"You mistake entirely, my dear Count," said Lafemas; "on my salvation, my only object is to serve you. You have already acknowledged that you have forwarded letters from the Queen,--why not now inform me to whom those letters were addressed? If those letters were not of a treasonable nature, why did she not send them by one of her own servants?" "When a Queen of France is not allowed the common attendants which a simple gentlewoman can command, she may often be glad to use the servants and services of her friends. My own retinue, Sir, trebles that which the Queen has ever possessed at St. Germain's. But, without going into these particulars, your question is at once replied to by reminding you, that I am her Majesty's Chamberlain, and therefore her servant." "Without there were something wrong, Monsieur de Blenau," said Lafemas, "you could have no objection to state whether you have or have not conveyed some letters from her Majesty to Don John of Austria, Don Francisco de Mello, or King Philip of Spain. It is very natural for a Queen to write to her near relations, surely!" "I have already said," replied De Blenau, "that I shall reply to no such questions, the object of which is alone to entangle me." "You know not what you are exposing yourself to," rejoined the Judge; "there are means within this prison which would easily compel an answer." "None," replied De Blenau, firmly. "My resolution is taken, and no power on earth can shake it." "Really, Monsieur de Blenau, it would hurt me to the heart to leave you to the dreadful fate which your mistaken determination is likely to call upon you. I could weep, truly I could weep, to think of what you are calling upon your own head;" and the Judge glanced his eye towards the machine, which we have already noticed, and from which the old man rose up, as if preparing for his task. "You mean the torture?" said De Blenau, looking at it without a change of countenance. "But let me tell you, Monsieur Lafemas, that you dare not order it to a man of my rank, without an express warrant for the purpose; and, even if you had such authority, not all the torture in the world would wring one word from me. Ask that instrument of tyranny, Sir," and he pointed to the Executioner,--"ask him how the noble Caply died; and so would De Blenau also." Lafemas looked at the Governor, and the Governor at the Executioner, and so round. One of the dreadful secrets of the Bastille had evidently escaped beyond those precincts to which they were fearfully confined; no one could divine how this had occurred, and each suspected the other. A temporary silence ensued, and then Lafemas proceeded: