"I am he."
The jailer drew nearer to him.
"You were the governor of a fortress?" he inquired.
"Yes."
"But so was I governor of a fortress; I, too, have borne the name of
Canolles," said Cauvignac. "Come, explain yourself, and let there be no
mistake. Mischief enough has come out of my transactions with regard to
poor Richon, without my being the cause of another man's death."
"So your name is Canolles now?" said the jailer to Canolles.
"Yes."
"And your name was formerly Canolles?" he said to Cauvignac.
"Yes," was the reply, "for a single day, and I begin to think that I
made a great fool of myself that day."
"You were both governors of fortresses?"
"Yes," they replied, in the same breath.
"Now for one more question, which will clear up the whole matter."
The two prisoners waited in absolute silence.
"Which of you," said the jailer, "is the brother of Madame Nanon de
Lartigues?"
Cauvignac made a grimace which would have been comical at a less solemn
moment.
"Did I not tell you," he said to Canolles, "did I not tell you, my
dear fellow, that that was where they would attack me? If I should
tell you," he added, turning to the jailer, "that I am Madame Nanon de
Lartigues' brother, what would you say to me, my friend?"
"I should tell you to follow me instantly."
"Damnation!" ejaculated Cauvignac.
"But she has also called me her brother," said Canolles, trying in some
degree to avert the storm that was evidently gathering over the head of
his unfortunate companion.
"One moment, one moment," said Cauvignac, passing in front of the
jailer, and taking Canolles aside; "one moment, my young friend; it
isn't fair that you should be Nanon's brother under such circumstances.
I have made others pay my debts enough, and it's no more than fair that
I should take my turn at paying them."
"What do you mean?" demanded Canolles.
"Oh! it would take too long to tell you, and you see our jailer is
losing patience, and tapping his foot on the floor. It's all right,
my friend, all right; never fear, I will go with you. Adieu, my dear
fellow; my doubts are set at rest on one point at least, for I know
that I am to go first. God grant that you do not follow me too quickly.
Now it remains to know what sort of death it is to be. The devil! if
only it isn't hanging! Oh! I am coming, _pardieu!_ I am coming. You 're
in a terrible hurry, my good man. Well then, my dear brother, my dear
brother-in-law, my dear friend,--a last adieu, and good-night!"
With that Cauvignac stepped toward Canolles and held out his hand,
which Canolles grasped in both of his own and pressed affectionately.
Meanwhile Cauvignac was looking at him with a strange expression.
"What do you want?" said Canolles; "have you any request to make?"
"Yes."
"Then make it boldly."
"Do you sometimes pray?
"Yes."
"Well, then, when you pray, say a word for me." He turned to the
jailer, whose impatience was visibly increasing.
"I am Madame Nanon de Lartigues' brother," said he; "come, my friend--"
The jailer did not wait for him to say it a second time, but hastily
left the room, followed by Cauvignac, who waved a last farewell to
Canolles from the threshold.
The door closed behind them, their steps receded rapidly, and
everything relapsed into absolute silence, which seemed to him who was
left behind like the silence of death.
Canolles fell into a melancholy frame of mind, which resembled terror.
This fashion of spiriting a man away by night, without commotion,
without guards, was more alarming than the preparations for the
infliction of the death penalty when made in broad daylight. All his
fear, however, was on his companion's behalf, for his confidence
in Madame de Cambes was so great that since he had seen her he was
absolutely without fear for himself, notwithstanding the alarming
nature of the news she brought.
So it was that the sole subject of his absorption at that moment was
the fate in store for the comrade who was taken from him. Thereupon
Cauvignac's last request came to his mind; he fell upon his knees and
prayed.
In a few moments he rose, feeling comforted and strong, and awaiting
calmly the arrival of the succor promised by Madame de Cambes, or her
own presence.
Meanwhile Cauvignac followed the jailer through the dark corridor
without a word, and reflecting as deeply as his nature allowed him to
do.
At the end of the corridor, the jailer closed the door with the
least possible noise, and after listening for a moment to certain
ill-defined sounds which came up from the lower floors, turned sharply
to Cauvignac, and said:
"Come! my gentleman, off we go."
"I am ready," rejoined Cauvignac, majestically.
"Don't speak so loud," said the jailer, "and walk faster;" and he
started down a stairway leading to the underground dungeons.
"Oho!" said Cauvignac to himself, "do they propose to cut my throat
in some dark corner, or consign me to a dungeon? I have heard it said
that they sometimes content themselves with exhibiting the four limbs
on a public square, as Cæsar Borgia did with Ramiro d'Orco. This jailer
is all alone, and his keys are at his belt. The keys must open some
door or other. He is short, I am tall; he is weak, I am strong; he is
in front, I am behind; I can very soon choke the life out of him if I
choose. Do I choose?"
Cauvignac, having decided that he did choose, had already extended his
muscular hands to put his plan in execution, when the jailer suddenly
turned about in a great fright.
"Hush!" said he, "do you hear nothing?"
"Upon my word," said Cauvignac, still speaking to himself, "there is
something decidedly mysterious in all this; and so much caution ought
to alarm me greatly, if it doesn't reassure me."