Rochefort got out and, following Captain Roux and being followed in turn by a soldier, passed through the doorway down a corridor to the reception-room. This was a bleak and formal place, the old guard-room of the fortress, where the stands for pikes still remained and the slings for arquebuses; but of pikes and pikemen, arquebuses or arbalètes, nothing now remained, their places being taken by desks, books and manuscripts, and a clerk dry as parchment, who was seated behind one of the desks, and who, having entered all particulars in a book, handed Captain Roux a receipt for Monsieur de Rochefort, as though that gentleman had been a bundle of goods.
Roux, having put the receipt in his belt, turned on his heel and, without a word, left the room. Rochefort, left alone with the clerk and the soldier, turned to the clerk.
“Well, monsieur,” said Rochefort, “it seems to me that Monsieur le Capitaine Roux has left his good manners with his tongue at the Hôtel de Sartines; and he is in such a hurry back to find them that he has forgotten to introduce us properly. I do not even know your name.”
The clerk wrote something on a piece of paper, and handed it to the soldier.
“Come, monsieur,” said the soldier, touching Rochefort on the arm.
“Monsieur,” said Rochefort, still addressing the clerk, “there is a mistake somewhere.”
“In what way?”
“In this way, monsieur. When I consented to come here as the guest of Monsieur de Sartines, I did so on the understanding that I was to be treated as a gentleman. I demand to see Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor of Vincennes.”
“He is absent.”
“When does he return?”