“Having, then, a keeper like La Ramee, I should try also to have introduced to him by some friend or other a man who would be devoted to me, who would assist me in my flight.”
“Come, come,” said La Ramee, “that’s not a bad idea.”
“Capital, isn’t it? for instance, the former servingman of some brave gentleman, an enemy himself to Mazarin, as every gentleman ought to be.”
“Hush! don’t let us talk politics, my lord.”
“Then my keeper would begin to trust this man and to depend upon him, and I should have news from those without the prison walls.”
“Ah, yes! but how can the news be brought to you?”
“Nothing easier; in a game of tennis, for example.”
“In a game of tennis?” asked La Ramee, giving more serious attention to the duke’s words.
“Yes; see, I send a ball into the moat; a man is there who picks it up; the ball contains a letter. Instead of returning the ball to me when I call for it from the top of the wall, he throws me another; that other ball contains a letter. Thus we have exchanged ideas and no one has seen us do it.”
“The devil it does! The devil it does!” said La Ramee, scratching his head; “you are in the wrong to tell me that, my lord. I shall have to watch the men who pick up balls.”