“That is strange,” said Aramis.
“Is it not odd?” said Baisemeaux.
“May one venture to ask you, monsieur, on what you have reflected?”
“I felt that as I had committed no crime, Heaven could not punish me.”
“What is a prison, then,” inquired Aramis, “if it be not a punishment?”
“Alas! I cannot tell,” said the young man; “all that I can tell you now is the very opposite of what I felt seven years ago.”
“To hear you converse, to witness your resignation, one might almost believe that you liked your imprisonment?”
“I endure it.
“In the certainty of recovering your freedom some day, I suppose?”
“I have no certainty; hope I have, and that is all; and yet I acknowledge that this hope becomes less every day.”