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Updated: June 9, 2025
And while he composed his face, and continued to smile cheerfully on the governor, he was considering how Baisemeaux, who was not aware of his address, knew, however, that Vannes was his residence. "I shall clear all this up," he said to himself; and then speaking aloud, added, "Well, my dear governor shall we now arrange our little accounts?"
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.
A fearful cry, followed by a violent blow against the door, made the whole staircase resound with the echo. "Leave this place," said Fouquet to Baisemeaux, in a threatening tone. "I ask nothing better," murmured the latter, to himself. "There will be a couple of madmen face to face, and the one will kill the other, I am sure." "Go!" repeated Fouquet.
"What! Vannes in Bretagne?" "Yes." The little man began to tear his hair, saying, "How can I get to Vannes from here by midday to-morrow? I am a lost man." "Your despair quite distresses me." "Vannes, Vannes!" cried Baisemeaux. "But listen; a bishop is not always a resident. M. d'Herblay may not possibly be so far away as you fear." "Pray tell me his address." "I really don't know it."
They had supped, talked a good deal about the Bastile, of the last journey to Fontainebleau, of the intended fete that M. Fouquet was about to give at Vaux; they had generalized on every possible subject; and no one, excepting Baisemeaux, had in the slightest degree alluded to private matters.
The king entered the cell without pronouncing a single word: he faltered in as limp and haggard as a rain-struck lily. Baisemeaux shut the door upon him, turned the key twice in the lock, and then returned to Aramis. "It is quite true," he said, in a low tone, "that he bears a striking resemblance to the king; but less so than you said."
At first there was written: 'To be boarded at fifty francs." "As princes of the blood, in fact?" "But the cardinal must have seen his mistake, you understand; for he canceled the zero, and has added a one before the five. But, by the by " "What?" "You do not speak of the resemblance." "I do not speak of it, dear M. de Baisemeaux, for a very simple reason because it does not exist."
"In that case I am lost. I will go and throw myself at the king's feet." "But, Baisemeaux, I can hardly believe what you tell me; besides, since the Bastile is capable of producing fifty thousand francs a year, why have you not tried to screw one hundred thousand out of it?" "Because I am an honest man, M. d'Artagnan, and because my prisoners are fed like ambassadors."
"Pooh! some courier or other," replied the governor, redoubling his attention to the passing bottle. "Yes; and may the devil take him, and so quickly that we shall never hear him speak more. Hurrah! hurrah!" "You forget me, Baisemeaux! my glass is empty," said Aramis, lifting his dazzling Venetian goblet. "Upon my honor, you delight me. Francois, wine!" Francois entered.
"The result will be that I shall go to the king, with whom I am on tolerably good terms, to whom I have been happy enough to render certain services, dating from a period when you were not born, and who, at my request, has just sent me an order in blank for M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun, governor of the Bastile; and I shall say to the king: 'Sire, a man has in a most cowardly way insulted M. de Bragelonne by insulting his mother; I have written this man's name upon the lettre de cachet which your majesty has been kind enough to give me, so that M. de Wardes is in the Bastile for three years."
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