“That is well.”

“Monseigneur,” objected Gourville, “if this should be known, we should lose our heads.”

“Eh! Gourville,” replied Fouquet, purple with anger, “you excite my pity. Speak for yourself, if you please. My head does not shake in that manner upon my shoulders. Now, abbe, is everything arranged?”

“Everything.”

“At two o’clock to-morrow.”

“At twelve, because it will be necessary to prepare our auxiliaries in a secret manner.”

“That is true; do not spare the wine of the cabaretier.”

“I will spare neither his wine nor his house,”