them come in," said the king, with a serious brow.

D'Artagnan turned rapidly on his heel, raised the tapestry which closed
the entrance to the royal chamber, and directing his voice to the
adjoining room, cried, "Enter."

The three men D'Artagnan had named immediately appeared at the door of
the cabinet in which were the king and his captain. A profound silence
prevailed in their passage. The courtiers, at the approach of the
friends of the unfortunate superintendent of finances, drew back, as
if fearful of being affected by contagion with disgrace and misfortune.
D'Artagnan, with a quick step, came forward to take by the hand the
unhappy men who stood trembling at the door of the cabinet; he led them
in front of the king's _fauteuil_, who, having placed himself in the
embrasure of a window, awaited the moment of presentation, and was
preparing himself to give the supplicants a rigorously diplomatic
reception.

The first of the friends of Fouquet's to advance was Pelisson. He did
not weep, but his tears were only restrained that the king might better
hear his voice and prayer. Gourville bit his lips to check his tears,
out of respect for the king. La Fontaine buried his face in his
handkerchief, and the only signs of life he gave were the convulsive
motions of his shoulders, raised by his sobs.

The king preserved his dignity. His countenance was impassible. He
even maintained the frown which appeared when D'Artagnan announced his
enemies. He made a gesture which signified, "Speak;" and he remained
standing, with his eyes fixed searchingly on these desponding men.
Pelisson bowed to the ground, and La Fontaine knelt as people do in
churches. This dismal silence, disturbed only by sighs and groans, began
to excite in the king, not compassion, but impatience.

"Monsieur Pelisson," said he, in a sharp, dry tone. "Monsieur Gourville,
and you, Monsieur--" and he did not name La Fontaine, "I cannot, without
sensible displeasure, see you come to plead for one of the greatest
criminals it is the duty of justice to punish. A king does not allow
himself to soften save at the tears of the innocent, the remorse of the
guilty. I have no faith either in the remorse of M. Fouquet or the tears
of his friends, because the one is tainted to the very heart, and the
others ought to dread offending me in my own palace. For these reasons,
I beg you, Monsieur Pelisson, Monsieur Gourville, and you, Monsieur--,
to say nothing that will no