Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part two

“I leave you, D’Artagnan,” said Athos.

“Not before I have presented Monsieur Baisemeaux de

Montlezun, the governor of the Bastile.”

Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other.

“Surely you must know each other,” said D’Artagnan.

“I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux,”

said Athos.

“You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king’s guardsman

with whom we used formerly to have such delightful meetings

in the cardinal’s time?”

“Perfectly,” said Athos, taking leave of him with

affability.

“Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose nom de guerre was

Athos,” whispered D’Artagnan to Baisemeaux.

“Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four.”

“Precisely so. But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?”

“If you please.”

“In the first place, as for the orders — there are none.

The king does not intend to arrest the person in question.”

“So much the worse,” said Baisemeaux with a sigh.

“What do you mean by so much the worse?” exclaimed

D’Artagnan, laughing.

“No doubt of it,” returned the governor, “my prisoners are

my income.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light.”

“And so there are no orders,” repeated Baisemeaux with a

sigh. “What an admirable situation yours is captain,” he

continued, after a pause, “captain-lieutenant of the

musketeers.”

“Oh, it is good enough; but I don’t see why you should envy

me; you, governor of the Bastile, the first castle in

France.”

“I am well aware of that,” said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful

tone of voice.

“You say that like a man confessing his sins. I would

willingly exchange my profits for yours.”

“Don’t speak of profits to me if you wish to save me the

bitterest anguish of mind.”

“Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as

if you were afraid of being arrested yourself, you whose

business it is to arrest others?”

“I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to

us; it would be safer to confer more in private, if you

would grant me such a favor.”

“Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five

and thirty years’ standing. Don’t assume such sanctified

airs; make yourself quite comfortable; I don’t eat governors

of the Bastile raw.”

“Heaven be praised!”

“Come into the courtyard with me, it’s a beautiful moonlight

night; we will walk up and down arm in arm under the trees,

while you tell me your pitiful tale.” He drew the doleful

governor into the courtyard, took him by the arm as he had

said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried: “Out with

it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You prefer your own lamentations, then; my opinion is, it

will be longer than ever. I’ll wager you are making fifty

thousand francs out of your pigeons in the Bastile.”

“Would to heaven that were the case, M. d’Artagnan.”

“You surprise me, Baisemeaux; just look at you, acting the

anchorite. I should like to show you your face in a glass,

and you would see how plump and florid-looking you are, as

fat and round as a cheese, with eyes like lighted coals; and

if it were not for that ugly wrinkle you try to cultivate on

your forehead, you would hardly look fifty years old, and

you are sixty, if I am not mistaken.”

“All quite true.”

“Of course I knew it was true, as true as the fifty thousand

francs profit you make,” at which remark Baisemeaux stamped

on the ground.

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Well, well,” said D’Artagnan, “I will add up your accounts

for you: you were captain of M. Mazarin’s guards; and twelve

thousand francs a year would in twelve years amount to one

hundred and forty thousand francs.”

“Twelve thousand francs! Are you mad?” cried Baisemeaux;

“the old miser gave me no more than six thousand, and the

expenses of the post amounted to six thousand five hundred

francs. M. Colbert, who deducted the other six thousand

francs, condescended to allow me to take fifty pistoles as a

gratification; so that, if it were not for my little estate

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