"How!" exclaimed Louis XIV., "was it you who drew up the deed of donation?"
"Yes, sire."
"And yet the cardinal was attached to you?" added the king, ingenuously.
"I had assured his eminence you would by no means accept the gift," said Colbert, in that same quiet manner we have described, and which, even in the common habits of life, had something solemn in it.
Louis passed his hand over his brow: "Oh! how young I am," murmured he, "to have command of men."
Colbert waited the end of this monologue. He saw Louis raise his head. "At what hour shall I send the money to your majesty?" asked he.
"To-night, at eleven o'clock; I desire that no one may know that I possess this money."
Colbert made no more reply than if the thing had not been said to him.
"Is the amount in ingots, or coined gold?"
"In coined gold, sire."
"That is well."
"Where shall I send it?"
"To the Louvre. Thank you, M. Colbert."
Colbert bowed and retired. "Thirteen millions!" exclaimed Louis, as soon as he was alone. "This must be a dream!" Then he allowed his head to sink between his hands, as if he were really asleep. But, at the end of a moment, he arose, and opening the window violently, he bathed his burning brow in the keen morning air, which brought to his senses the scent of the trees, and the perfume of the flowers. A splendid dawn was gilding the horizon, and the first rays of the sun bathed in flame the young king's brow. "This is the dawn of my reign," murmured Louis XIV. "It's a presage sent by the Almighty."