“Well, La Ramee, who is a gourmand, sees his pâtés, thinks them more attractive than those of Père Marteau and proposes to me that I shall try them. I consent on condition that La Ramee tries them with me. That we may be more at our ease, La Ramee removes the guards, keeping only Grimaud to wait on us. Grimaud is the man whom a friend has sent to second me in everything. The moment for my escape is fixed—seven o’clock. Well, at a few minutes to seven——” “At a few minutes to seven?” cried La Ramee, cold sweat upon his brow. “At a few minutes to seven,” returned the duke (suiting the action to the words), “I raise the crust of the pie; I find in it two poniards, a ladder of rope, and a gag. I point one of the poniards at La Ramee’s breast and I say to him, ‘My friend, I am sorry for it, but if thou stirrest, if thou utterest one cry, thou art a dead man!’” The duke, in pronouncing these words, suited, as we have said, the action to the words. He was standing near the officer and he directed the point of the poniard in such a manner, close to La Ramee’s heart, that there could be no doubt in the mind of that individual as to his determination. Meanwhile, Grimaud, still mute as ever, drew from the pie the other poniard, the rope ladder and the gag. La Ramee followed all these objects with his eyes, his alarm every moment increasing. “Oh, my lord,” he cried, with an expression of stupefaction in his face; “you haven’t the heart to kill me!” “No; not if thou dost not oppose my flight.” “But, my lord, if I allow you to escape I am a ruined man.” “I will compensate thee for the loss of thy place.” “You are determined to leave the château?” “By Heaven and earth! This night I am determined to be free.” “And if I defend myself, or call, or cry out?” “I will kill thee, on the honor of a gentleman.” At this moment the clock struck. “Seven o’clock!” said Grimaud, who had not spoken a word. La Ramee made one movement, in order to satisfy his conscience. The duke frowned, the officer felt the point of the poniard, which, having penetrated through his clothes, was close to his heart. “Let us dispatch,” said the duke. “My lord, one last favor.” “What? speak, make haste.” “Bind my arms, my lord, fast.” “Why bind thee?” “That I may not be considered as your accomplice.” “Your hands?” asked Grimaud. “Not before me, behind me.” “But with what?” asked the duke. “With your belt, my lord!” replied La Ramee. The duke undid his belt and gave it to Grimaud, who tied La Ramee in such a way as to satisfy him. “Your feet, too,” said Grimaud. La Ramee stretched out his legs, Grimaud took a table-cloth, tore it into strips and tied La Ramee’s feet together. “Now, my lord,” said the poor man, “let me have the _poire d’angoisse_. I ask for it; without it I should be tried in a court of justice because I did not raise the alarm. Thrust it into my mouth, my lord, thrust it in.”