With such brief thought, however, he dismissed the subject from his mind, and turned once more to the writing. By this time it had nearly vanished; but being again exposed to the fire it re-appeared, though more faintly than before. Fearful of interruption, the Count turned to the last lines which he had not read. They seemed to him, as far as he could judge, to be written in the hand of the Chevalier d'Evran, whom, to say sooth, in the joys and fears and agitations of the few preceding days, he had nearly forgotten.
"I have just returned to Paris, dear Albert," it said, "having gone down to Poitou to secure evidence, which they would never have suffered to transpire, if some friend of yours had not been upon the spot. I have secured it. Fear not, therefore, for I and your belle Clémence are labouring together to set you free."
Oh, human nature, strange and extraordinary state of existence, how many contradictions dost thou contain! Although filled with such good hopes, although containing such proofs of friendship, although conveying such important intelligence, the lines written by the Chevalier d'Evran were not altogether pleasing to the Count de Morseiul, and he felt sensations that he was angry with himself for feeling, but which all his schooling of his own heart could scarcely banish.
"I shall hate myself," he continued, "if I feel thus. Must there ever be some counterbalancing thing in life and in feeling, to poize the bad against the good, and to make us less happy, less wise, less generous than we otherwise might be? Here new sensations have sprung up in my bosom, of a deeper and a finer kind than I ever knew before; and must there come some petty jealousy, some small, low, mean want of confidence, even in those I esteem and love to debase me as much as those other feelings might elevate me? I will think of such things no more; and will only think of Louis with gratitude and affection."
Thus saying, or rather thus thinking, he re-read the lines that had been written by Clémence, and found therein a balm and a consolation which healed all the evil of the other. Having done so, his next care was to efface the writing; but that he found by no means difficult, damping the handkerchief in the cruise of water which had been left for him, and which, in a few minutes, left not a vestige of the lines which had been traced for his eye alone. He sat up for some time after this examination, soothed and calmed by the tidings he had received, and certainly far more tranquil in every respect than during the first few hours of his confinement.
The waning of the lights, however, which had been given to him, warned him, at length, that it was time to retire to rest, and after some brief prayers to the Almighty for guidance, protection, and deliverance, he undressed himself, extinguished the lights, and lay down to seek repose; but it was in vain that he did so, for as he lay on the small prison bed which was allotted to him, and gazed round upon the massy walls of the chamber in which he was confined, with the flickering light of the half-extinguished fire flashing from time to time on all the various objects round about, the sensation of imprisonment, of the utter loss of liberty, of being cut off from all correspondence or communication with his fellow-men, of being in the power and at the mercy of others, without any appeal against their will, or any means of deliverance from their hands, came upon him more strongly, more forcibly than ever, and made a heart, not easily bent or affected by any apprehensions, sink with a cold feeling of deep and utter despondency.
Thus passed several hours till, at length, weariness overcame thought, and he obtained sleep towards the morning. He was awakened by the entrance of one of the turnkeys, accompanied by the major of the Bastille; but the tidings which the latter officer brought to the Count de Morseiul were by no means pleasant, or calculated to confirm the hopes that the words of Clémence and the Chevalier d'Evran had held out to him.
"I am sorry to tell you, Monsieur de Morseiul," he said, "that the governor last night received orders from Monsieur de Louvois to place you in stricter confinement, and he is, therefore, obliged to say that you can no longer be permitted to quit your chamber. Any thing that can be done, consistent with his duty, to render your confinement less painful to you, shall be done, depend upon it."
The officer was then bowing, as if to retire; but the Count stopped him by asking, "Is there any objection to my inquiring, Sir, whether there is a cause assigned for this new order?"
"In regard to that I am as ignorant as yourself," replied the major. "All I can tell is, that the order was brought by Monsieur de Brissac at the same time that he conveyed hither the Chevalier de Rohan," and, without waiting for any further questions, he quitted the room in haste; and the turnkey, having brought the Count his breakfast, and, as far as possible, arranged the room with some degree of neatness, followed the major and locked the door.