“Great God! And who took him there?”
“I.”
“You?”
“Yes, and in the simplest way. I carried him away last night. While he was descending into midnight, the other was ascending into day. I do not think there has been any disturbance whatever. A flash of lightning without thunder awakens nobody.”
Fouquet uttered a thick, smothered cry, as if he had been struck by some invisible blow, and clasping his head between his clenched hands, he murmured: “You did that?”
“Cleverly enough, too; what do you think of it?”
“You dethroned the king?
imprisoned him, too?”