rse of the two vessels was resumed with fresh perseverance. Upon
seeing this, Fouquet felt himself threatened closely, and in a prophetic
voice--"Well, Gourville," said he, whisperingly, "what did I say at our
last repast, at my house? Am I going, or not, to my ruin?"

"Oh! monseigneur!"

"These two boats, which follow each other with so much emulation, as if
we were disputing, M. Colbert and I, a prize for swiftness on the
Loire, do they not aptly represent our fortunes; and do you not believe,
Gourville, that one of the two will be wrecked at Nantes?"

"At least," objected Gourville, "there is still uncertainty; you are
about to appear at the States; you are about to show what sort of man
you are; your eloquence and genius for business are the buckler and
sword that will serve to defend you, if not to conquer with. The Bretons
do not know you; and when they become acquainted with you your cause
is won! Oh! let M. Colbert look to it well, for his lighter is as much
exposed as yours to being upset. Both go quickly, his faster than yours,
it is true; we shall see which will be wrecked first."

Fouquet, taking Gourville's hand--"My friend," said he, "everything
considered, remember the proverb, 'First come, first served!' Well! M.
Colbert takes care not to pass me. He is a prudent man is M. Colbert."

He was right; the two lighters held their course as far as Nantes,
watching each other. When the surintendant landed, Gourville hoped he
should be able to seek refuge at once, and have the relays prepared.
But, at the landing, the second lighter joined the first, and Colbert,
approaching Fouquet, saluted him on the quay with marks of the
profoundest respect--marks so significant, so public, that their result
was the bringing of the whole population upon La Fosse. Fouquet was
completely self-possessed; he felt that in his last moments of greatness
he had obligations towards himself. He wished to fall from such a height
that his fall should crush some of his enemies. Colbert was there--so
much the worse for Colbert. The surintendant, therefore, coming up to
him, replied, with that arrogant semi-closure of the eyes peculiar to
him--"What! is that you, M. Colbert?"

"To offer you my respects, monseigneur," said the latter.

"Were you in that lighter?"--pointing to the one with twelve rowers.

"Yes, monseigneur."

"Of twelve rowers?" said Fouquet; "what luxury, M. Colbert. For a moment
I thought it was the queen-mother."