Various little occurrences of the same kind took place from time to time, affording a momentary matter of interest in the midst of the dark sameness of the prison life. At one period, during the whole of several nights, the Count de Morseiul heard at intervals voices which seemed to be shouting through speaking trumpets. The place from which the sound proceeded varied constantly; and the young prisoner could only conclude that some friends of one of the sad inhabitants of the Bastille were prowling round it, endeavouring to communicate intelligence. He listened eagerly, in the supposition that those sounds might be addressed to him; but though from time to time he could catch a single word, such as "dead," "told," &c., he could make no continuous sense of what was said.
The first time this occurred was shortly after his examination before the commission, and it continued, for three or four nights, to be repeated at different hours; but still the sounds were too distant for him to ascertain the meaning of the speakers, and he was obliged to content himself with believing that this intelligence was not intended for himself, and hoping that it had been more distinct to the unfortunate person for whose ears it was designed.[[2]] After having listened during the whole of one night, and the words not being repeated, he determined to ask one of his fellow-prisoners, who had the liberty like himself of walking in the court, whether he had heard it, and had been able to make out what was said.
The personage whom he fixed upon in his own mind for that purpose was a tall, upright, elderly man, with a soldier-like air, and a good deal of frankness of manner, approaching, perhaps, to what is called bluffness, without being in the slightest degree rude or uncivil. He seemed to seek nobody, but to converse willingly with any one when he was sought--gave his opinion in few words, but distinctly, accurately, and positively--bore his imprisonment with perfect lightness and indifference--never referred in the slightest degree to the cause thereof or to his own history, though without appearing to avoid the subject at all--and, in short, impressed strongly on the minds of those who saw him, and were accustomed to judge of the world, that he was a frank, upright, straight-forward soldier, accustomed to various kinds of endurance, and bearing all with manly firmness and resolution.
He spoke French with great fluency and accuracy; but at times, in conversing with him, the Count de Morseiul had fancied he could remark a foreign accent, though very slight, and he was inclined to believe that the old officer was one of the Weimerians who had served so long in the pay of France. His countenance, indeed, was not like that of a German; there was more quickness and brightness of the eye, and the features were more elongated, and somewhat sharper than is common amongst the Teutonic races. But still a great part of the Weimerian troops had been levied on the borders of the Rhine, where the mixture of French and other blood often makes itself strongly to be remarked amongst the German population. His ordinary walk was from one corner of the court-yard to the opposite angle, which gave the utmost extent of space that could be had; and there the young Count, on descending the staircase, found him walking up and down with his usual quick pace and erect carriage. Though the old man neither paused nor noticed him further than by a passing "Good morning, Sir," the Count joined him, and at once spoke of the matter in question.
"Have you heard," he said, "during this last night or two, some people shouting, apparently through speaking trumpets, as if they wished to convey intelligence to one of us prisoners?"
"Once or twice very faintly," replied the other. "But I am on the opposite side of the prison to you, you know, and the sounds I heard seemed to come from your side, or, at all events, not further round than the Well Tower. Do you think they were addressed to you?"
"I think not," replied the Count; "and if they were, I certainly could make nothing of them. I looked out of my window to get a sight as far as possible of the speakers by the moonlight the other night, but I was not successful; for I can see, as I am placed, into the little Place St. Antoine, but no further. However, I tried to distinguish the voices, and certainly they were not those of any one I know."
"A speaking trumpet makes a great difference," replied his companion. "I should have liked to have heard them more distinctly."
"Do you think they were intended for you?" said the Count.
"Oh dear no," replied the other; "nobody can have any thing to tell me. If ever my liberty comes, it will come at once; and as to either trying me or punishing me in any other way than by imprisonment, that they dare not do."