“Advised,- yes, advised me to give him up to you; and that you carried him off with you in your carriage.”
“Well, my dear M. de Baisemeaux, it was a mistake. It was discovered at the Ministry; so that I now bring you an order from the King to set at liberty Seldon,- that poor devil of a Scotchman, you know.”
“Seldon! are you sure this time?”
“Well, read it yourself,” added Aramis, handing him the order.
“Why,” said Baisemeaux, “this order is the very same that has already passed through my hands.”
“Indeed?”
“It is the very one I assured you I saw the other evening. Parbleu! I recognize it by the blot of ink.”
“I do not know whether it is that; but, at any rate, it is the one I bring you.”
“But, then, about the other?”
“What other?”
“Marchiali?”
“I have him here with me.”
“But that is not enough for me. I require a new order to take him back again.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense, my dear Baisemeaux; you talk like a child! Where is the order you received respecting Marchiali?”
Baisemeaux ran to his iron chest and took it out. Aramis seized hold of it, coolly tore it in four pieces, held them to the lamp, and burned them.
“Good heavens! what are you doing?” exclaimed Baisemeaux, in an extremity of terror.
“Look at your position a little, my dear governor,” said Aramis, with his imperturbable self-possession, “and you will see that it is very simple. You no longer possess any order justifying Marchiali’s release.”
“I am a lost man!”
“Far from it, my good fellow, since I have brought Marchiali back to you, and it is just the same as if he had never left.”
“Ah!” said the governor, completely overcome by terror.
“Plain enough, you see; and you will go and shut him up immediately.”
“I should think so, indeed.”
“And you will hand over to me this Seldon, whose liberation is authorized by this order. In this way you square your conduct; do you understand?”
“I- I-”
“You do understand, I see,” said Aramis. “Very good!”
Baisemeaux clasped his hands together.
“But why, at all events, after having taken Marchiali away from me, do you bring him back again?” cried the unhappy governor, in a paroxysm of terror and completely dumfounded.
“For a friend such as you are,” said Aramis, “for so devoted a servant, I have no secrets”; and he put his mouth close to Baisemeaux’s ear, as he said in a low tone of voice, “you know the resemblance between that unfortunate fellow and-”
“And the King?- yes.”
“Very good; the very first use that Marchiali made of his liberty was to pretend- Can you guess what?”
“How is it likely I should guess?”
“To pretend that he was the King of France.”
“Oh, the wretch!” cried Baisemeaux.
“To dress himself up in clothes like those of the King, and attempt to play the role of usurper.”
“Gracious heavens!”
“That is the reason why I have brought him back again, my dear friend. He is mad, and lets every one see how mad he is.”
“What is to be done, then?”
“That is very simple; let no one hold any communication with him. You understand that when his peculiar style of madness came to the King’s ears, the King, who had pitied his terrible affliction, and saw how his kindness of heart had been repaid by such black ingratitude, became perfectly furious; so that now,- and remember this very distinctly, dear M. de Baisemeaux, for it concerns you most closely,- so that there is now, I repeat, sentence of death pronounced against all those who may allow him to communicate with any one else save me or the King himself. You understand, Baisemeaux,- sentence of death!”
“Do I understand? Morbleu!”
“And now go down and conduct this poor devil back to his dungeon again, unless you prefer he should come up here.”
“What would be the good of that?”
“It would be better, perhaps, to enter his name in the prison-book at once!”
“Pardieu!”
“Well, then, have him up!”
Baisemeaux ordered the drums to be beaten and the bell to be rung, as a warning to every one to retire in order to avoid meeting a mysterious prisoner. Then, when the passages were free, he went to take the prisoner from the carriage, at whose breast Porthos, faithful to the directions which had been given him, still kept his musket levelled. “Ah! is that you, miserable wretch?” cried the governor, as soon as he perceived the King. “Very good, very good!” and immediately, making the King get out of the carriage, he led him, still accompanied by Porthos, who had not taken off his mask, and Aramis, who again resumed his, up the stairs, to the second Bertaudiere, and opened the door of the room in which Philippe for six long years had bemoaned his existence. The King entered the cell without pronouncing a single word; he was pale and haggard.