At bottom, M. de Rochefort was not a fool, and he recognized that whilst Life and Death are simply toys for a brave man to play with, imprisonment for life is a thing for the bravest man to dread. Vincennes was saving him from Choiseul, and as he stood at the window whistling a tune of the day, he followed Choiseul with his mind’s eye, Choiseul ransacking Paris, Choiseul posting spies on all the roads, Choiseul urging on the imperturbable and sphinx-like de Sartines, and Sartines receiving Choiseul’s messages without a smile. He was standing like this, when a voice made him start and turn round. “Monsieur de Rochefort,” said the voice, which sounded as though the speaker were in the same room as the prisoner. “_Mon Dieu_!” cried Rochefort. “Who is that speaking, and where are you?” “Here, Monsieur de Rochefort, in the next chamber to yours. I heard your voice and recognized it talking to that fat-headed Bonvallot, and I said there must be a hole in the wall somewhere to let a voice come through like that; so I searched for it and found it. The hole is under my bed. A large stone has been removed, evidently by some industrious rat of a prisoner, who never could complete his business. Search for the hole on your side, Monsieur de Rochefort.” Rochefort pulled his bed out from the wall, and there, surely enough, was a hole about a foot square in the wainscoting. He lay down on his face and tried to look through into the next chamber, but the wall was three feet thick and the head of his interlocutor on the other side blocked the light, so that he could see nothing. “Here is the hole,” said he, “but I can see nothing. Who are you?” “Who am I? Did you not recognize my voice? _Hé, pardieu_, I am Ferminard. Who else would I be?” “Ferminard! Just heaven! and what on earth are you doing here?” “Doing here? I am hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul. What else would I be doing here?” “Hiding from Choiseul! Explain yourself, Monsieur Ferminard.” “Well, Monsieur Rochefort, it was this way. After that confounded presentation, I had an interview with Monsieur Lavenne, one of Monsieur de Sartines’ agents, and as a result of that interview, I consented to place myself under the protection of Monsieur de Sartines for a short time. You can very well guess, monsieur, the reason why, especially as it was brought to my knowledge that Monsieur de Choiseul had wind of my hand in that affair, and was about to search for me.” “Oho!” said Rochefort. “That is why you are here.” “Yes, monsieur, and now in return for my confidence, may I ask why you are in the same position and under the same roof?” “Well, I am here for just the same reason, Monsieur Ferminard.” “You are hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul.” “Precisely.” “_Mordieu_, that is droll.” “You think so?” “It is more than droll. For, see here, Monsieur de Rochefort, we are two prisoners, we neither of us wish to escape, yet we have the means.” “Explain yourself.”