hich for him was easy enough, and waited with his back
turned towards the window, in order, to some extent, to conceal his
agitation from the eyes of the person who was about to enter. It was
only a jailer with a basket of provisions. The king looked at the man
with restless anxiety, and waited until he spoke.

"Ah!" said the latter, "you have broken your chair. I said you had done
so! Why, you have gone quite mad."

"Monsieur," said the king, "be careful what you say; it will be a very
serious affair for you."

The jailer placed the basket on the table, and looked at his prisoner
steadily. "What do you say?" he said.

"Desire the governor to come to me," added the king, in accents full of
calm and dignity.

"Come, my boy," said the turnkey, "you have always been very quiet and
reasonable, but you are getting vicious, it seems, and I wish you
to know it in time. You have broken your chair, and made a great
disturbance; that is an offense punishable by imprisonment in one of the
lower dungeons. Promise me not to begin over again, and I will not say a
word about it to the governor."

"I wish to see the governor," replied the king, still governing his
passions.

"He will send you off to one of the dungeons, I tell you; so take care."

"I insist upon it, do you hear?"

"Ah! ah! your eyes are becoming wild again. Very good! I shall take away
your knife."

And the jailer did what he said, quitted the prisoner, and closed the
door, leaving the king more astounded, more wretched, more isolated than
ever. It was useless, though he tried it, to make the same noise again
on his door, and equally useless that he threw the plates and dishes out
of the window; not a single sound was heard in recognition. Two hours
afterwards he could not be recognized as a king, a gentleman, a man, a
human being; he might rather be called a madman, tearing the door with
his nails, trying to tear up the flooring of his cell, and uttering such
wild and fearful cries that the old Bastile seemed to tremble to its
very foundations for having revolted against its master. As for the
governor, the jailer did not even think of disturbing him; the turnkeys
and the sentinels had reported the occurrence to him, but what was the
good of it? Were not these madmen common enough in such a prison?
and were not the walls still stronger? M. de Baisemeaux, thoroughly
impressed with what Aramis had told him, and in perfect conformity with
the king's order, h