“The order is signed to release Marchiali,” replied Baisemeaux, mechanically, endeavoring to regain his courage.
“And you are going to release this prisoner. If your heart dictates you to deliver Seldon also, I declare to you I will not oppose it the least in the world.” Aramis accompanied this remark with a smile, the irony of which effectually dispelled Baisemeaux’s confusion of mind, and restored his courage.
“Monseigneur,” he said, “this Marchiali is the very same prisoner whom the other day a priest confessor of our order came to visit in so imperious and so secret a manner.”
“I don’t know that, monsieur,” replied the bishop.
“‘Tis no such long time ago, dear Monsieur d’Herblay.”
“It is true. But with us, monsieur, it is good that the man of to-day should no longer know what the man of yesterday did.”
“In any case,” said Baisemeaux, “the visit of the Jesuit confessor must have given happiness to this man.”
Aramis made no reply, but recommenced eating and drinking. As for Baisemeaux, no longer touching anything that was on the table, he again took up the order and examined it every way. This investigation, under ordinary circumstances, would have made the ears of the impatient Aramis burn with anger; but the bishop of Vannes did not become incensed for so little, above all, when he had murmured to himself that to do so was dangerous. “Are you going to release Marchiali?” he said. “What mellow, fragrant and delicious sherry this is, my dear governor.”
“Monseigneur,” replied Baisemeaux, “I shall release the prisoner Marchiali when I have summoned the courier who brought the order, and above all, when, by interrogating him, I have satisfied myself.”
“The order is sealed, and the courier is ignorant of the contents. What do you want to satisfy yourself about?”