watch, for it was they who stopped the way, had passed with the heavy carriage they were escorting, and which ascended rapidly towards the Place Baudoyer. Fouquet and Pelisson took no further account of this circumstance beyond deploring the minute’s delay they had thus to submit to. They entered the habitation of the concierge du Palais five minutes after. That officer was still walking about in the front court. At the name of Fouquet, whispered in his ear by Pelisson, the governor eagerly approached the carriage, and, hat in hand, was profuse in his attentions. “What an honor for me, monseigneur,” said he.

“One word, monsieur le governeur, will you take the trouble to get into my carriage?” The officer placed himself opposite Fouquet in the coach.

“Monsieur,”