“To Marchiali?”
“Who is Marchiali?”
“The prisoner who was brought back this morning by M. d’Herblay.”
“He is called Marchiali?” said the superintendent, his conviction somewhat shaken by Baisemeaux’s cool manner.
“Yes, Monseigneur; that is the name under which he was inscribed here.”
Fouquet looked steadily at Baisemeaux, as if he would read his very heart; and perceived, with that clear-sightedness most men possess who are accustomed to the exercise of power, that the man was speaking with perfect sincerity. Besides, in observing his face for a few moments, he could not believe that Aramis would have chosen such a confidant.
“It is the prisoner,” said the superintendent to him, “whom M. d’Herblay carried away the day before yesterday?”
“Yes, Monseigneur.”
“And whom he brought back this morning?” added Fouquet, quickly: for he understood immediately the mechanism of Aramis’s plan.
“Precisely, Monseigneur.”
“And his name is Marchiali, you say?”
“Yes, Marchiali. If Monseigneur has come here to remove him, so much the better, for I was going to write about him.”
“What has he done, then?”
“Ever since this morning he has annoyed me extremely. He has had such terrible fits of passion, as almost to make me believe that he would bring the Bastille itself down about our ears.”
“I will soon relieve you of his possession,” said Fouquet.
“Ah! so much the better.”
“Conduct me to his prison.”
“Will Monseigneur give me the order?”
“What order?”
“An order from the king.”
“Wait until I sign you one.”
“That will not be sufficient, Monseigneur. I must have an order from the king.”
Fouquet assumed an irritated expression. “As you are so scrupulous,” he said, “with regard to allowing prisoners to leave, show me the order by which this one was set at liberty.”
Baisemeaux showed him the order to release Seldon.
“Very good,” said Fouquet; “but Seldon is not Marchiali.”
“But Marchiali is not at liberty, Monseigneur; he is here.”
“But you said that M. d’Herblay carried him away and brought him back again.”
“I did not say so.”
“So surely did you say it, that I almost seem to hear it now.”
“It was a slip of my tongue, then, Monseigneur.”
“Take care, M. Baisemeaux, take care.”
“I have nothing to fear, Monseigneur; I am acting according to the very strictest regulation.”
“Do you dare to say so?”
“I would say so in the presence of one of the apostles. M. d’Herblay brought me an order to set Seldon at liberty. Seldon is free.”
“I tell you that Marchiali has left the Bastille.”
“You must prove that, Monseigneur.”
“Let me see him.”
“You, Monseigneur, who govern this kingdom, know very well that no one can see any of the prisoners without an express order from the king.”
“M. d’Herblay has entered, however.”
“That remains to be proved, Monseigneur.”
“M. de Baisemeaux, once more I warn you to pay particular attention to what you are saying.”
“All the documents are there, Monseigneur.”
“M. d’Herblay is overthrown.”
“Overthrown?—M. d’Herblay! Impossible!”
“You see that he has undoubtedly influenced you.”
“No, Monseigneur; what does, in fact, influence me, is the king’s service. I am doing my duty. Give me an order from him, and you shall enter.”
“Stay, M. le Gouverneur, I give you my word that if you allow me to see the prisoner, I will give you an order from the king at once.”
“Give it to me now, Monseigneur.”
“And that, if you refuse me, I will have you and all your officers arrested on the spot.”
“Before you commit such an act of violence, Monseigneur, you will reflect,” said Baisemeaux, who had turned very pale, “that we will only obey an order signed by the king; and that it will be just as easy for you to obtain one to see Marchiali as to obtain one to do me so much injury; me, too, who am perfectly innocent.”
“True. True!” cried Fouquet, furiously; “perfectly true. M. de Baisemeaux,” he added, in a sonorous voice, drawing the unhappy governor towards him, “do you know why I am so anxious to speak to the prisoner?”
“No, Monseigneur; and allow me to observe that you are terrifying me out of my senses; I am trembling all over—in fact, I feel as though I were about to faint.”
“You will stand a better chance of fainting outright, Monsieur Baisemeaux, when I return here at the head of ten thousand men and thirty pieces of cannon.”
“Good heavens, Monseigneur, you are losing your senses.”
“When I have roused the whole population of Paris against you and your accursed towers, and have battered open the gates of this place, and hanged you to the topmost tree of yonder pinnacle!”
“Monseigneur! Monseigneur! for pity’s sake!”
“I give you ten minutes to make up your mind,” added Fouquet, in a calm voice. “I will sit down here, in this armchair, and wait for you; if, in ten minutes’ time, you still persist, I leave this place, and you may think me as mad as you like. Then—you shall see!”
Baisemeaux stamped his foot on the ground like a man in a state of despair, but he did not reply a single syllable; whereupon Fouquet seized a pen and ink, and wrote:
“Order for M. le Prévôt des Marchands to assemble the municipal guard and to march upon the Bastille on the king’s immediate service.”
Baisemeaux shrugged his shoulders. Fouquet wrote:
“Order for the Duc de Bouillon and M. le Prince de Condé to assume the command of the Swiss guards, of the king’s Guards, and to march upon the Bastille on the king’s immediate service.”
Baisemeaux reflected. Fouquet still wrote:
“Order for every soldier, citizen, or gentleman to seize and apprehend, wherever he may be found, le Chevalier d’Herblay, Évêque de Vannes, and his accomplices, who are: first, M. de Baisemeaux, governor of the Bastille, suspected of the crimes of high treason and rebellion—”
“Stop, Monseigneur!” cried Baisemeaux; “I do not understand a single jot of the whole matter; but so many misfortunes, even were it madness itself that had set them at their awful work, might happen here in a couple of hours, that the king, by whom I must be judged, will see whether I have been wrong in withdrawing the countersign before this flood of imminent catastrophes. Come with me to the keep, Monseigneur, you shall see Marchiali.”
Fouquet darted out of the room, followed by
