e."

"And I--I demand," added the bishop, fixing his piercing eyes
significantly upon the prisoner, "I demand which of the two is the
king--the one whom this miniature portrays, or whom the glass reflects?"

"The king, monsieur," sadly replied the young man, "is he who is on the
throne, who is not in prison; and who, on the other hand, can cause
others to be entombed there. Royalty is power; and you see well how
powerless I am."

"Monseigneur," answered Aramis, with a respect he had not yet
manifested, "the king, mark me, will, if you desire it, be he who,
quitting his dungeon, shall maintain himself upon the throne, on which
his friends will place him."

"Tempt me not, monsieur," broke in the prisoner, bitterly.

"Be not weak, monseigneur," persisted Aramis; "I have brought all the
proofs of your birth; consult them; satisfy yourself that you are a
king's son; and then let us act."

"No, no; it is impossible."

"Unless, indeed," resumed the bishop, ironically, "it be the destiny of
your race that the brothers excluded from the throne should be always
princes void of courage and honesty, as was your uncle, M. Gaston
d'Orleans, who ten times conspired against his brother, Louis XIII."

"What!" cried the prince, astonished, "my uncle Gaston 'conspired
against his brother;' conspired to dethrone him?"

"Exactly, monseigneur; for no other reason. I tell you the truth."

"And he had friends--devoted ones?"

"As much so as I am to you."

"And, after all, what did he do?--Failed!"

"He failed, I admit; but always through his own fault; and, for the sake
of purchasing--not his life--for the life of the king's brother is
sacred and inviolable--but his liberty, he sacrificed the lives of all
his friends one after another. And so, at this day, he is the very shame
of history, and the detestation of a hundred noble families in this
kingdom."

"I understand, monsieur; either by weakness or treachery, my uncle slew
his friends."

"By weakness; which, in princes, is always treachery."

"And cannot a man fail, then, from incapacity and ignorance? Do you
really believe it possible that a poor captive such as I, brought up,
not only at a distance from the court, but even from the world--do you
believe it possible that such a one could assist those of his friends
who should attempt to serve him?" And as Aramis was about to reply, the
young man suddenly cried out, with a violence which betrayed the temper
of his blood,