"I give you ten minutes to make up your mind," added Fouquet, in a calm
voice. "I will sit down here in this armchair and wait for you; if, in
ten minutes' time, you still persist, I leave this place, and you may
think me as mad as you like; but you will see!"

Baisemeaux stamped his foot on the ground like a man in a state of
despair, but he did not reply a single syllable: whereupon Fouquet
seized a pen and ink, and wrote:

"Order for M. le Prevot des Marchands to assemble the municipal guard
and to march upon the Bastille for the king's service."

Baisemeaux shrugged his shoulders. Fouquet wrote:

"Order for the Duc de Bouillon and M. le Prince de Conde to assume the
command of the Swiss guards, of the king's guards, and to march upon the
Bastille for the king's service."

Baisemeaux reflected. Fouquet still wrote:

"Order for every soldier, citizen, or gentleman to seize and apprehend,
wherever he may be found, le Chevalier d'Herblay, Eveque de Vannes, and
his accomplices, who are: 1st, M. de Baisemeaux, governor of the
Bastille, suspected of the crimes of high treason and rebellion--"

"Stop, monseigneur!" cried Baisemeaux; "I do not understand a single
thing of the whole matter; but so many misfortunes, even were it madness
itself that had set them at work, might happen here in a couple of
hours, that the king, by whom I shall be judged, will see whether I have
been wrong in withdrawing the countersign before so many imminent
catastrophes. Come with me to the keep, monseigneur; you shall see
Marchiali."

Fouquet darted out of the room, followed by Baisemeaux as he wiped the
perspiration from his face. "What a terrible morning!" he said; "what a
disgrace!"

"Walk faster," replied Fouquet.

Baisemeaux made a sign to the jailer to precede them. He was afraid of
his companion, which the latter could not fail to perceive.

"A truce to this child's play," he said, roughly. "Let the man remain
here, take the keys yourself, and show me the way. Not a single person,
do you understand, must hear what is going to take place here."

"Ah!" said Baisemeaux, undecided.

"Again," cried Fouquet. "Ah! say 'no' at once, and I will leave the
Bastille and will myself carry my own dispatches."

Baisemeaux bowed his head, took the keys, and unaccompanied, except by
the minister, ascended the staircase. The higher they advanced up the
spiral staircase, certain smothered murmurs became distinct cries and
fearful imprec