The Abbe Dubois still maintained his pernicious influence over the Regent, and still looked forward to a cardinalship as the reward of his scheming, his baseness, and his perfidy.  In the meantime, the Archbishopric of Cambrai became vacant (by the death, at Rome, of the Cardinal Tremoille).  That is to say, the richest archbishopric, and one of the best posts in the Church.  The Abbe Dubois was only tonsured; 150,000 livres, a year tempted him, and perhaps this position, from which he could more easily elevate himself to the cardinalship.  Impudent as he might be, powerful as might be the empire he had acquired over his master, he was much embarrassed, and masked his effrontery under a trick.  He said to M. le Duc d’Orleans, he had a pleasant dream; and related to him that he had dreamt he was Archbishop of Cambrai!  The Regent, who smelt the rat, turned on his heel, and said nothing.  Dubois, more and more embarrassed, stammered, and paraphrased his dream; then, re-assuring himself by an effort, asked, in an offhand manner, why he should not obtain it, His Royal Highness, by his will alone, being able thus to make his fortune.

M. le Duc d’Orleans was indignant, even terrified, little scrupulous as he might be as to the choice of bishops, and in a tone of contempt replied to Dubois, “What, you Archbishop of Cambrai!” making him thus feel his low origin, and still more the debauchery and scandal of his life.  Dubois was, however, too far advanced to stop on the road, and cited examples; unfortunately these were only too many.

M. le Duc d’Orleans, less touched by such bad reasoning than embarrassed how to resist the ardor of a man whom for a long time he had not dated to contradict, tried to get out of the difficulty, by saying, “But you being such a scoundrel, where will you find another to consecrate you?”

“Oh, if it’s only that!” exclaimed Dubois, “the thing is done.  I know very well who will consecrate me; he is not far from here.”

“And who the devil is he who will dare to do so?” asked the Regent.

“Would you like to know?” replied the Abbe, “and does the matter rest only upon that?”

“Well, who?” said the Regent.

“Your chief chaplain,” replied Dubois, “who is close at hand.  Nothing will please him better; I will run and speak to him.”

And thereupon he embraces the knees of M. le Duc d’Orleans (who, caught thus in his own trap, had not the strength to refuse), runs to the Bishop of Nantes, says that he is to have Cambrai, begs the Bishop to consecrate him, and receives his promise to do so, returns, wheels round, tells M. le Duc d’Orleans that his chief chaplain has agreed to the consecration; thanks, praises, admires the Regent, fixes more and more firmly the office by regarding it as settled, and by persuading M. le Duc d’Orleans, who dares not say no; and in this manner was Dubois made Archbishop of Cambrai!