"Forgive me," said Louis, "if I interrupt your conversation; but I claim your attention wherever I may require your services." "I am always at the king's service," replied Fouquet.
"And your cash-box, too," said the king, laughing with a false smile.
"My cash-box more than anything else," said Fouquet, coldly.
"The fact is, I wish to give a _fete_ at Fontainebleau--to keep open house for fifteen days, and I shall require--" and he stopped, glancing at Colbert.

Fouquet waited without showing discomposure; and the king resumed, answering Colbert's icy smile, "four million francs." "Four million," repeated Fouquet, bowing profoundly.

And his nails, buried in his bosom, were thrust into his flesh, but the tranquil expression of his face remained unaltered.

"When will they be required, sire ?" "Take your time,--I mean--no, no; as soon as possible." "A certain time will be necessary, sire." "Time!" exclaimed Colbert, triumphantly.
"The time, monsieur," said the superintendent, with the haughtiest disdain, "simply to _count the money_; a million can only be drawn and weighed in a day." "Four days, then," said Colbert.
"My clerks," replied Fouquet, addressing himself to the king, "will perform wonders on his majesty's service, and the sum shall be ready in three days." It was for Colbert now to turn pale.

Louis looked at him astonished.
Fouquet withdrew without any parade or weakness, smiling at his numerous friends, in whose countenances alone he read the sincerity of their friendship--an interest partaking of compassion.