“Do not forget, Baisemeaux, that I have worn the uniform, and am accustomed to see everywhere obedience.”
“You wish, then-”
“I wish that you should do your duty, my friend; yes, at least before this soldier.”
“‘Tis mathematically true,” exclaimed Baisemeaux. Francois still waited. “Let them send this order of the King up to me,” he said, recovering himself. And he added in a low tone: “Do you know what it is? I will tell you; it is something about as interesting as this: ‘Beware of fire near the powder-magazine,’ or ‘Look close after such a one, who is clever at escaping.’ Ah! if you only knew, Monseigneur, how many times I have been suddenly awakened from the very sweetest and deepest slumber by messengers arriving at full gallop to tell me, or rather bring me a slip of paper containing these words: ‘M. de Baisemeaux, what news?’ ‘Tis clear enough that those who waste their time writing such orders have never slept in the Bastille. They would know better the thickness of my walls, the vigilance of my officers, the number of my rounds. But, indeed, what can you expect, Monseigneur? It is their business to write and torment me when I am at rest, and to trouble me when I am happy,” added Baisemeaux, bowing to Aramis. “Then let us leave them to their business.”
“And do you do yours,” added the bishop, smiling, but with command in his expression notwithstanding.
Francois re-entered. Baisemeaux took from his hands the minister’s order. He slowly undid it, and as slowly read it. Aramis pretended to be drinking, so as to be able to watch his host through the glass. Then, having read it, “What was I just saying?” Baisemeaux exclaimed.
“What is it?” asked the bishop.
“An order of release! There, now; excellent news, indeed, to disturb us!”
“Excellent news for him whom it concerns, you will at least agree, my dear governor!”
“And at eight o’clock in the evening!”
“It is charitable!”
“Oh! charity is all very well; but it is for that fellow who is low-spirited, and not for me who am amusing myself,” said Baisemeaux, exasperated.
“Will you lose by him, then? And is the prisoner who is to be set at liberty a high payer?”
“Oh yes, indeed! a miserable, five-livre rat!”
“Let me see it,” asked M. d’Herblay. “It is no indiscretion?”
“By no means; read it.”
“There is ‘Urgent’ on the paper; you noticed that, I suppose?”
“Oh, admirable! ‘Urgent!’- a man who has been there ten years! It is urgent to set him free to-day, this very evening, at eight o’clock!- urgent!” and Baisemeaux, shrugging his shoulders with an air of supreme disdain, flung the order on the table and began eating again. “They are fond of these dodges,” he said, with his mouth full; “they seize a man, some fine day, maintain him for ten years, and write to you, ‘Watch this fellow well,’ or ‘Keep him very strictly.’ And then, as soon as you are accustomed to look upon the prisoner as a dangerous man, all of a sudden, without cause or precedent, they write, ‘Set him at liberty’; and add to their missive, ‘Urgent.’ You will own, my Lord, ’tis enough to make one shrug his shoulders!”
“What do you expect? It is they who write,” said Aramis, “and it is for you to execute the order.”
“Good! good! execute it! Oh, patience! You must not imagine that I am a slave.”
“Gracious Heaven! my very good M. Baisemeaux, who ever said so? Your independence is known.”
“Thank Heaven!”
“But your good heart also is known.”
“Ah, don’t speak of it!”
“And your obedience to your superiors. Once a soldier, you see, Baisemeaux, always a soldier.”
“And so I shall strictly obey; and to-morrow morning, at daybreak, the prisoner referred to shall be set free.”
“To-morrow?”
“At dawn.”
“Why not this evening, seeing that the lettre de cachet bears, both on the direction and inside, ‘Urgent’?”
“Because this evening we are at supper, and our affairs are urgent too!”
“Dear Baisemeaux, booted though I be, I feel myself a priest; and charity has higher claims upon me than hunger and thirst. This unfortunate man has suffered long enough, since you have just told me that lie has been your prisoner these ten years. Abridge his suffering. His good time has come; give him the benefit quickly. God will repay you in Paradise with years of felicity.”