“I was working, sire,” replied the superintendent, who did not even seem to take the trouble to turn aside his head in merest respect of Colbert’s presence.

“Ah! M. Fouquet,” cried the king, “there is nothing like the country. I should be delighted to live in the country always, in the open air and under the trees.”

“I should hope that your majesty is not yet weary of the throne,” said Fouquet.

“No; but thrones of soft turf are very pleasant.”

“Your majesty gratifies my utmost wishes in speaking in that manner, for I have a request to submit to you.”

“On whose behalf, monsieur?”