“Wretch that I am,” thought D’Artagnan; “true, you have been told, I suppose, that some one was to be arrested, and have come yourself, instead of sending an officer?” “I came because I had occasion to speak to you.” “You did not send to me?” “I waited until you were disengaged,” said Monsieur Baisemeaux, timidly. “I leave you, D’Artagnan,” said Athos. “Not before I have present Monsieur Baisemeaux de Montlezun, the governor of the Bastile.” Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other. “Surely you must know each other,” said D’Artagnan. “I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux,” said Athos. “You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king’s guardsman with whom we used formerly to have such delightful meetings in the cardinal’s time?” “Perfectly,” said Athos, taking leave of him with affability. “Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose _nom de guerre_ was Athos,” whispered D’Artagnan to Baisemeaux. “Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four.” “Precisely so. But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?” “If you please.” “In the first place, as for the orders--there are none. The king does not intend to arrest the person in question. “So much the worse,” said Baisemeaux with a sigh. “What do you mean by so much the worse?” exclaimed D’Artagnan, laughing. “No doubt of it,” returned the governor, “my prisoners are my income.” “I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light.” “And so there are no orders,” repeated Baisemeaux with a sigh. “What an admirable situation yours is, captain,” he continued, after a pause; “captain-lieutenant of the musketeers.” “Oh, it is good enough; but I don’t see why you should envy me; you, governor of the Bastile, the first castle in France.” “I am well aware of that,” said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful tone of voice. “You say that like a man confessing his sins. I would willingly exchange my profits for yours.” “Don’t speak of profits to me, if you wish to save me the bitterest anguish of mind.” “Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as if you were afraid of being arrested yourself, you whose business it is to arrest others?” “I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to us; it would be safer to confer more in private, if you would grant me such a favor.” “Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five and thirty years’ standing. Don’t assume such sanctified airs; make yourself quite comfortable; I don’t eat governors of the Bastile raw.” “Heaven be praised!” “Come into the courtyard with me; it’s a beautiful moonlit night; we will walk up and down, arm in arm, under the trees, while you tell me your pitiful tale.” He drew the doleful governor into the courtyard, took him by the arm as he had said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried: “Out with it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?” “It’s a long story.”