bleman obey?"

Aramis did not yield an inch, but with that silvery voice of his
continued: "It is very pleasant," said he, "for a French nobleman, for
a prelate of France, to hear a man of your mark express himself so
loyally, dear De Baisemeaux, and having heard you to believe no more
than you do."

"Have you doubted, monsieur?"

"I? oh, no!"

"And so you doubt no longer?"

"I have no longer any doubt that such a man as you, monsieur," said
Aramis, gravely, "does not faithfully serve the masters whom he
voluntarily chose for himself."

"Masters!" cried Baisemeaux.

"Yes, masters, I said."

"Monsieur d'Herblay, you are still jesting, are you not?"

"Oh, yes! I understand that it is a more difficult position to have
several masters than one; but the embarrassment is owing to you, my dear
Baisemeaux, and I am not the cause of it."

"Certainly not," returned the unfortunate governor, more embarrassed
than ever; "but what are you doing? You are leaving the table?"

"Assuredly."

"Are you going?"

"Yes, I am going."

"But you are behaving very strangely towards me, monseigneur."

"I am behaving strangely--how do you make that out?"

"Have you sworn, then, to put me to the torture?"

"No, I should be sorry to do so."

"Remain, then."

"I cannot."

"And why?"

"Because I have no longer anything to do here; and, indeed, I have
duties to fulfil elsewhere."

"Duties, so late as this?"

"Yes; understand me now, my dear De Baisemeaux: they told me at the
place whence I came, 'The aforesaid governor or captain will allow
to enter, as need shall arise, on the prisoner's demand, a confessor
affiliated with the order.' I came; you do not know what I mean, and so
I shall return to tell them that they are mistaken, and that they must
send me elsewhere."

"What! you are--" cried Baisemeaux, looking at Aramis almost in terror.

"The confessor affiliated to the order," said Aramis, without changing
his voice.

But, gentle as the words were, they had the same effect on the unhappy
governor as a clap of thunder. Baisemeaux became livid, and it seemed to
him as if Aramis's beaming eyes were two forks of flame, piercing to
the very bottom of his soul. "The confessor!" murmured he; "you,
monseigneur, the confessor of the order!"

"Yes, I; but we have nothing to unravel together, seeing that you are
not one of the affiliated."

"Monseigneur!"

"And I understand that, not being so, you refuse to comply wit