hat the friends of Fouquet could hope for. M. de Sainte-Helene
summed up for beheadal. "The only proper punishment for him would be
rope and gallows," exclaimed M. Pussort, the most violent of the whole
court against the accused; "but, in consideration of the offices he has
held, and the distinguished relatives he has, I relent so far as to
accept the opinion of M. de Sainte-Helene." "What say you to this
moderation?" writes Madame de Sevigne to M. de Pomponne, like herself a
faithful friend of Fouquet's: "it is because he is Colbert's uncle, and
was objected to, that he was inclined for such handsome treatment. As
for me, I am beside myself when I think of such infamy. . . . You
must know that M. Colbert is in such a rage that there is apprehension
of some atrocity and injustice which will drive us all to despair. If it
were not for that, my poor dear sir, in the position in which we now are,
we might hope to see our friend, although very unfortunate, at any rate
with his life safe, which is a great matter."

"Pray much to your God and entreat your judges," was the message sent to
Mesdames Fouquet by the queen-Snother, "for, so far as the king is
concerned, there is nothing to be expected." "If he is sentenced,
I shall leave him to die," proclaimed Louis XIV. Fouquet was not
sentenced; the court declared for the view of Oliver d'Ormesson. "Praise
God, sir, and thank Him," wrote Madame de Sevigne, on the 20th of
December, 1664, "our poor friend is saved; it was thirteen for M.
d'Ormesson's summing-up, and nine for Sainte-He1ene's. It will be a long
while before I recover from my joy; it is really too overwhelming; I can
hardly restrain it. The king changes exile into imprisonment, and
refuses him permission to see his wife, which is against all usage; but
take care not to abate one jot of your joy; mine is increased thereby,
and makes me see more clearly the greatness of our victory." Fouquet was
taken to Pignerol, and all his family were removed from Paris. He died
piously in his prison, in 1680, a year before his venerable mother, Marie
Maupeou, who was so deeply concerned about her son's soul at the very
pinnacle of greatness, that she threw herself upon her knees on hearing
of his arrest, and exclaimed, I thank thee, O God; I have always prayed
for his salvation, and here is the way to it!" Fouquet was guilty; the
bitterness of his enemies and the severities of the king have failed to
procure his acq