“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 with its command.”
“Monseigneur, I beseech you, condescend to hear me.”
“And wherefore?”
“Monseigneur, I do not say that I have nothing to do with the society.”
“Ah! ah!”
“I say not that I refuse to obey.”