“Oh, to be sure! And these diversions-”
“Are of every kind.”
“Visits, no doubt?”
“No, not visits. Visits are not frequent at the Bastille.”
“What! are visits rare, then?”
“Very rare.”
“Even on the part of your society?”
“What do you mean by my ‘society,’- the prisoners?”
“Oh, no! Your prisoners, indeed! I know well it is you who visit them, and not they you. By your society I mean, my dear M. Baisemeaux, the society of which you are a member.”
Baisemeaux looked fixedly at Aramis, and then, as if the idea which had flashed across his mind were impossible, “Oh!” he said, “I have very little society at present. If I must own it to you, my dear M. d’Herblay, the fact is, to stay at the Bastille appears for the most part distressing and distasteful to persons of the gay world. As for the ladies, it is never without a dread, which costs me infinite trouble to allay, that they come to my quarters. And, indeed, how should they avoid trembling a little, poor things, when they see those gloomy dungeons, and reflect that they are inhabited by prisoners who-” In proportion as the eyes of Baisemeaux concentrated their gaze on the face of Aramis, the worthy governor’s tongue faltered more and more, until finally it stopped altogether.
“No, you don’t understand me, my dear M. Baisemeaux,- you don’t understand me. I do not at all mean to speak of society in general, but of a particular society,- of the society, in a word, to which you are affiliated.”
Baisemeaux nearly dropped the glass of muscat which he was in the act of raising to his lips. “Affiliated?” cried he, “affiliated?”
“Yes, affiliated, undoubtedly,” repeated Aramis, with the greatest self-possession. “Are you not a member of a secret society, my dear M. Baisemeaux?”
“Secret?”
“Secret or mysterious.”
“Oh, M. d’Herblay!”
“See! you don’t deny it.”
“But, believe me-”
“I believe what I know.”
“I swear to you.”
“Listen to me, my dear M. Baisemeaux! I say ‘yes,’ you say ‘no.’ One of us two necessarily says what is true; and the other, it inevitably follows, what is false.”
“Well, and then?”
“Well, we shall come to an understanding presently.”
“Let us see,” said Baisemeaux; “let us see.”
“Now drink your glass of muscat, dear M. Baisemeaux,” said Aramis. “What the devil! you look quite scared.”
“No, no, not the least in the world; no.”
“Drink, then.”
Baisemeaux drank, but he swallowed the wrong way.
“Well,” resumed Aramis, “if, I say, you are not a member of a society, secret or mysterious, whichever you like to call it,- the epithet is of no consequence,- if, I say, you are not a member of a society similar to that I wish to designate, well, then, you will not understand a word of what I am going to say, that is all.”
“Oh! be sure beforehand that I shall not understand anything.”
“Well, well!”
“Try now; let us see.”
“That is what I am going to do. If, on the contrary, you are one of the members of this society, you will immediately answer me ‘yes’ or ‘no.'”
“Begin your questions, then,” continued Baisemeaux, trembling.
“You will agree, dear M. de Baisemeaux,” continued Aramis, with the same impassiveness, “that it is evident a man cannot be a member of a society, it is evident that he cannot enjoy the advantages it offers to the affiliated, without being himself bound to certain little services.”
“In short,” stammered Baisemeaux, “that would be intelligible if-”
“Well,” resumed Aramis, “there is in the society of which I speak, and of which, as it seems, you are not a member-”
“Allow me,” said Baisemeaux; “I should not like to say absolutely.”
“There is an engagement entered into by all the governors and captains of fortresses affiliated to the order.” Baisemeaux grew pale. “Now the engagement,” continued Aramis, firmly, “is of this nature.”
Baisemeaux rose, manifesting unspeakable emotion. “Go on, dear M. d’Herblay; go on!” said he.
Aramis then spoke, or rather recited, the following sentence, in the same tone as if he had been reading it from a book: “The aforesaid captain or governor of a fortress shall allow to enter, when need shall arise, and on demand of the prisoner, a confessor affiliated to the order.” He stopped. Baisemeaux was quite distressing to look at, being so wretchedly pale and trembling. “Is not that the text of the agreement?” quietly asked Aramis.