"Remain, then."
"I cannot."
"And why?"
"Because I have no longer anything to do here; and, indeed, I have duties to fulfill 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' 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."