He was weary, he had supped well, and wished, for once in his life, thoroughly to enjoy a _fete_ given by a man who was in every sense of the word a king.

"M.

Fouquet," he said, "is the man for me." The king was conducted with the greatest ceremony to the chamber of Morpheus, of which we owe some cursory description to our readers.

It was the handsomest and largest in the palace.

Lebrun had painted on the vaulted ceiling the happy as well as the unhappy dreams which Morpheus inflicts on kings as well as on other men.