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Updated: May 26, 2025
What good is there in asking that which can be obtained without solicitation?" "I do not understand you, sire." "It is not difficult, either. Where am I now?" "In the Bastile, sire." "Yes; in a dungeon. I am looked upon as a madman, am I not?" "Yes, sire." "And no one is known here but Marchiali?" "Certainly." "Well; change nothing in the position of affairs.
This investigation, under ordinary circumstances, would have made the ears of the impatient Aramis burn with anger; but the bishop of Vannes did not become incensed for so little, above all, when he had murmured to himself that to do so was dangerous. "Are you going to release Marchiali?" he said. "What mellow, fragrant and delicious sherry this is, my dear governor."
"On the 19th November 1703, Marchiali, aged about forty-five, died in the Bastille, whose body was buried in the graveyard of Saint-Paul's, his parish, on the 20th instant, in the presence of M. Rosarges and of M. Reilh, Surgeon-Major of the Bastille.
M. de Baisemeaux, thoroughly impressed with what Aramis had told him, and in perfect conformity with the king's order, hoped only that one thing might happen; namely, that the madman Marchiali might be mad enough to hang himself to the canopy of his bed, or to one of the bars of the window.
"I am a lost man!" "Far from it, my good fellow, since I have brought Marchiali back to you, and all accordingly 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 this Seldon to me, whose liberation is authorized by this order.
"I thought I had already spoken to you about that Marchiali." "No, it is the first time I ever heard his name pronounced." "That may be, but perhaps I have spoken to you about him without naming him." "Is he an old offender?" asked Aramis, attempting to smile. "On the contrary, he is quite young." "Is his crime, then, very heinous?" "Unpardonable." "Has he assassinated any one?" "Bah!"
They are to the effect that the turnkey, or one of the lower officials, shall bring the prisoner before the governor, in the office." "Well, 'tis very wise, that; and then?" "Then we return to the prisoner the valuables he wore at the time of his imprisonment, his clothes and papers, if the minister's orders have not otherwise dictated." "What was the minister's order as to this Marchiali?"
"The same as this one, then," said Aramis, who had continued turning over the leaves, and who had stopped at one of the names which followed Martinier. "Yes, the same as that one." "Is that Marchiali an Italian?" said Aramis, pointing with his finger to the name which had attracted his attention. "Hush!" said Baisemeaux. "Why hush?" said Aramis, involuntarily clenching his white hand.
Do you understand?" "You do understand, I see," said Aramis. "Very good." Baisemeaux clapped 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 dumbfounded.
"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.
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