X

Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part two

“That is likely enough, for you have so many affairs to

attend to. However, I do not believe you have any affair in

the world of greater importance than this one.”

“Tell me, then, why we purchased this appointment.”

“Why, in order to render him a service in the first place,

and afterwards ourselves.”

“Ourselves? You are joking.”

“Monseigneur, the time may come when the governor of the

Bastile may prove a very excellent acquaintance.”

“I have not the good fortune to understand you, D’Herblay.”

“Monseigneur, we had our own poets, our own engineer, our

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own architect, our own musicians, our own printer, and our

own painters; we needed our own governor of the Bastile.”

“Do you think so?”

“Let us not deceive ourselves, monseigneur; we are very much

opposed to paying the Bastile a visit,” added the prelate,

displaying, beneath his pale lips, teeth which were still

the same beautiful teeth so much admired thirty years

previously by Marie Michon.

“And you think it is not too much to pay one hundred and

fifty thousand francs for that? I thought you generally put

out money at better interest than that.”

“The day will come when you will admit your mistake.”

“My dear D’Herblay, the very day on which a man enters the

Bastile, he is no longer protected by his past.”

“Yes, he is, if the bonds are perfectly regular; besides,

that good fellow Baisemeaux has not a courtier’s heart. I am

certain, my lord, that he will not remain ungrateful for

that money, without taking into account, I repeat, that I

retain the acknowledgments.”

“It is a strange affair! usury in a matter of benevolence.”

“Do not mix yourself up with it, monseigneur; if there be

usury, it is I who practice it, and both of us reap the

advantage from it — that is all.”

“Some intrigue, D’Herblay?”

“I do not deny it.”

“And Baisemeaux an accomplice in it?”

“Why not? — there are worse accomplices than he. May I

depend, then, upon the five thousand pistoles to-morrow?”

“Do you want them this evening?”

“It would be better, for I wish to start early; poor

Baisemeaux will not be able to imagine what has become of

me, and must be upon thorns.”

“You shall have the amount in an hour. Ah, D’Herblay, the

interest of your one hundred and fifty thousand francs will

never pay my four millions for me.”

“Why not, monseigneur.”

“Good-night, I have business to transact with my clerks

before I retire.”

“A good night’s rest, monseigneur.”

“D’Herblay, you wish things that are impossible.”

“Shall I have my fifty thousand francs this evening?”

“Yes.”

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“Go to sleep, then, in perfect safety — it is I who tell

you to do so.”

Notwithstanding this assurance, and the tone in which it was

given, Fouquet left the room shaking his head, and heaving a

sigh.

CHAPTER 98

M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun’s Accounts

The clock of St. Paul was striking seven as Aramis, on

horseback, dressed as a simple citizen, that is to say, in

colored suit, with no distinctive mark about him, except a

kind of hunting-knife by his side, passed before the Rue du

Petit-Muse, and stopped opposite the Rue des Tourelles, at

the gate of the Bastile. Two sentinels were on duty at the

gate; they made no difficulty about admitting Aramis, who

entered without dismounting, and they pointed out the way he

was to go by a long passage with buildings on both sides.

This passage led to the drawbridge, or, in other words, to

the real entrance. The drawbridge was down, and the duty of

the day was about being entered upon. The sentinel at the

outer guardhouse stopped Aramis’s further progress, asking

him, in a rough tone of voice, what had brought him there.

Aramis explained, with his usual politeness, that a wish to

speak to M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun had occasioned his

visit. The first sentinel then summoned a second sentinel,

stationed within an inner lodge, who showed his face at the

grating, and inspected the new arrival most attentively.

Aramis reiterated the expression of his wish to see the

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