And at last it came. One evening, a week now after the judge had pronounced that the Marquis de Chevagny might go back to life, and had said that the Captain Elphinston might cherish hopes of doing so, the King's Lieutenant again made his appearance in the calotte, unaccompanied this time by anyone but Bluet, for the purpose of unbarring the doors.
"Messieurs," he said, "have the goodness to accompany me to the Salle de Justice. The commissary attends you to hand to you your permission de sortie. You will depart to-morrow, if it so pleases you."
Rising, they followed him through all the passages and courts as before, and arrived at the great hall. Here they observed that the judges were not again present, but in their place, and seated at the scarlet-draped table of the judges' registrar was the commissary, a little, old, wizened man, who bowed to them as they entered.
"Be seated, I beg," he said, motioning them to two chairs placed in front of him--two fauteuils very different in appearance and comfort from the stools that had previously been accorded them; and when they had done so, he instantly read from two papers before him:
"Réné Xavier Ru de Chevagny, Marquis de Chevagny," he began; "his Majesty, King Louis XV, graciously accords you this his permission to depart out of this fortress, the Bastille, from this present moment. This permission I now hand to you as a certificate of his Majesty's gracious goodness." Here he held the paper out over the table to the old man, who took it from him without uttering one word. Then the commissary continued: "And in consideration of your having been unable to attend to your own interests, properties, and estates of late, his Majesty ordains that you may draw upon the captain of this his fortress, Monsieur Jourdan de Launey, for a sum not exceeding fifty Louis d'ors, for your present expenses, to be by you recouped later on."
"I--I want nothing," De Chevagny began, when, as he did so, his eye fell upon Bluet standing near and behind the King's Lieutenant, and remembering all the fellow's kindness to him--kindness which he had never been under any obligation to show he ceased what he was saying; while the commissary continued:
"From this moment you are at liberty to depart. Monsieur le Marquis you will consult your own pleasure as to when you do so."
Then turning to Bertie and addressing him, he again read out the rigmarole about "his Majesty's gracious goodness," and handed to him his certificate of freedom. And also he informed him that he, too, could draw on De Launey for fifty Louis d'ors, to be recorded later on.
"If, monsieur," Bertie exclaimed, however, at this, "I draw them, I know not how they are ever to be refunded. I was an officer in the French King's army when I was brought here. I can scarcely suppose I am one now. When I quit this prison I am as like as not to be a beggar in the streets. This incarceration has stolen my life from me for two years; now I am free, its effect will be to deprive me of the means whereby to live in the future."
"Monsieur le Capitaine, I think not. I am authorized to tell you that a commission in his Majesty's service will still be provided for you, in consequence of your residence here being due to a slight mistake."