"What do you mean? I do not understand." "I told you that M. d'Argenson gave hopes." "Enough, monsieur, I have nothing to confess." At this moment the major knocked at the door and exchanged some words with the governor. "Monsieur," said the latter, "Captain la Jonquiere wishes to see you once more." "And you refuse it?" said Gaston, with a slight ironical smile. "On the contrary, I grant it, in the hope that he will be more reasonable than you, and that he wishes to consult you as to making confessions." "If that be his intention, tell him I refuse to come." "I know nothing of it, monsieur; perhaps he only wishes once again to see his companion in misfortune." "In that case, monsieur, I consent." "Follow me, then." They found the captain lying on the bed with his clothes in rags. "I thought the almoner of the Bastille was with you?" said M. de Launay. "He was, but I sent him away." "Why so?" "Because I do not like Jesuits; do you think, morbleu, that I cannot die properly without a priest?" "To die properly, monsieur, is not to die bravely, but as a Christian." "If I had wanted a sermon, I would have kept the priest, but I wanted M. de Chanlay." "He is here, monsieur; I refuse nothing to those who have nothing to hope." "Ah! chevalier, are you there?" said La Jonquiere, turning round; "you are welcome." "Explain," said Gaston; "I see with sorrow that you refuse the consolations of religion." "You also! if you say another word, I declare I will turn Huguenot." "Pardon, captain, but I thought it my duty to advise you to do what I shall do myself." "I bear you no ill-will, chevalier; if I were a minister, I would proclaim religious liberty. Now, M. de Launay," continued he, "you understand that as the chevalier and I are about to undertake a long tete-à-tete journey, we have some things to talk over together first." "I will retire. Chevalier, you have an hour to remain here." "Thank you, monsieur," said Gaston. "Well?" said the captain, when they were alone. "Well," said Gaston, "you were right." "Yes; but I am exactly like the man who went round Jerusalem crying out 'Woe!' for seven days, and the eighth day a stone thrown from the walls struck him and killed him." "Yes, I know that we are to die together." "Which annoys you a little; does it not?" "Very much, for I had reason to cling to life." "Every one has." "But I above all." "Then I only know one way." "Make revelations! never." "No, but fly with me." "How! fly with you?" "Yes, I escape." "But do you know that our execution is fixed for to-morrow?" "Therefore I decamp to-night." "Escape, do you say?" "Certainly." "How? where?" "Open the window." "Well." "Shake the middle bar." "Great God!" "Does it resist?" "No, it yields!" "Very good, it has given me trouble enough, Heaven knows." "It seems like a dream." "Do you remember asking me if I did not make holes in anything, like all the others?" "Yes, but you replied--"