In half an hour La Ramee returned, full of glee, like mostmen who have eaten, and more especially drank to theirheart's content. The pates were excellent, the winedelicious.

The weather was fine and the game at tennis took place inthe open air.

At two o'clock the tennis balls began, according toGrimaud's directions, to take the direction of the moat,much to the joy of La Ramee, who marked fifteen whenever theduke sent a ball into the moat; and very soon balls werewanting, so many had gone over. La Ramee then proposed tosend some one to pick them up, but the duke remarked that itwould be losing time; and going near the rampart himself andlooking over, he saw a man working in one of the numerouslittle gardens cleared out by the peasants on the oppositeside of the moat.

"Hey, friend!" cried the duke.

The man raised his head and the duke was about to utter acry of surprise. The peasant, the gardener, was Rochefort,whom he believed to be in the Bastile.

"Well? Who's up there?" said the man.

"Be so good as to collect and throw us back our balls," saidthe duke.

The gardener nodded and began to fling up the balls, whichwere picked up by La Ramee and the guard. One, however, fellat the duke's feet, and seeing that it was intended for him,he put it into his pocket.

La Ramee was in ecstasies at having beaten a prince of theblood.

The duke went indoors and retired to bed, where he spent,indeed, the greater part of every day, as they had taken hisbooks away. La Ramee carried off all his clothes, in orderto be certain that the duke would not stir. However, theduke contrived to hide the ball under his bolster and assoon as the door was closed he tore off the cover of theball with his teeth and found underneath the followingletter:

My Lord, - Your friends are watching over you and the hourof your deliverance is at hand. Ask day after to-morrow tohave a pie supplied you by the new confectioner opposite thecastle, and who is no other than Noirmont, your formermaitre d'hotel. Do not open the pie till you are alone. Ihope you will be satisfied with its contents.

"Your highness's most devoted servant,

"In the Bastile, as elsewhere,

"Comte de Rochefort.

The duke, who had latterly been allowed a fire, burned theletter, but kept the ball, and went to bed, hiding the ballunder his bolster. La Ramee entered; he smiled kindly on theprisoner, for he was an excellent man and had taken a greatliking for the captive prince. He endeavored to cheer him upin his solitude.

"Ah, my friend!" cried the duke, "you are so good; if Icould but do as you do, and eat pates and drink Burgundy atthe house of Father Marteau's successor."

"'Tis true, my lord," answered La Ramee, "that his pates arefamous and his wine magnificent."

"In any case," said the duke, "his cellar and kitchen mighteasily excel those of Monsieur de Chavigny."

"Well, my lord," said La Ramee, falling into the trap, "whatis there to prevent your trying them? Besides, I havepromised him your patronage."

"You are right," said the duke. "If I am to remain herepermanently, as Monsieur Mazarin has kindly given me tounderstand, I must provide myself with a diversion for myold age, I must turn gourmand."

"My lord," said La Ramee, "if you will take a bit of goodadvice, don't put that off till you are old."

"Good!" said the Duc de Beaufort to himself, "every man inorder that he may lose his heart and soul, must receive fromcelestial bounty one of the seven capital sins, perhaps two;it seems that Master La Ramee's is gluttony. Let us thentake advantage of it." Then, aloud:

"Well, my dear La Ramee! the day after to-morrow is aholiday."

"Yes, my lord - Pentecost."

"Will you give me a lesson the day after to-morrow?"

"In what?"

"In gastronomy?"

"Willingly, my lord."

"But tete-a-tete. Send the guards to take their meal in thecanteen of Monsieur de Chavigny; we'll have a supper hereunder your direction."

"Hum!" said La Ramee.

The proposal was seductive, but La Ramee was an old stager,acquainted with all the traps a prisoner was likely to set.Monsieur de Beaufort had said that he had forty ways ofgetting out of prison. Did this proposed breakfast coversome stratagem? He reflected, but he remembered that hehimself would have charge of the food and the wine andtherefore that no powder could be mixed with the food, nodrug with the wine. As to getting him drunk, the dukecouldn't hope to do that, and he laughed at the mere thoughtof it. Then an idea came to him which harmonized everything.

The duke had followed with anxiety La Ramee's unspokensoliloquy, reading it from point to point upon his face. Butpresently the exempt's face suddenly brightened.

"Well," he asked, "that will do, will it not?"

"Yes, my lord, on one condition."

"What?"

"That Grimaud shall wait on us at table."

Nothing could be more agreeable to the duke, however, he hadpresence of mind enough to exclaim:

"To the devil with your Grimaud! He will spoil the feast."

"I will direct him to stand behind your chair, and since hedoesn't speak, your highness will neither see nor hear himand with a little effort can imagine him a hundred milesaway."

