A Procureur-General could be tried only by the Parliament to which he belonged.  To make Fouquet’s destruction more certain, Colbert had induced him, by various misrepresentations, to sell out.  He received fourteen hundred thousand livres for the place, and presented the enormous sum to the Treasury.  This act of munificence, or of restitution, did not save him.  If he had been backed by fifty thousand men, the King could hardly have taken greater precautions.  His Majesty’s manner was more gracious than ever.  To prevent a rising in the West, Louis journeyed to Nantes, which is near Belleile.  Fouquet accompanied the progress with almost equal state.  He had his court, his guards, his own barge upon the Loire,—­and travelled brilliantly onward to ruin.  The palace in Nantes was the scene of the arrest.  Fouquet, suspecting nothing, waited upon the King.  Louis kept him engaged in conversation, until he saw D’Artagnau, a name famous in storybooks, and the mousquetaires in the courtyard.  Then he gave the signal.  The Surintendant was seized and taken to Angers, thence to Amboise, Vincennes, and finally to the Bastille.  He was confined in a room lighted only from above, and allowed no communication with family or friends.  The mask was now thrown off, and the blow followed up with a malignant energy which showed the determination to destroy.  The King was very violent, and said openly that he had matter in his possession which would hang the Surintendant.  His secretaries and agents were arrested.  His friends, not knowing how much they might be implicated, either fled the kingdom, or kept out of the way in the provinces.  Pellisson and Dr. Pecquet were sent to the Bastille; Guenegaud lost half his fortune; the Bishop of Avranches had to pay twelve thousand francs; Gourville fled to England; Pomponne was ordered to reside at Verdun.  Fouquet’s papers were examined in the presence of the King.  Letters were there from persons in every class of life,—­a very large number from women, for the prisoner had charms which the fair sex have always found it difficult to resist.  Madame Scarron had written to thank him for his bounty to the poor cripple whose name and roof protected her.  The King had probably never before heard of this lady, who was to be the wife and ruler of his old age.  The portfolio contained specimens of the gayest and brightest of letter-writers.  In the course of his career, the gallant Surintendant had attempted to add the charming widow Sevigne to his conquests.  She refused the temptation, but always remained grateful for the compliment.  Le Tellier told her cousin, Bussy-Rabutin, that the King liked her letters,—­“very different,” he said, “from the douceurs fades”—­the insipid sweet things—­“of the other feminine scribes.”  Nevertheless, she thought it prudent to reside for a time upon her estate in Brittany.  A copy of a letter by St. Evremond was found, written three years before from the Spanish frontier.  It was a sarcastic pleasantry at the