The Man in the Iron Mask

pper at th

es of M. de Baisemeaux, sovereign dispenser of gastronomic delicacies, head cook of the royal fortress, whose trays, full-laden, were ascending the steep staircases, carrying some consolation to the prisoners in the shape of honestly filled bottles of good vintages. This same hour was that of M. le gouverneur's supper also. He had a guest today, and the spit turned more heavily than usual. Roast partridges, flanked with quails and flanking a larded leveret; boiled fowls; hams, fried and sprinkled with white wine, cardons of Guipuzcoa and la bisque ecrevisses: these, together with soups and hors d'oeuvres, constituted the governor's bill of fare. Baisemeaux, seated at table, was rubbing his hands and loo

Aramis; "call me mon

ur, of whom you remi

ng up his glass; "but I hope I

. Francois, shut the window; th

d we shall eat it very well without waiters. I like exceedingly to b

," continued Aramis

ess puts me in mind of two persons; one very illustrious, the late c

d Aramis; "an

from being abbe, turned musketeer, and from musketeer turned abbe." Aramis condescended to smile. "F

e, I beg," exc

ieur, that you gave me

he boots of a cavalier, but I do not intend, for all

intentions, neverth

I own, as everyt

town and the str

uise, as

l make use of

ly when I am compelled. Do me t

u no win

because it is hot here,

time so as not to hear the sou

ar them when the

d that disturbs m

ered. "Open the windows, I pray you, Master Francois,"

ink," said M. de Baisemeaux, "that you will find yourself very lonely, now M. de la

meaux, seeing that you were

I reckon neither bottl

ore than love M. de la Fere, d

r M. d'Artagnan to him. There is a man for you, who drinks long and we

of old, and if I have a trouble at the bottom of my heart, I promise yo

k, in the secret of some high archiepiscopal misdemeanor. While he was drinking he did not see with what attention Aramis was noting the sounds in the great

take him,"

'tis neither the wine you drank nor h

making noise enough in the

ttention to the passing bottle. "Yes; and may the devil take him, and

lass is empty," said Aramis, lif

Francois, wine!" Francois ente

es; but a courier

to the dev

onsieur

tomorrow. To-morrow, there will be time tomorrow; there

he soldier Francois, in sp

said Aramis

erblay," said Baiseme

brings to the governor of a fo

ly al

s issue from

doubtedl

ers do but countersign th

fore a good table, tete-a-tete with a friend - Ah! I beg your pardon, monsieur;

r Baisemeaux, and return to

what has Fr

s demu

wrong,

dinary in this matter. It is very possible that it was not Francois who was

before Francois? tha

But I thought it my duty to make an

The king's order is sacred; but as to orders that ar

cardinal - hem! my dear Baisemeaux,

sturb a bishop. Mordioux!

ave worn the soldier's coat, and I a

ish, t

our duty, my friend; yes, a

escaping,' Ah! if you only knew, monseigneur, how many times I have been suddenly awakened from the very sweetest, deepest slumber, by messengers arriving at full gallop to tell me, or rather, bring me a slip of paper containing these words: 'Monsieur de Baisemeaux, what news?' 'Tis clear enough that those who waste their time writing such orders have never slept i

ours," added the

and as slowly read it. Aramis pretended to be drinking, so as to be able to watch his host

t?" asked

here, now; excellent ne

it concerns, you will at le

t o'clock in

chari

low who says he is so weary and tired, but not for me

nd is the prisoner who is to b

d! a miserable,

ed M. d'Herblay. "It

means;

n the paper; you have

e today, this very evening, at eight o'clock! -urgent!" And Baisemeaux, shrugging his shou

his fellow well,' or 'Keep him very strictly.' And then, as soon as you are accustomed to look upon the prisoner as a dangerous man, all of a sudden, without rhyme or

them to write," said Aramis,

h, patience! You must not

. Baisemeaux, who ever said so?

k Hea

ness of heart

't speak

eriors. Once a soldier, you see

orrow morning, at daybreak, the pri

morr

da

the lettre de cachet bears, both on

are at supper, and our

is unfortunate man has suffered long enough, since you have just told me that he has been your prisoner these ten years. Abrid

wis

treat

very middle

h an action is wort

desire, only our s

ver hee

portunity when Baisemeaux was not looking to change the paper for another, folded in the same manner, which he drew swiftly from his pocket. "Francois," said the