CHAPTER 56
M. de la Fontaine's Wine
Carriages were already bringing the guests of Fouquet to
Saint-Mande; already the whole house was getting warm with
the preparations for supper, when the superintendent
launched his fleet horses upon the road to Paris, and going
by the quays, in order to meet fewer people on the way, soon
reached the Hotel de Ville. It wanted a quarter to eight.
Fouquet alighted at the corner of the Rue de Long-pont, and,
on foot, directed his course towards the Place de Greve,
accompanied by Gourville. At the turning of the Place they
saw a man dressed in black and violet, of dignified mien,
who was preparing to get into a hired carriage, and told the
coachman to stop at Vincennes. He had before him a large
hamper filled with bottles, which he had just purchased at
the cabaret with the sign of "L'Image-de-Notre-Dame."
"Eh, but! that is Vatel! my maitre d'hotel!" said Fouquet to
Gourville.
"Yes, monseigneur," replied the latter.
"What can he have been doing at the sign of
L'Image-de-Notre-Dame?"
"Buying wine, no doubt."
"What! buy wine for me, at a cabaret?" said Fouquet. "My
cellar, then, must be in a miserable condition!" and he
advanced towards the maitre d'hotel who was arranging his
bottles in the carriage with the most minute care.
"Hola! Vatel," said he, in the voice of a master.
"Take care, monseigneur!" said Gourville, "you will be
recognized."
"Very well! Of what consequence? -- Vatel!
The man dressed in black and violet turned round. He had a
good and mild countenance, without expression -- a
mathematician minus the pride. A certain fire sparkled in
the eyes of this personage, a rather sly smile played round
his lips; but the observer might soon have remarked that
this fire and this smile applied to nothing, enlightened
nothing. Vatel laughed like an absent man, and amused
himself like a child. At the sound of his master's voice he
turned round, exclaiming: "Oh! monseigneur!"
"Yes, it is I. What the devil are you doing here, Vatel?
Wine! You are buying wine at a cabaret in the Place de
Greve!"
"But, monseigneur," said Vatel, quietly, after having darted
a hostile glance at Gourville, "why am I interfered with
here? Is my cellar kept in bad order?"
"No, certes, Vatel, no, but ---- "
"But what?" replied Vatel. Gourville touched Fouquet's
elbow.
"Don't be angry, Vatel, I thought my cellar -- your cellar
-- sufficiently well stocked for us to be able to dispense
with recourse to the cellar of L'Image de-Notre-Dame."
"Eh, monsieur," said Vatel, shrinking from monseigneur to
monsieur with a degree of disdain: "your cellar is so well
stocked that when certain of your guests dine with you they
have nothing to drink."
Fouquet, in great surprise, looked at Gourville. "What do
you mean by that?"
"I mean that your butler had not wine for all tastes,
monsieur; and that M. de la Fontaine, M. Pellisson, and M.
Conrart, do not drink when they come to the house -- these
gentlemen do not like strong wine. What is to be done,
then?"
"Well, and therefore?"
"Well, then, I have found here a vin de Joigny, which they
like. I know they come once a week to drink at the
Image-de-Notre-Dame. That is the reason I am making this
provision."
Fouquet had no more to say; he was convinced. Vatel, on his
part, had much more to say, without doubt, and it was plain
he was getting warm. "It is just as if you would reproach
me, monseigneur, for going to the Rue Planche Milbray, to
fetch, myself, the cider M. Loret drinks when he comes to
dine at your house."
"Loret drinks cider at my house!" cried Fouquet, laughing.
"Certainly he does, monsieur, and that is the reason why he
dines there with pleasure."
"Vatel," cried Fouquet, pressing the hand of his maitre
d'hotel, "you are a man! I thank you, Vatel, for having
understood that at my house M. de la Fontaine, M. Conrart,
and M. Loret, are as great as dukes and peers, as great as
princes, greater than myself. Vatel, you are a good servant,
and I double your salary."
Vatel did not even thank his master, he merely shrugged his
shoulders a little, murmuring this superb sentiment: "To be
thanked for having done one's duty is humiliating."
"He is right," said Gourville, as he drew Fouquet's
attention, by a gesture, to another point. He showed him a
low-built tumbrel, drawn by two horses, upon which rocked
two strong gibbets, bound together, back to back, by chains,
whilst an archer, seated upon the cross-beam, suffered, as
well as he could, with his head cast down, the comments of a
hundred vagabonds, who guessed the destination of the
gibbets, and were escorting them to the Hotel de Ville.
Fouquet started. "It is decided, you see," said Gourville.
"But it is not done," replied Fouquet.
"Oh, do not flatter yourself, monseigneur; if they have thus
lulled your friendship and suspicions -- if things have gone
so far, you will be able to undo nothing."
"But I have not given my sanction."
"M. de Lyonne has ratified for you."
"I will go to the Louvre."
"Oh, no, you will not."
"Would you advise such baseness?" cried Fouquet, "would you
advise me to abandon my friends? would you advise me, whilst
able to fight, to throw the arms I hold in my hand to the
ground?"
"I do not advise you to do anything of the kind,
monseigneur. Are you in a position to quit the post of
superintendent at this moment?"
"No."
"Well, if the king wishes to displace you ---- "
"He will displace me absent as well as present."
"Yes, but you will not have insulted him."
"Yes, but I shall have been base; now I am not willing that
my friends should die; and they shall not die!"
"For that it is necessary you should go to the Louvre, is it
not?"
"Gourville!"
"Beware! once at the Louvre, you will be forced to defend
your friends openly, that is to say, to make a profession of
faith; or you will be forced to abandon them irrevocably."
"Never!"
"Pardon me, -- the king will propose the alternative to you,
rigorously, or else you will propose it to him yourself."
"That is true."
"That is the reason why conflict must be avoided. Let us
return to Saint-Mande, monseigneur."
"Gourville, I will not stir from this place, where the crime
is to be carried out, where my disgrace is to be
accomplished; I will not stir, I say, till I have found some
means of combating my enemies."
"Monseigneur," replied Gourville, "you would excite my pity,
if I did not know you for one of the great spirits of this
world. You possess a hundred and fifty millions, you are
equal to the king in position, and a hundred and fifty
millions his superior in money. M. Colbert has not even had
the wit to have the will of Mazarin accepted. Now, when a
man is the richest person in a kingdom, and will take the
trouble to spend the money, if things are done he does not
like it is because he is a poor man. Let us return to
Saint-Mande, I say."
"To consult with Pellisson? -- we will."
"So be it," said Fouquet, with angry eyes; -- "yes, to
Saint-Mande!" He got into his carriage again and Gourville
with him. Upon their road, at the end of the Faubourg
Saint-Antoine, they overtook the humble equipage of Vatel,
who was quietly conveying home his vin de Joigny. The black
horses, going at a swift pace, alarmed as they passed, the
timid hack of the maitre d'hotel, who, putting his head out
at the window, cried, in a fright, "Take care of my
bottles!"
