Louise de la Valliere by Alexandre Dumas (dark books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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Vanel looked at the bishop with astonishment; he had hardly expected to find an auxiliary in him. Fouquet also paused to listen to the bishop.
âDo you not see,â continued Aramis, âthat M. Vanel, in order to purchase your appointment, has been obliged to sell a property belonging to his wife; well, that is no slight matter; for one cannot displace, as he has done, fourteen or fifteen hundred thousand francs without some considerable loss, and very serious inconvenience.â
âPerfectly true,â said Vanel, whose secret Aramis had, with keen-sighted gaze, wrung from the bottom of his heart.
âInconveniences such as these are matters of great expense and calculation, and whenever a man has money matters to deal with, the expenses are generally the very first thing thought of.â
âYes, yes,â said Fouquet, who began to understand Aramisâs meaning.
Vanel remained perfectly silent; he, too, had understood him. Aramis observed his coldness of manner and his silence. âVery good,â he said to himself, âyou are waiting, I see, until you know the amount; but do not fear, I shall send you such a flight of crowns that you cannot but capitulate on the spot.â
âWe must offer M. Vanel a hundred thousand crowns at once,â said Fouquet, carried away by his generous feelings.
The sum was a good one. A prince, even, would have been satisfied with such a bonus. A hundred thousand crowns at that period was the dowry of a kingâs daughter. Vanel, however, did not move.
âHe is a perfect rascal!â thought the bishop, âwell, we must offer the five hundred thousand francs at once,â and he made a sign to Fouquet accordingly.
âYou seem to have spent more than that, dear Monsieur Vanel,â said the superintendent. âThe price of ready money is enormous. You must have made a great sacrifice in selling your wifeâs property. Well, what can I have been thinking of? I ought to have offered to sign you an order for five hundred thousand francs; and even in that case I shall feel that I am greatly indebted to you.â
There was not a gleam of delight or desire on Vanelâs face, which remained perfectly impassible; not a muscle of it changed in the slightest degree. Aramis cast a look almost of despair at Fouquet, and then, going straight up to Vanel and taking hold of him by the coat, in a familiar manner, he said, âMonsieur Vanel, it is neither the inconvenience, nor the displacement of your money, nor the sale of your wifeâs property even, that you are thinking of at this moment; it is something more important still. I can well understand it; so pay particular attention to what I am going to say.â
âYes, monseigneur,â Vanel replied, beginning to tremble in every limb, as the prelateâs eyes seemed almost ready to devour him.
âI offer you, therefore, in the superintendentâs name, not three hundred thousand livres, nor five hundred thousand, but a million. A millionâdo you understand me?â he added, as he shook him nervously.
âA million!â repeated Vanel, as pale as death.
âA million; in other words, at the present rate of interest, an income of seventy thousand francs.â
âCome, monsieur,â said Fouquet, âyou can hardly refuse that. Answerâdo you accept?â
âImpossible,â murmured Vanel.
Aramis bit his lips, and something like a cloud seemed to pass over his face. The thunder behind this cloud could easily be imagined. He still kept his hold on Vanel. âYou have purchased the appointment for fifteen hundred thousand francs, I think. Well, you will receive these fifteen hundred thousand francs back again; by paying M. Fouquet a visit, and shaking hands with him on the bargain, you will have become a gainer of a million and a half. You get honor and profit at the same time, Monsieur Vanel.â
âI cannot do it,â said Vanel, hoarsely.
âVery well,â replied Aramis, who had grasped Vanel so tightly by the coat that, when he let go his hold, Vanel staggered back a few paces, âvery well; one can now see clearly enough your object in coming here.â
âYes,â said Fouquet, âone can easily see that.â
âButââ said Vanel, attempting to stand erect before the weakness of these two men of honor.
âDoes the fellow presume to speak?â said Aramis, with the tone of an emperor.
âFellow!â repeated Vanel.
âThe scoundrel, I meant to say,â added Aramis, who had now resumed his usual self-possession. âCome, monsieur, produce your deed of sale,âyou have it about you, I suppose, in one of your pockets, already prepared, as an assassin holds his pistol or his dagger concealed under his cloak.â
Vanel began to mutter something.
âEnough!â cried Fouquet. âWhere is this deed?â
Vanel tremblingly searched in his pockets, and as he drew out his pocket-book, a paper fell out of it, while Vanel offered the other to Fouquet. Aramis pounced upon the paper which had fallen out, as soon as he recognized the handwriting. âI beg your pardon,â said Vanel, âthat is a rough draft of the deed.â
âI see that very clearly,â retorted Aramis, with a smile more cutting than a lash of a whip; âand what I admire most is, that this draft is in M. Colbertâs handwriting. Look, monseigneur, look.â
And he handed the draft to Fouquet, who recognized the truth of the fact; for, covered with erasures, with inserted words, the margins filled with additions, this deedâa living proof of Colbertâs plotâhad just revealed everything to its unhappy victim. âWell!â murmured Fouquet.
Vanel, completely humiliated, seemed as if he were looking for some hole wherein to hide himself.
âWell!â said Aramis, âif your name were not Fouquet, and if your enemyâs name were not Colbertâif you had not this mean thief before you, I should say to you, âRepudiate it;â such a proof as this absolves you from your word; but these fellows would think you were afraid; they would fear you less than they do; therefore sign the deed at once.â And he held out a pen towards him.
Fouquet pressed Aramisâs hand; but, instead of the deed which Vanel handed to him, he took the rough draft of it.
âNo, not that paper,â said Aramis, hastily; âthis is the one. The other is too precious a document for you to part with.â
âNo, no!â replied Fouquet; âI will sign under M. Colbertâs own handwriting even; and I write, âThe handwriting is approved of.ââ He then signed, and said, âHere it is, Monsieur Vanel.â And the latter seized the paper, dashed down the money, and was about to make his escape.
âOne moment,â said Aramis. âAre you quite sure the exact amount is there?
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