"I am a soldier, and a soldier's orders must be obeyed," the officer went on to explain, evidently not caring to offend the general's nephew. "Without the written order I could not admit your brother of Guise. But now you can have all the conversation you desire with M. de Mar."
Lucas's face did not change, save to scowl at the very name of his brother Guise. He said curtly, "No, I must get back to his Grace," and, barely bowing, went from the room.
"Now, I don't make that out," the keeper muttered in his beard. That Lucas should be in one moment cured of his urgent need of seeing the Comte de Mar was too much for him, but no riddle to me. I knew he had come to stab M. Étienne in his cell. It was his last chance, and he had missed it. I feared him no longer, for I believed in Mayenne's faith. My master once released, Lucas could not hurt him.
What was as much to the point, the officer had no doubt of Mayenne's good faith. He went with his paper into an inner room, where we caught sight, through the door, of big books with a clerk or two behind them, and in a moment appeared again with a key.
"Since the young gentleman's a count, I'll do turnkey's office myself," he said, his grim old battlement of a face smiling.
This was our day; from Mayenne down, everybody went out of his way to pleasure us. I was suddenly emboldened by his manner.
"Monsieur, perhaps it is preposterous to ask, but might I go with you?"
He looked at me a moment, surprised.
"Well, after all, why not? You too, Sir Musketeer, an you like."
So the three of us, he and d'Auvray and I, went to rescue the Comte de Mar.