The Man in the Iron Mask - Noyemi

By Alexandre Dumas

distrustfully withdrew his hand again.  "Kiss the hand of a prisoner," he
said, shaking his head, "to what purpose?"

"Why did you tell me," said Aramis, "that you were happy here?  Why, that
you aspired to nothing?  Why, in a word, by thus speaking, do you prevent
me from being frank in my turn?"

The same light shone a third time in the young man's eyes, but died
ineffectually away as before.

"You distrust me," said Aramis.

"And why say you so, monsieur?"

"Oh, for a very simple reason; if you know what you ought to know, you
ought to mistrust everybody."

"Then do not be astonished that I am mistrustful, since you suspect me of
knowing what I do not know."

Aramis was struck with admiration at this energetic resistance.  "Oh,
monseigneur! you drive me to despair," said he, striking the armchair
with his fist.

"And, on my part, I do not comprehend you, monsieur."

"Well, then, try to understand me."  The prisoner looked fixedly at
Aramis.

"Sometimes it seems to me," said the latter, "that I have before me the
man whom I seek, and then - "

"And then your man disappears, - is it not so?" said the prisoner,
smiling.  "So much the better."

Aramis rose.  "Certainly," said he; "I have nothing further to say to a
man who mistrusts me as you do."

"And I, monsieur," said the prisoner, in the same tone, "have nothing to
say to a man who will not understand that a prisoner ought to be
mistrustful of everybody."

"Even of his old friends," said Aramis.  "Oh, monseigneur, you are _too_
prudent!"

"Of my old friends? - you one of my old friends, - you?"

"Do you no longer remember," said Aramis, "that you once saw, in the
village where your early years were spent - "

"Do you know the name of the village?" asked the prisoner.

"Noisy-le-Sec, monseigneur," answered Aramis, firmly.

"Go on," said the young man, with an immovable aspect.

"Stay, monseigneur," said Aramis; "if you are positively resolved to
carry on this game, let us break off.  I am here to tell you many things,
'tis true; but you must allow me to see that, on your side, you have a
desire to know them.  Before revealing the important matters I still
withhold, be assured I am in need of some encouragement, if not candor; a
little sympathy, if not confidence.  But you keep yourself intrenched in
a pretended which paralyzes me.  Oh, not for the reason you think; for,
ignorant as you may be, or indifferent as you feign to be, you are none
the less what you are, monseigneur, and there is nothing - nothing, mark
me! which can cause you not to be so."

"I promise you," replied the prisoner, "to hear you without impatience.
Only it appears to me that I have a right to repeat the question I have
already asked, 'Who _are_ you?'"

"Do you remember, fifteen or eighteen years ago, seeing at Noisy-le-Sec a
cavalier, accompanied by a lady in black silk, with flame-colored ribbons
in her hair?"

"Yes," said the young man; "I once asked the name of this cavalier, and
they told me that he called himself the Abbe d'Herblay.  I was astonished
that the abbe had so warlike an air, and they replied that there was
nothing singular in that, seeing that he was one of Louis XIII.'s
musketeers."

"Well," said Aramis, "that musketeer and abbe, afterwards bishop of
Vannes, is your confessor now."

"I know it; I recognized you."

"Then, monseigneur, if you know that, I must further add a fact of which
you are ignorant - that if the king were to know this evening of the
presence of this musketeer, this abbe, this bishop, this confessor,
_here_ - he, who has risked everything to visit you, to-morrow would
behold the steely glitter of the executioner's axe in a dungeon more
gloomy, more obscure than yours."

While listening to these words, delivered with emphasis, the young man
had raised himself on his couch, and was now gazing more and more eagerly
at Aramis.

The result of his scrutiny was that he appeared to derive some confidence
from it.  "Yes," he murmured, "I remember perfectly.  The woman of whom
you speak came once with you, and twice afterwards with another."  He

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The Man in the Iron Mask - Noyemi

By Alexandre Dumas

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