This roof, the apartment having been originally intended for the chapel, would have afforded a relief to the dullness of the rest by its beautiful proportions, and the highly finished tracery with which it was adorned, had the eye been able to reach it; but the rays, which from the causes above mentioned were barely enough to illuminate the lower part of the hall, were lost before they could attain its height, leaving it in that profound obscurity, which cast a double gloom upon the space below.
The pavement of this melancholy hall was damp and decayed, many of the stones having strayed from their bed of mortar, and become vagrant about the apartment; and the furniture, if it might be so called, far from filling it, served only to show its size and emptiness. At the farther extremity was a long table, at the end of which, in a chair somewhat elevated, sat the Judge Lafemas, with a Clerk at a desk below him, and two or three Exempts standing round about.
Near the end next De Blenau was another chair, which he conceived to be placed for his use; while between two of the pillars, sitting on a curious machine, the use of which De Blenau at once suspected, appeared an ill-favoured muscular old man, whose lowering brow and doggedness of aspect seemed to speak of many a ruthless deed.
As the Count entered, the door closed after him with a loud clang; and advancing to the table, he took his seat in the vacant chair, while the Governor placed himself at a little distance between him and the Judge.
“Well, Monsieur de Blenau,” said Lafemas in that sweet mild tone which he always assumed when not irritated by the taunts of Chavigni, “This is the last place where I could have wished to meet a nobleman whose general character has always engaged my most affectionate esteem.”
De Blenau knew Lafemas to be one of the meanest and most viperous of the Cardinal’s tools, and not feeling much moved to exchange courtesies with him, he merely acknowledged the Judge’s salutation by a silent bow, while the other proceeded: “I have requested the pleasure of your society for a space, in order to ask you a few questions; your reply to which will, doubtless, soon procure your liberation from this unpleasant place.”
“I trust so, Sir,” replied the Count, “as the detention of an innocent person must occasion fully as much discredit to his Majesty’s Government, as it does inconvenience to the person himself.”
“You are quite right, you are quite right,” rejoined the sweet-tongued Judge. “Indeed, my very object in coming is to obtain such answers from you as will convince the Cardinal de Richelieu, who, though a profound minister, is somewhat suspicious withal,—to convince him, I say, that you are innocent; of which, on my conscience, and as I believe in the Saviour, I have no doubt myself.—In the first place, then,” he continued, “tell me as a friend, have you any acquaintance in Brussels?”
“I have!” replied De Blenau decidedly.
“That is honourable,—that is candid,” said the Judge. “I told you, Monsieur le Gouverneur, that we should have no difficulty, and that Monsieur de Blenau would enable me easily to establish his innocence.—Pray do you correspond with these friends,” he continued, “and by what means?”