"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed De Launey, while he shook terribly, "do my infirmities render me unintelligible? Ay, the second chamber; and for you, if ever you misunderstand me again, the vault under the ditch where the malefactors lie!" Then, putting out his long, white, trembling hand--while all the time he smiled blandly--he nipped the man's arm between two fingers and repeated, "Where the malefactors lie! Where the man was eaten alive by rats! _Tu comprends, cher ami?_ Go. The second chamber in the chapel for Monsieur le Capitaine. _Va!_" The man left the room quickly, casting a glance, half of terror and half of hate, on De Launey, who, after regarding him till he was gone, turned round to Elphinston with his pleasant smile, and said, "A vile wretch that. Yet a useful one, and bound to me by the deepest ties of gratitude. Sent here by the Jesuits some years ago. Ha! ha! The holy fathers know how to obtain the lettres de cachet! for an unspeakable crime--the corruption of a nun to Protestantism, saved his life by telling them that he was the man who had been eaten by the rats, though 'twas another. Thus I bound him to me for ever. He writes a most beautiful hand, knows the history of every man in the Bastille, and--ha! ha!--draws no recompense. The Inquisition injured my family once--they burnt an aunt of mine in Seville--therefore I love to thwart them." Bertie inclined his head to show that he heard the Governor's words; then the latter continued in his mellifluous strains: "Now, Captain Elphinston, I must tell you that you should try and make yourself as comfortable as possible here. Above all, do not dream of an escape. Many have done so; few have succeeded--the Abbé du Bacquoy alone of late years.[7] For the walls are thick--oh, so thick!--between each room there is a space of many feet--the windows are barred; so, too, are the fireplaces; the ceilings cannot be reached by two men standing one on the other's shoulders. Moreover, a visitor seen outside his window, or on the roofs or walls, could not escape the eyes of the sentries, and would be shot--poof!--like a sparrow. Monsieur, let me beg you, therefore, to content yourself with our hospitality. Later on--if you are not recalled--we will perhaps give you some companions; we wish our guests to have the enjoyment of society. Monsieur le Capitaine, here is Bluet, who will conduct you to your apartment. _Au revoir_. I trust sincerely you will be at your ease." Again the ice-cold, shivering hand clasped that of Elphinston, De Launey bowed to him with as much grace as though he were taking part in a minuet, and, following the turnkey, who had come in with the secretary, the prisoner went forth to his chamber.