Then D'Argenson spoke again:
"Monsieur le Capitaine," he said, "your answers to my interrogatories appear to show that, by grave misfortune, you have been confused with another man. Such errors are always to be regretted; nay, more, when they have been made, it is always the custom of his Majesty--a most gracious sovereign!--to make atonement for them and to nobly recompense those who have been injured. I shall to-morrow take steps to ratify your statement: if I find it accurate, you may expect to go away from here in a very short time. His Majesty will sign your acquittance at once. You will be free."
"Sir," replied Bertie, "I might have been free two years and a half ago, might never have suffered this long misery--while much other misery might have also been spared to those whom I love and who love me--had this examination taken place when I was first brought here."
"Doubtless," D'Argenson replied coldly. "But the laws of France have their mode of procedure and cannot be altered for any case in particular. Monsieur le Capitaine, your examination is concluded," and turning to his brother judges, he said, as he rose:
"Mes frères, la séance est terminée."
Of what use was it, Bertie asked himself as he and De Chevagny were conducted back to the calotte, to rage or fret against this legal wall of adamant? As well hurl one's self against a rock and hope to make an impression on it. For a fault not his own, he had been forced to endure two years and more of miserable imprisonment, and now, by chance alone, he was likely to be set free.
Yet the very word "free" sent his blood dancing and tingling in his veins once more; it brought to him the happy hope of seeing his mother, his beloved Kate again. And when he saw her, there would be no further barrier between them; she, too, was free--free to become his wife. Then, at last, their long vexations would be over--at last--at last!
"Make yourselves as comfortable as you can, mes enfants," said Bluet to them when once more they were back in the calotte, "it will not be for long now. Meanwhile, to-morrow, I will see if I cannot snatch from that villainous cellarer a bottle of the best vin de Brecquiny wherewith to celebrate your sortie. And I--though I am but a poor drinker at best--will drink to your happy restoration to your friends and families."
As the turnkey had said, so it happened. From the next morning their meals were improved; the best wine was served to them; everything gave promise that their imprisonment was at an end. One morning--which was the third day from their examination by D'Argenson--Bluet, accompanied by another turnkey, came in, bearing a large basket, in which was a quantity of new linen, with some ruffles and lace for both of them. Then, next, the tailor was brought in to prepare a plain but serviceable suit for the marquis, and also to repair Bertie's clothes, his suit being, though much used, still wearable. And, to complete all, Bluet arrived on another morning with the necessary implements for cutting and trimming their hair and beards, which, with the exception of the attentions they had been able to render each other with a rusty pair of scissors they had discovered imbedded in the filth of the floor, had not been done at all since the younger prisoner had been there.
"Avec ça!" exclaimed their cheerful janitor, "messieurs will go forth into the world again as though to a fête or a wedding. Ma foi! Monsieur le Marquis, you look not fifty years of age. You will both do very well. Ah, but the brave day is at hand!"