“Monseigneur!” began Baisemeaux.
“Ah, well, you begin to understand, I think.”
“Monseigneur,” cried Baisemeaux, “do not trifle so with my unhappy mind! I find myself nothing in your hands, if you have the malignant desire to draw from me the little secrets of my administration.”
“Oh, by no means! Pray undeceive yourself, dear M. Baisemeaux; it is not the little secrets of your administration that I aim at, but those of your conscience.”
“Well, then, my conscience be it, my dear M. d’Herblay! But have some consideration for the situation I am in, which is no ordinary one.”
“It is no ordinary one, my dear Monsieur,” continued the inflexible Aramis, “if you are a member of this society; but it is quite a natural one if, free from all engagements, you are answerable only to the King.”
“Well, Monsieur, well! I obey only the King. Good God! whom else would you have a French gentleman obey?”
Aramis did not yield an inch; but with that silvery voice of his continued: “It is very pleasant for a French gentleman, for a prelate of France, to hear a man of your mark express himself so loyally, dear De Baisemeaux, and having heard you, to believe no more than you do.”
“Have you doubted, Monsieur?”
“I? Oh, no!”
“And so you doubt no longer?”
“I have no longer any doubt that such a man as you, Monsieur,” said Aramis, gravely, “does not faithfully serve the masters whom he voluntarily chose for himself.”
“Masters!” cried Baisemeaux.
“Yes, masters, I said.”
“M. d’Herblay, you are still jesting, are you not?”
“Oh, yes! I understand that it is a more difficult position to have several masters than one; but the embarrassment is owing to you, my dear Baisemeaux, and I am not the cause of it.”
“Certainly not,” returned the unfortunate governor, more embarrassed than ever; “but what are you doing? You are leaving the table?”
“Assuredly.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes, I am going.”
“But you are behaving very strangely towards me, Monseigneur.”
“I am behaving strangely,- in what respect?”
“Have you sworn, then, to put me to the torture?”
“No, I should be sorry to do so.”
“Remain, then.”
“I cannot.”
“And why?”
“Because I have no longer anything to do here; and, indeed, I have duties to fulfil elsewhere.”
“Duties so late as this?”
“Yes; understand me now, my dear M. de Baisemeaux. They told me at the place whence I came, ‘The aforesaid governor or captain will allow to enter, as need shall arise, on the prisoner’s demand, a confessor affiliated with the order.’ I came; you do not know what I mean, and so I shall return to tell them that they are mistaken, and that they must send me elsewhere.”
“What! you are-” cried Baisemeaux, looking at Aramis almost in terror.
“The confessor affiliated to the order,” said Aramis, without changing his voice.
But, gentle as the words were, they had the same effect on the unhappy governor as a clap of thunder. Baisemeaux became livid, and it seemed to him as if Aramis’s beaming eyes were two forks of flame, piercing to the very bottom of his soul. “The confessor!” murmured he; “you, Monseigneur, the confessor of the order!”
“Yes, I; but we have nothing to unravel together, seeing that you are not one of the affiliated.”
“Monseigneur!”
“And I understand that, not being so, you refuse to comply with its commands.”
“Monseigneur, I beseech you, condescend to hear me.”
“And wherefore?”
“Monseigneur, I do not say that I have nothing to do with the society.”
“Ah! ah!”
“I say not that I refuse to obey.”
“Nevertheless, M. de Baisemeaux, what has passed wears very much the air of resistance.”
“Oh, no, Monseigneur, no! I only wished to be certain.”
“To be certain of what?” said Aramis, in a tone of supreme contempt.
“Of nothing at all, Monseigneur.” Baisemeaux lowered his voice, and bending before the prelate said, “I am at all times and in all places at the disposal of my masters, but-”
“Very good. I like you better thus, Monsieur,” said Aramis, as he resumed his seat, and put out his glass to Baisemeaux, whose hand trembled so that he could not fill it. “You were saying ‘but’-” continued Aramis.