"Decidedly, my dear Richelieu, I begin to think, as people say, that you have made a compact with the devil; that you may pass through key-holes, and I confess I shall be less uneasy now, in seeing you go to the Bastille."
"At any rate, you know, madame, that charity teaches us to visit prisoners, and if you retain any recollection of poor Armand—"
"Silence, duke, be discreet, and we will see what can be done for you. Meanwhile, you promise that mademoiselle shall see the regent?"
"It is a settled thing."
"Adieu, duke, and may the Bastille be easy to you."
"Is it adieu you say?"
"Au revoir!"
"That is right."
And having kissed Madame de Mouchy's hand he led her to the door; then, returning to Bathilde:
"Mademoiselle," said he, "what I am about to do for you compromises the reputation and honor of a princess of the blood, but the gravity of the occasion demands some sacrifice. Swear to me, then, that you will never tell, but to one person (for I know there are persons for whom you have no secrets), swear that you will never tell any but him, and that no other shall ever know in what manner you came to the regent."