Page:The Man in the Iron Mask.djvu/84

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
70
THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK

cannot but admire you. It is true that a subaltern owes respect to his superiors; he is guilty when he deceives himself, and he should be punished if he infringe either the duties or laws of his office."

Baisemeaux looked at the bishop with astonishment.

"It follows," pursued Aramis, "that you are going to ask advice, to put your conscience at ease in the matter?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"And if a superior officer gives you orders, you will obey?"

"Never doubt it, monseigneur."

"You know the king's signature well. Monsieur de Baisemeaux?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"Is it not on this order of release?"

"It is true, but it may———"

"Be forged, you mean?"

"That is evident, monseigneur."

"You are right. And that of Monsieur de Lyonne?"

"I see it plain enough on the order; but for the same reason that the king's signature may have been forged, so also, even more likely, may Monsieur de Lyonne's."

"Your logic has the stride of a giant. Monsieur de Baisemeaux," said Aramis; "and your reasoning is irresistible. But on what special grounds do you base your idea that these signatures are false?"

"On this: the absence of counter-signatures. Nothing checks his majesty's signature; and Monsieur de Lyonne is not there to tell me he has signed."

"Well, Monsieur de Baisemeaux," said Aramis, bending an eagle glance on the governor, "I adopt so frankly your doubts, and your mode of clearing them up, that I will take a pen if you will give me one."

Baisemeaux gave him a pen.

"And a sheet of white paper," added Aramis.

Baisemeaux handed some paper.

"Now, I—I, also—I, here present—incontestably, I—am going to write an order to which I am certain you will give credence, incredulous as you are."

Baisemeaux turned pale at this icy assurance of manner. It seemed to him that that voice of the bishop's, but just now so playful and so gay, had become funereal and sad; that the wax-lights changed into the tapers of a mortuary chapel, and the glasses of wine into chalices of blood.

Aramis took a pen, and wrote. Baisemeaux, in terror, read over his shoulder.