forgotten that, on quitting the Bastile, D'Artagnan
and the Comte de la Fere had left Aramis in close confabulation with
Baisemeaux. When once these two guests had departed, Baisemeaux did not
in the least perceive that the conversation suffered by their absence.
He used to think that wine after supper, and that of the Bastile
in particular, was excellent, and that it was a stimulation quite
sufficient to make any honest man talkative. But he little knew
his Greatness, who was never more impenetrable that at dessert. His
Greatness, however, perfectly understood M. de Baisemeaux, when he
reckoned on making the governor discourse by the means which the latter
regarded as efficacious. The conversation, therefore, without flagging
in appearance, flagged in reality; for Baisemeaux not only had it nearly
all to himself, but further, kept speaking only of that singular event,
the incarceration of Athos, followed by so prompt an order to set him
again at liberty. Nor, moreover, had Baisemeaux failed to observe that
the two orders of arrest and of liberation, were both in the king's
hand. But then, the king would not take the trouble to write similar
orders except under pressing circumstances. All this was very
interesting, and, above all, very puzzling to Baisemeaux; but as, on the
other hand, all this was very clear to Aramis, the latter did not
attach to the occurrence the same importance as did the worthy governor.
Besides, Aramis rarely put himself out of the way for anything, and he
had not yet told M. de Baisemeaux for what reason he had now done so.
And so at the very climax of Baisemeaux's dissertation, Aramis suddenly
interrupted him.

"Tell me, my dear Baisemeaux," said he, "have you never had any other
diversions at the Bastile than those at which I assisted during the two
or three visits I have had the honor to pay you?"

This address was so unexpected that the governor, like a vane which
suddenly receives an impulsion opposed to that of the wind, was quite
dumbfounded at it. "Diversions!" said he; "but I take them continually,
monseigneur."

"Oh, to be sure! And these diversions?"

"Are of every kind."

"Visits, no doubt?"

"No, not visits. Visits are not frequent at the Bastile."

"What, are visits rare, then?"

"Very much so."

"Even on the part of your society?"

"What do you term my society--the prisoners?"

"Oh, no!--your prisoners, indeed! I know well it is you who visit them,
and not they you