taste for me; a glass for yourself."

"As you please." And Aramis and the governor nodded to each other, as
they drank their wine. "But," said Aramis, looking with fixed attention
at the ruby-colored wine he had raised to the level of his eyes, as if
he wished to enjoy it with all his senses at the same moment, "but
what you might call a resemblance, another would not, perhaps, take any
notice of."

"Most certainly he would, though, if it were any one who knew the person
he resembles."

"I really think, dear M. Baisemeaux, that it can be nothing more than a
resemblance of your own creation."

"Upon my honor, it is not so."

"Stay," continued Aramis, "I have seen many persons very like the one
we are speaking of; but, out of respect, no one ever said anything about
it."

"Very likely; because there is resemblance and resemblance. This is a
striking one, and, if you were to see him, you would admit it to be so."

"If I were to see him, indeed," said Aramis, in an indifferent tone;
"but in all probability I never shall."

"Why not?"

"Because if I were even to put my foot inside one of those horrible
dungeons, I should fancy I was buried there forever."

"No, no; the cells are very good places to live in."

"I really do not, and cannot believe it, and that is a fact."

"Pray do not speak ill of second Bertaudiere. It is really a good room,
very nicely furnished and carpeted. The young fellow has by no means
been unhappy there; the best lodging the Bastile affords has been his.
There is a chance for you."

"Nay, nay," said Aramis, coldly; "you will never make me believe there
are any good rooms in the Bastile; and, as for your carpets, they exist
only in your imagination. I should find nothing but spiders, rats, and
perhaps toads, too."

"Toads?" cried Baisemeaux.

"Yes, in the dungeons."

"Ah! I don't say there are not toads in the dungeons," replied
Baisemeaux. "But--will you be convinced by your own eyes?" he continued,
with a sudden impulse.

"No, certainly not."

"Not even to satisfy yourself of the resemblance which you deny, as you
do the carpets?"

"Some spectral-looking person, a mere shadow; an unhappy, dying man."

"Nothing of the kind--as brisk and vigorous a young fellow as ever
lived."

"Melancholy and ill-tempered, then?"

"Not at all; very gay and lively."

"Nonsense; you are joking."

"Will you follow me?" said Baisemeaux.

"What for?"

"To go the round of the Bastile."