“I do,” returned Aramis.
“I tell you that we have names which have been inscribed on our books thrice in the space of two years.”
“I must see it before I believe it,” said Aramis.
“Well, I can show it to you, although it is prohibited to communicate the registers to strangers; and if you really wish to see it with your own eyes——”
“I should be delighted, I confess.”
“Very well,” said Baisemeaux, and he took out of a cupboard a large register. Aramis followed him most anxiously with his eyes, and Baisemeaux returned, placed the register upon the table, and turned over the leaves for a minute, and stayed at the letter M.
“Look here,” said he, “Martinier, January, 1659; Martinier, June, 1660; Martinier, March, 1661. Mazarinades, etc.; you understand it was only a pretext; people were not sent to the Bastile for jokes against M. Mazarin; the fellow denounced himself in order to get imprisoned here.”
“And what was his object?”
“None other than to return to my kitchen at three francs a day.”
“Three francs—poor devil!”