Joyous friends, for the most part faithful, they had not fled their protector at the approach of the storm, and, in spite of the threatening heavens, in spite of the trembling earth, they remained there, smiling, cheerful, as devoted in misfortune as they had been in prosperity.

On the left of the surintendant sat Madame de Belliere; on his right was Madame Fouquet; as if braving the laws of the world, and putting all vulgar reasons of propriety to silence, the two protecting angels of this man united to offer, at the moment of the crisis, the support of their twined arms.

Madame de Belliere was pale, trembling, and full of respectful attentions for madame la surintendante, who, with one hand on her husband's, was looking anxiously towards the door by which Pelisson had gone out to bring D'Artagnan.

The captain entered at first full of courtesy, and afterwards of admiration, when, with his infallible glance, he had divined as well as taken in the expression of every face.
Fouquet raised himself up in his chair.
"Pardon me, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said he, "if I did not myself receive you when coming in the king's name." And he pronounced the last words with a sort of melancholy firmness, which filled the hearts of all his friends with terror.
"Monseigneur," replied D'Artagnan, "I only come to you in the king's name to demand payment of an order for two hundred pistoles." The clouds passed from every brow but that of Fouquet, which still remained overcast.
"Ah! then," said he, "perhaps you also are setting out for Nantes ?" "I do not know whither I am setting out, monseigneur." "But," said Madame Fouquet, recovered from her fright, "you are not going so soon, monsieur le capitaine, as not to do us the honor to take a seat with us ?" "Madame, I should esteem that a great honor done me, but I am so pressed for time, that, you see, I have been obliged to permit myself to interrupt your repast to procure payment of my note." "The reply to which shall be gold," said Fouquet, making a sign to his intendant, who went out with the order D'Artagnan handed him.
"Oh!" said the latter, "I was not uneasy about the payment; the house is good." A painful smile passed over the pale features of Fouquet.
"Are you in pain ?" asked Madame de Belliere.
"Do you feel your attack coming on ?" asked Madame Fouquet.
"Neither, thank you both," said Fouquet.
"Your attack ?" said D'Artagnan, in his turn; "are you unwell, monseigneur ?" "I have a tertian fever, which seized me after the _fete_ at Vaux." "Caught cold in the grottos, at night, perhaps ?" "No, no; nothing but agitation, that was all." "The too much heart you displayed in your reception of the king," said La Fontaine, quietly, without suspicion that he was uttering a sacrilege.
"We cannot devote too much heart to the reception of our king," said Fouquet, mildly, to his poet.
"Monsieur meant to say the too great ardor," interrupted D'Artagnan, with perfect frankness and much amenity.

"The fact is, monseigneur, that hospitality was never practiced as at Vaux." Madame Fouquet permitted her countenance to show clearly that if Fouquet had conducted himself well towards the king, the king had hardly done the like to the minister.