De Blenau, without much skill in reading the mind's construction by the face, easily divined what was passing in his companion's bosom; and perceiving him to be much in the situation of a lame dog, he resolved still to apply the lash a little, before he helped him over the stile. "Well, Sir Governor," continued he; "now we will suppose, as a mere hypothesis to reason upon, that, through this very liberty which your disinterested kindness has allowed me, I have received those communications from without, which it was the Cardinal's great object to prevent. How ought you to act under such circumstances? Ought you to go to the stern, unrelenting Richelieu, and say to him,--'May it please your Eminence, I have intentionally and wilfully broken through every order you gave me--I have taken the utmost pains that they should not be observed; and I have so far succeeded in thwarting your designs, that Monsieur de Blenau, from whom I have received one thousand crowns, and from whom I expect a thousand more the moment he is liberated--I say, that this good friend of mine, and your enemy, has gained all the information which you wished to prevent,'--This would be a pretty confession of faith!" De Blenau paused, and the Governor bit his lip; but after a moment, he looked the Count full in the face, and replied, "Perhaps it might be the best way." De Blenau, however, was not to be deceived; he saw terror in the deadly hue of the Governor's pale cheek, and the anxious rolling of his sunken eye, and he went on--"Perhaps it might be the best way--to have your head struck off without delay; for what would your confession avail the Cardinal now, after the mischief is done?--Would it not be better to say to yourself,--'Here is a young nobleman, whom I believe to be innocent--for whom I have a regard--whom I have served already, and who is both willing and able to reward any one who does serve him; and who, lastly, will never betray me, let happen what will. Under these circumstances, should I not be a fool of the first water, to inquire into a matter, the truth of which I am very unlikely to discover, and which, if I do, it will be my duty to disclose: whereas, standing as the affair does now, without my knowledge in the least, my ignorance makes my innocence, and I betray no one. Even supposing that the whole be found out, I am no worse than I was before, for the story can but be told at last; while, if the Count be liberated, which most likely he will, instead of losing my office, or my head, I shall gain a thousand crowns to indemnify me for all the trouble I have had, and shall ensure his friendship for life.' Now, Monsieur le Gouverneur, this is what you ought to say to yourself. In my opinion, the strength of argument is all on one side. Even if there were any thing to know, you would be a fool to investigate it, where you must of necessity be your own accuser; where all is to be lost, and nothing can be gained."