Baisemeaux handed him some paper.

"Now, I--I, also--I, here present--incontestably, I--am going to write
an order to which I am certain you will give credence, incredulous as
you are!"

Baisemeaux turned pale at this icy assurance of manner. It seemed to
him that the voice of the bishop's, but just now so playful and gay, had
become funereal and sad; that the wax lights changed into the tapers of
a mortuary chapel, the very glasses of wine into chalices of blood.

Aramis took a pen and wrote. Baisemeaux, in terror, read over his
shoulder.

"A. M. D. G.," wrote the bishop; and he drew a cross under these four
letters, which signify _ad majorem Dei gloriam_, "to the greater glory
of God;" and thus he continued: "It is our pleasure that the order
brought to M. de Baisemeaux de Montlezun, governor, for the king, of
the castle of the Bastile, be held by him good and effectual, and be
immediately carried into operation."

(Signed) D'HERBLAY

"General of the Order, by the grace of God."

Baisemeaux was so profoundly astonished, that his features remained
contracted, his lips parted, and his eyes fixed. He did not move an
inch, nor articulate a sound. Nothing could be heard in that large
chamber but the wing-whisper of a little moth, which was fluttering to
its death about the candles. Aramis, without even deigning to look at
the man whom he had reduced to so miserable a condition, drew from his
pocket a small case of black wax; he sealed the letter, and stamped it
with a seal suspended at his breast, beneath his doublet, and when the
operation was concluded, presented--still in silence--the missive to M.
de Baisemeaux. The latter, whose hands trembled in a manner to excite
pity, turned a dull and meaningless gaze upon the letter. A last gleam
of feeling played over his features, and he fell, as if thunder-struck,
on a chair.

"Come, come," said Aramis, after a long silence, during which the
governor of the Bastile had slowly recovered his senses, "do not lead
me to believe, dear Baisemeaux, that the presence of the general of the
order is as terrible as His, and that men die merely from having seen
Him. Take courage, rouse yourself; give me your hand--obey."

Baisemeaux, reassured, if not satisfied, obeyed, kissed Aramis's hand,
and rose. "Immediately?" he murmured.

"Oh, there is no pressing haste, my host; take your place again, and do
the honors over this beautiful dessert."

"Monseigneur, I shall never re