The Man in the Iron Mask - Noyemi

By Alexandre Dumas

"Nothing."

"Not even your liberty?"

"What do you call liberty, monsieur?" asked the prisoner, with the tone
of a man who is preparing for a struggle.

"I call liberty, the flowers, the air, light, the stars, the happiness of
going whithersoever the sinewy limbs of one-and-twenty chance to wish to
carry you."

The young man smiled, whether in resignation or contempt, it was
difficult to tell.  "Look," said he, "I have in that Japanese vase two
roses gathered yesterday evening in the bud from the governor's garden;
this morning they have blown and spread their vermilion chalice beneath
my gaze; with every opening petal they unfold the treasures of their
perfumes, filling my chamber with a fragrance that embalms it.  Look now
on these two roses; even among roses these are beautiful, and the rose is
the most beautiful of flowers.  Why, then, do you bid me desire other
flowers when I possess the loveliest of all?"

Aramis gazed at the young man in surprise.

"If _flowers_ constitute liberty," sadly resumed the captive, "I am free,
for I possess them."

"But the air!" cried Aramis; "air is so necessary to life!"

"Well, monsieur," returned the prisoner; "draw near to the window; it is
open.  Between high heaven and earth the wind whirls on its waftages of
hail and lightning, exhales its torrid mist or breathes in gentle
breezes.  It caresses my face.  When mounted on the back of this
armchair, with my arm around the bars of the window to sustain myself, I
fancy I am swimming the wide expanse before me."  The countenance of
Aramis darkened as the young man continued: "Light I have! what is better
than light?  I have the sun, a friend who comes to visit me every day
without the permission of the governor or the jailer's company.  He comes
in at the window, and traces in my room a square the shape of the window,
which lights up the hangings of my bed and floods the very floor.  This
luminous square increases from ten o'clock till midday, and decreases
from one till three slowly, as if, having hastened to my presence, it
sorrowed at bidding me farewell.  When its last ray disappears I have
enjoyed its presence for five hours.  Is not that sufficient?  I have
been told that there are unhappy beings who dig in quarries, and laborers
who toil in mines, who never behold it at all."  Aramis wiped the drops
from his brow.  "As to the stars which are so delightful to view,"
continued the young man, "they all resemble each other save in size and
brilliancy.  I am a favored mortal, for if you had not lighted that
candle you would have been able to see the beautiful stars which I was
gazing at from my couch before your arrival, whose silvery rays were
stealing through my brain."

Aramis lowered his head; he felt himself overwhelmed with the bitter flow
of that sinister philosophy which is the religion of the captive.

"So much, then, for the flowers, the air, the daylight, and the stars,"
tranquilly continued the young man; "there remains but exercise.  Do I
not walk all day in the governor's garden if it is fine - here if it
rains? in the fresh air if it is warm; in perfect warmth, thanks to my
winter stove, if it be cold?  Ah! monsieur, do you fancy," continued the
prisoner, not without bitterness, "that men have not done everything for
me that a man can hope for or desire?"

"Men!" said Aramis; "be it so; but it seems to me you are forgetting
Heaven."

"Indeed I have forgotten Heaven," murmured the prisoner, with emotion;
"but why do you mention it?  Of what use is it to talk to a prisoner of
Heaven?"

Aramis looked steadily at this singular youth, who possessed the
resignation of a martyr with the smile of an atheist.  "Is not Heaven in
everything?" he murmured in a reproachful tone.

"Say rather, at the end of everything," answered the prisoner, firmly.

"Be it so," said Aramis; "but let us return to our starting-point."

"I ask nothing better," returned the young man.

"I am your confessor."

"Yes."

"Well, then, you ought, as a penitent, to tell me the truth."

"My whole desire is to tell it you."

"Every prisoner has committed some crime for which he has been
imprisoned.  What crime, then, have you committed?"

"You asked me the same question the first time you saw me," returned the
prisoner.

"And then, as now you evaded giving me an answer."

"And what reason have you for thinking that I shall now reply to you?"

"Because this time I am your confessor."

-2-

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The Man in the Iron Mask - Noyemi

By Alexandre Dumas

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