"I entreat you, monseigneur—"
"That will do. Lead me to the prisoner."
"To Marchiali?"
"Who is Marchiali?"
"The prisoner who was brought back this morning by M. d'Herblay."
"He is called Marchiali," said the surintendant, his conviction somewhat shaken by Baisemeaux's cool manner.
"Yes, monseigneur; that is the name under which he was inscribed here."
Fouquet looked steadily at Baisemeaux, as if he would read his very heart; and perceived, with that clear-sightedness which men possess who are accustomed to the exercise of power, that the man was speaking with the most perfect sincerity. Besides, in observing his face for a few moments, he could not believe that Aramis would have chosen such a confidant.
"It is the prisoner," said the surintendant to him, "whom M. d'Herblay carried away the day before yesterday?"
"Yes, monseigneur."