"And on my part I do not comprehend you, monsieur."
"Well, then, try to understand me." The prisoner looked fixedly at Aramis. "Sometimes it seems to me," said the latter, "that I have before me the man whom I seek, and then—"
"And then your man disappears—is it not so?" said the prisoner, smiling. "So much the better."
Aramis rose. "Certainly," said he; "I have nothing further to say to a man who mistrusts me as you do."
"And I, monsieur," said the prisoner, in the same tone, "have nothing to say to a man who will not understand that a prisoner ought to be mistrustful of everybody."
"Even of his old friends?" said Aramis. "Oh, monseigneur, you are too prudent!"
"Of my old friends?—you one of my old friends—you?"
"Do you no longer remember," said Aramis, "that you once saw in the village where your early years were spent—"
"Do you know the name of the village?" asked the prisoner.
"Noisy-le-Sec, monseigneur," answered Aramis, firmly.