"Excellent news for him whom it concerns, you will, at least, agree, my dear governor."
"And at eight o'clock in the evening!"
"It is charitable."
"Oh! charity is all very well, but it is for that fellow who says he is so weary and tired, but not for me who am amusing myself," said Baisemeaux, exasperated.
"Will you lose by him, then? And is the prisoner who is to be set at liberty a high payer?"
"Oh, yes, indeed; a miserable, five-franc rat!"
"Let me see it," asked M. d'Herblay. "It is no indiscretion?"
"By no means; read it."
"There is 'Urgent' on the paper; you have seen that, I suppose?"
"Oh, admirable! 'Urgent!'—a man who has been here ten years! It is urgent to set him free to-day, this very evening, at eight o'clock!—urgent!" And Baisemeaux, shrugging his shoulders with an air of supreme disdain, flung the order on the table, and began eating again. "They are fond of these dodges!" he said, with his mouth full; "they seize a man some fine day, maintain him for ten years, and write to you, 'Watch this fellow well,' or, 'Keep him very strictly.' And then, as soon as you are accustomed to look upon the prisoner as a dangerous man, all of a sudden, without cause or precedent, they write, 'Set him at liberty;' and actually add to their missive, 'urgent.' You will own, my lord, 'tis enough to make any one shrug his shoulders!"
"What do you expect? It is they who write," said Aramis, "and it is for you to execute the order."
"Good! good! execute it! Oh, patience! You must not imagine that I am a slave."
"Gracious Heaven! my very good Monsieur Baisemeaux, who ever said so? Your independence is known."
"Thank Heaven!"
"But your good heart also is known."
"Ah! don't speak of it."
"And your obedience to your superiors. Once a soldier, you see, Baisemeaux, always a soldier."
"And so I shall strictly obey; and to-morrow morning, at daybreak, the prisoner referred to shall be set free."
"To-morrow?"
"At dawn."
"Why not this evening, seeing that the lettre de cachet bears, both on the direction and inside, 'urgent'?"
