The Second Floor of la Bertaudiere.
On the second flight of stairs, whether from fatigue or emotion, the breathing of the visitor began to fail him, and he leaned against the wall."Will you begin with this one?"said Baisemeaux; "for since we are going to both, it matters very little whether we ascend from the second to the third story, or descend from the third to the second.""No, no," exclaimed Aramis, eagerly, "higher, if you please;the one above is the more urgent." They continued their ascent."Ask the jailer for the keys," whispered Aramis.
Baisemeaux did so, took the keys, and, himself, opened the door of the third room.The jailer was the first to enter;he placed upon the table the provisions, which the kind-hearted governor called dainties, and then left the room.The prisoner had not stirred; Baisemeaux then entered, while Aramis remained at the threshold, from which place he saw a youth about eighteen years of age, who, raising his head at the unusual noise, jumped off the bed, as he perceived the governor, and clasping his hands together, began to cry out, "My mother, my mother," in tones which betrayed such deep distress that Aramis, despite his command over himself, felt a shudder pass through his frame."My dear boy," said Baisemeaux, endeavoring to smile, "I have brought you a diversion and an extra, -- the one for the mind, the other for the body; this gentleman has come to take your measure, and here are some preserves for your dessert.""Oh, monsieur," exclaimed the young man, "keep me in solitude for a year, let me have nothing but bread and water for a year, but tell me that at the end of a year I shall leave this place, tell me that at the end of a year I shall see my mother again.""But I have heard you say that your mother was very poor, and that you were very badly lodged when you were living with her, while here -- upon my word!""If she were poor, monsieur, the greater reason to restore her only means of support to her.Badly lodged with her! Oh, monsieur, every one is always well lodged when he is free.""At all events, since you yourself admit you have done nothing but write that unhappy distich ---- ""But without any intention, I swear.Let me be punished --cut off the hand which wrote it, I will work with the other -- but restore my mother to me.""My boy," said Baisemeaux, "you know very well that it does not depend upon me; all I can do for you is to increase your rations, give you a glass of port wine now and then, slip in a biscuit for you between a couple of plates.""Great heaven!" exclaimed the young man, falling backward and rolling on the ground.
Aramis, unable to bear this scene any longer, withdrew as far as the landing."Unhappy, wretched man," he murmured.
"Yes, monsieur, he is indeed very wretched," said the jailer; "but it is his parents' fault.
"In what way?"
"No doubt.Why did they let him learn Latin? Too much knowledge, you see; it is that which does harm.Now I, for instance, can't read or write, and therefore I am not in prison." Aramis looked at the man, who seemed to think that being a jailer in the Bastile was not being in prison.As for Baisemeaux, noticing the little effect produced by his advice and his port wine, he left the dungeon quite upset.
"You have forgotten to close the door," said the jailer.
"So I have," said Baisemeaux, "there are the keys, do you do it.""I will solicit the pardon of that poor boy," said Aramis.
"And if you do not succeed," said Baisemeaux, "at least beg that he may be transferred to the ten-franc list, by which both he and I shall be gainers.""If the other prisoner calls out for his mother in a similar manner," said Aramis, "I prefer not to enter at all, but will take my measure from outside.""No fear of that, monsieur architect, the one we are now going to see is as gentle as a lamb; before he could call after his mother he must open his lips, and he never says a word.""Let us go in, then," said Aramis, gloomily.
"Are you the architect of the prisons, monsieur?" said the jailer.
"I am."
"It is odd, then, that you are not more accustomed to all this."Aramis perceived that, to avoid giving rise to any suspicions he must summon all his strength of mind to his assistance.Baisemeaux, who carried the keys, opened the door."Stay outside," he said to the jailer, "and wait for us at the bottom of the steps." The jailer obeyed and withdrew.
Baisemeaux entered first and opened the second door himself.
By the light which filtered through the iron-barred window, could be seen a handsome young man, short in stature, with closely cut hair, and a beard beginning to grow; he was sitting on a stool, his elbow resting on an armchair, and all the upper part of his body reclining against it.His dress, thrown upon the bed, was of rich black velvet, and he inhaled the fresh air which blew in upon his breast through a shirt of the very finest cambric.As the governor entered, the young man turned his head with a look full of indifference; and on recognizing Baisemeaux, he arose and saluted him courteously.But when his eyes fell upon Aramis, who remained in the background, the latter trembled, turned pale, and his hat, which he held in his hand, fell upon the ground, as if all his muscles had become relaxed at once.
Baisemeaux, habituated to the presence of his prisoner, did not seem to share any of the sensations which Aramis experienced, but, with all the zeal of a good servant, he busied himself in arranging on the table the pasty and crawfish he had brought with him.Occupied in this manner, he did not remark how disturbed his guest had become.When he had finished, however, he turned to the young prisoner and said: "You are looking very well, -- are you so?""Quite well, I thank you, monsieur," replied the young man.