a purse filled with gold and handed it to him.
“Here is what you are looking for,” he said.
The duke opened the purse and wanted to empty it into Grimaud’s hands, but Grimaud shook his head.
“Thank you, monseigneur,” he said, drawing back; “I am paid.”
The duke went from one surprise to another. He held out his hand. Grimaud drew near and kissed it respectfully. The grand manner of Athos had left its mark on Grimaud.
“What shall we do? and when? and how proceed?”
“It is now eleven,” answered Grimaud. “Let my lord at two o’clock ask leave to make up a game at tennis with La Ramee and let him send two or three balls over the ramparts.”
“And then?”
“Your highness will approach the walls and call out to a man who works in the moat to send them back again.”
“I understand,” said the duke.
Grimaud made a sign that he was going away.
“Ah!” cried the duke, “will you not accept any money from me?”
“I wish my lord would make me one promise.”
“What! speak!”
“‘Tis this: when we escape together, that I shall go everywhere and be always first; for if my lord should be overtaken and caught, there’s every chance of his being brought back to prison, whereas if I am caught the least that can befall me is to be-hung.”
“True, on my honor as a gentleman it shall be as thou dost suggest.”
“Now,” resumed Grimaud, “I’ve only one thing more to ask-that your highness will continue to detest me.”
“I’ll try,” said the duke.
At this moment La Ramee, after the interview we have described with the cardinal, entered the room. The duke had thrown himself, as he was wont to do in moments of dullness and vexation, on his bed. La Ramee cast an inquiring look around him and observing the same signs of antipathy between the prisoner and his guardian he smiled in token of his inward satisfaction. Then turning to Grimaud:
“Very good, my friend, very good. You have been spoken of in a promising quarter and you will soon, I hope, have news that will be agreeable to you.”
Grimaud saluted in his politest manner and withdrew, as was his custom on the entrance of his superior.
“Well, my lord,” said La Ramee, with his rude laugh, “you still set yourself against this poor fellow?”
“So! ‘tis you, La Ramee; in faith, ‘tis time you came back again. I threw myself on the bed and turned my nose to the wall, that I mightn’t break my promise and strangle Grimaud.”
“I doubt, however,” said La Ramee, in sprightly allusion to the silence of his subordinate, “if he has said anything disagreeable to your highness.”
“Pardieu! you are right-a mute from the East! I swear it was time for you to come back, La Ramee, and I was eager to see you again.”
“Monseigneur is too good,” said La Ramee, flattered by the compliment.
“Yes,” continued the duke, “really, I feel bored today beyond the power of description.”
“Then let us have a match in the tennis court,” exclaimed La Ramee.
“If you wish it.”
“I am at your service, my lord.”
“I protest, my dear La Ramee,” said the duke, “that you are a charming fellow and that I would stay forever at Vincennes to have the pleasure of your society.”
“My lord,” replied La Ramee, “I think if it depended on the cardinal your wishes would be fulfilled.”
“What do you mean? Have you seen him lately?”
“He sent for me to-day.”
“Really! to speak to you about me?”
“Of what else do you imagine he would speak to me? Really, my lord, you are his nightmare.”
The duke smiled with bitterness.
“Ah, La Ramee! if you would but accept my offers! I would make your fortune.”
“How? you would no sooner have left prison than your goods would be confiscated.”
“I shall no sooner be out of prison than I shall be master of Paris.”
“Pshaw! pshaw! I cannot hear such things said as that; this is a fine conversation with an officer of the king! I see, my lord, I shall be obliged to fetch a second Grimaud!”
“Very well, let us say no more about it. So you and the cardinal have been talking about me? La Ramee, some day when he sends for you, you must let me put on your clothes; I will go in your stead; I will strangle him, and upon my honor, if that is made a condition I will return to prison.”
“Monseigneur, I see well that I must call Grimaud.”
“Well, I am wrong. And what did the cuistre [pettifogger] say about me?”
“I admit the word, monseigneur, because it rhymes with ministre [minister]. What did he say to me? He told me to watch you.”
“And why so? why watch me?” asked the duke uneasily.
“Because an astrologer had predicted that you would escape.”
“Ah! an astrologer predicted that?” said the duke, starting in spite of himself.
“Oh, mon Dieu! yes! those imbeciles of magicians can only imagine things to torment honest people.”
“And what did you reply to his most illustrious eminence?”
“That if the astrologer in question made almanacs I would advise him not to buy one.”
“Why not?”
“Because before you could escape you would have to be turned into a bird.”
“Unfortunately, that is true. Let us go and have a game at tennis, La Ramee.”
“My lord-I beg your highness’s pardon-but I must beg for half an hour’s leave of absence.”
“Why?”
“Because Monseigneur Mazarin is a prouder man than his highness, though not of such high birth: he forgot to ask me to breakfast.”
“Well, shall I send for some breakfast here?”
“No, my lord; I must tell you that the confectioner who lived opposite the castle-Daddy Marteau, as they called him-”
“Well?”
“Well, he sold his business a week ago to a confectioner from Paris, an
