"This is it, my lord," said Beaulieu, pointing to an open door.
"Number two," said Henry; "why not number one?"
"Because that is reserved, my lord."
"Ah! it seems, then, that you expect a prisoner of higher rank than I."
"I did not say, my lord, that it was a prisoner."
"Who is it, then?"
"I beg my lord not to insist, for by refusing to answer I should fail in the obedience due him."
"Ah! that is another thing," said Henry.
And he became more pensive than before. Number one perplexed him, apparently. The governor was assiduous in his attentions. With a thousand apologies he installed Henry in his apartment, made every excuse for the comforts he might lack, stationed two soldiers at the door, and withdrew.
"Now," said the governor, addressing the turnkey, "let us go to the others."
The turnkey walked ahead. They took the same road by which they had come, passed through the chamber of torture, crossed the corridor, and reached the stairway. Then, still following his guide, Monsieur de Beaulieu ascended three flights. On reaching the fourth floor the turnkey opened successively three doors, each ornamented with two locks and three enormous bolts. He had scarcely touched the third door before they heard a joyous voice exclaiming:
"By Heaven! open; if only to give us some air. Your stove is so warm that I am stifled here."
And Coconnas, whom the reader has no doubt already recognized from his favorite exclamation, bounded from where he stood to the door.
"One instant, my gentleman," said the turnkey, "I have not come to let you out, but to let myself in, and the governor is with me."
"The governor!" said Coconnas, "what does he want?"
"To pay you a visit."
"He does me great honor," said Coconnas; "and he is welcome."
Monsieur de Beaulieu entered and at once dispelled the cordial smile of Coconnas by one of those icy looks which belong to governors of fortresses, to jailers, and to hangmen.
"Have you any money, monsieur?" he asked of the prisoner.
"I?" said Coconnas; "not a crown."
"Jewels?"
"I have a ring."
"Will you allow me to search you?"
"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, reddening with anger, "you take much on yourself, being in prison, and having me there also."
"We must suffer everything for the service of the King."
"So," said the Piedmontese, "those good fellows who rob on the Pont Neuf are like you, then, in the service of the King. By Heavens! I was very unjust, monsieur, for until now I have taken them for thieves."
"Good evening, monsieur," said Beaulieu. "Jailer, lock the door."
The governor went away, taking with him the ring, which was a beautiful sapphire, given him by Madame de Nevers to remind him of the color of her eyes.
"Now for the other," he said as he went out.
They crossed an empty chamber, and the game of three doors, six locks, and nine bolts began anew.
The last door open, a sigh was the first sound that greeted the visitors.
The apartment was more gloomy looking than the one Monsieur de Beaulieu had just left. Four long narrow windows admitted a feeble light into this mournful abode. Before these, iron bars were crossed in such a way that the eye of the prisoner was arrested by a dark line and prevented from catching even a glimpse of the sky. From each corner of the room pointed arches met in the middle of the ceiling, where they spread out in Gothic fashion.
La Mole was seated in a corner, and, in spite of the entrance of the visitors, appeared to have heard nothing.
The governor paused on the threshold and looked for an instant at the prisoner, who sat motionless, his head in his hands.
"Good evening, Monsieur de la Mole," said Beaulieu.
The young man slowly raised his head.
"Good evening, monsieur," said he.
"Monsieur," continued the governor, "I have come to search you."
"That is useless," said La Mole. "I will give you all I have."
"What have you?"
"About three hundred crowns, these jewels, and rings."
"Give them to me, monsieur," said the governor.
"Here they are."
La Mole turned out his pockets, took the rings from his finger, and the clasp from his hat.
"Have you nothing more?"
"Not that I know of."
"And that silk cord around your neck, what may that be?" asked the governor.
"Monsieur, that is not a jewel, but a relic."
"Give it to me."
"What! you demand it?"