"What, in four or five days?"
"From the first hour."
"What kind of ennui do you feel?"
"Are there several?"
"Certainly--one pines for his family."
"I have none."
"For his mistress."
Gaston sighed.
"For one"s country."
"Yes," said Gaston, "it is that," seeing that he must say something.
The governor appeared to reflect.
"Monsieur," said he, "since I have been governor of the Bastille, my only agreeable moments have been those in which I have been of service to the gentlemen confided to my care by the king. I am ready to do anything for you if you will promise to be reasonable."
"I promise you, monsieur."
"I can put you in communication with one of your compatriots, or at least with a man who seems to know Bretagne perfectly."
"Is he a prisoner?"
"Like yourself."
A vague sentiment pa.s.sed through Gaston"s mind that it must be this man who had slipped the note into his hand. "I should be very grateful if you would do this," said he.
"Well, to-morrow you shall see him; but as I am recommended to be strict with him, you can only remain with him an hour, and as he may not quit his chamber, you must go to him."
"As you please, monsieur," said Gaston.
"Then it is decided; at five o"clock expect me or the major; but it is on one condition."
"What is it?"
"That in consideration of this distraction you will eat a little to-day."
"I will try."
Gaston eat a little chicken and drank a little wine to keep his promise.
In the evening he told Dumesnil what had pa.s.sed.
"Ma foi," said he, "you are lucky; the Count de Laval had the same idea, and all he got was to be put into a room in the tower Du Tresor, where he said he was dreadfully dull, and had no amus.e.m.e.nt but speaking to the prison apothecary."
"Diable!" said Gaston, "why did you not tell me that before?"
"I had forgotten it."
This tardy recollection troubled Gaston somewhat; placed as he was between Pompadour, Dumesnil, and Mademoiselle de Launay, his position was tolerable; if he were to be removed, he would be really attacked by the malady he had feigned.
At the appointed time the major of the Bastille came, and led Gaston across several courts, and they stopped at the tower Du Tresor. Every tower had its separate name.
In the room number one was a prisoner asleep on a folding bed, with his back turned to the light; the remains of his dinner were by him on a worn-out wooden table, and his costume, torn in many places, indicated a man of low station.
"Ouais," said Gaston, "did they think that I was so fond of Bretagne, that any fellows who happened to have been born at Nismes or at Penmarch may be raised to the rank of my Pylades? No, this fellow is too ragged, and seems to eat too much; but as one must not be too capricious in prison, let us make use of the hour--I will recount my adventure to Mademoiselle de Launay, and she will put it into verse for the Chevalier Dumesnil."
Gaston was now alone with the prisoner, who yawned and turned in his bed.
"Ugh! how cold it is in this cursed Bastille," said he, rubbing his nose.
"That voice, that gesture--it is he!" said Gaston, and he approached the bed.
"What," cried the prisoner, sitting up in bed, and looking at Gaston, "you here, M. de Chanlay?"
"Captain la Jonquiere," cried Gaston.
"Myself--that is to say, I am the person you name; but my name is changed."
"To what?"----"First Tresor."
"What?"
"First Tresor. It is a custom in the Bastille for the prisoner to take the name of his room--that saves the turnkey the trouble of remembering names; however, if the Bastille be full, and two or three prisoners in the same room, they take two numbers; for example: I am first Tresor, if you were put here you would be first Tresor number two; another would be first Tresor number three--the jailers have a kind of Latin literature for this."
"Yes, I understand," said Gaston, watching La Jonquiere intently; "then you are a prisoner?"
"Parbleu, you see for yourself; I presume we are neither of us here for pleasure."
"Then we are discovered."
"I am afraid so."
"Thanks to you."
"How to me?" cried La Jonquiere, feigning surprise. "No jokes, I beg."
"You have made revelations, traitor!"
"I! come, come, young man, you are mad; you ought not to be in the Bastille, but in the Pet.i.tes Maisons."
"Do not deny it, M. d"Argenson told me!"