"Do you know, my friend, I find one thing very evident inall this, you distrust me."

"My lord, the day after to-morrow is Pentecost."

"Well, what is Pentecost to me? Are you afraid that the HolySpirit will come as a tongue of fire to open the doors of myprison?"

"No, my lord; but I have already told you what that damnedmagician predicted."

"And what was it?"

"That the day of Pentecost would not pass without yourhighness being out of Vincennes."

"You believe in sorcerers, then, you fool?"

"I - -I mind them no more than that - - " and he snappedhis fingers; "but it is my Lord Giulio who cares about them;as an Italian he is superstitious."

The duke shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, then," with well acted good-humor, "I allow Grimaud,but no one else; you must manage it all. Order whatever youlike for supper - the only thing I specify is one of thosepies; and tell the confectioner that I will promise him mycustom if he excels this time in his pies - not only now,but when I leave my prison."

"Then you think you will some day leave it?" said La Ramee.

"The devil!" replied the prince; "surely, at the death ofMazarin. I am fifteen years younger than he is. AtVincennes, 'tis true, one lives faster - - "

"My lord," replied La Ramee, "my lord - - "

"Or dies sooner, for it comes to the same thing."

La Ramee was going out. He stopped, however, at the door foran instant.

"Whom does your highness wish me to send to you?"

"Any one, except Grimaud."

"The officer of the guard, then, with his chessboard?"

"Yes."

Five minutes afterward the officer entered and the dukeseemed to be immersed in the sublime combinations of chess.

A strange thing is the mind, and it is wonderful whatrevolutions may be wrought in it by a sign, a word, a hope.The duke had been five years in prison, and now to him,looking back upon them, those five years, which had passedso slowly, seemed not so long a time as were the two days,the forty-eight hours, which still parted him from the timefixed for his escape. Besides, there was one thing thatengaged his most anxious thought - in what way was theescape to be effected? They had told him to hope for it, buthad not told him what was to be hidden in the mysteriouspate. And what friends awaited him without? He had friends,then, after five years in prison? If that were so he wasindeed a highly favored prince. He forgot that besides hisfriends of his own sex, a woman, strange to say, hadremembered him. It is true that she had not, perhaps, beenscupulously faithful to him, but she had remembered him;that was something.

So the duke had more than enough to think about; accordinglyhe fared at chess as he had fared at tennis; he made blunderupon blunder and the officer with whom he played found himeasy game.

But his successive defeats did service to the duke in oneway - they killed time for him till eight o'clock in theevening; then would come night, and with night, sleep. So,at least, the duke believed; but sleep is a capriciousfairy, and it is precisely when one invokes her presencethat she is most likely to keep him waiting. The duke waiteduntil midnight, turning on his mattress like St. Laurence onhis gridiron. Finally he slept.

But at daybreak he awoke. Wild dreams had disturbed hisrepose. He dreamed that he was endowed with wings - hewished to fly away. For a time these wings supported him,but when he reached a certain height this new aid failedhim. His wings were broken and he seemed to sink into abottomless abyss, whence he awoke, bathed in perspirationand nearly as much overcome as if he had really fallen. Hefell asleep again and another vision appeared. He was in asubterranean passage by which he was to leave Vincennes.Grimaud was walking before him with a lantern. By degreesthe passage narrowed, yet the duke continued his course. Atlast it became so narrow that the fugitive tried in vain toproceed. The sides of the walls seem to close in, even topress against him. He made fruitless efforts to go on; itwas impossible. Nevertheless, he still saw Grimaud with hislantern in front, advancing. He wished to call out to himbut could not utter a word. Then at the other extremity heheard the footsteps of those who were pursuing him. Thesesteps came on, came fast. He was discovered; all hope offlight was gone. Still the walls seemed to be closing onhim; they appeared to be in concert with his enemies. Atlast he heard the voice of La Ramee. La Ramee took his handand laughed aloud. He was captured again, and conducted tothe low and vaulted chamber, in which Ornano, Puylaurens,and his uncle had died. Their three graves were there,rising above the ground, and a fourth was also there,yawning for its ghastly tenant.

The duke was obliged to make as many efforts to awake as hehad done to go to sleep; and La Ramee found him so pale andfatigued that he inquired whether he was ill.

"In fact," said one of the guards who had remained in thechamber and had been kept awake by a toothache, brought onby the dampness of the atmosphere, "my lord has had a veryrestless night and two or three times, while dreaming, hecalled for help."

"What is the matter with your highness?" asked La Ramee.

"'Tis your fault, you simpleton," answered the duke. "Withyour idle nonsense yesterday about escaping, you worried meso that I dreamed that I was trying to escape and broke myneck in doing so."

La Ramee laughed.

"Come," he said, "'tis a warning from Heaven. Never commitsuch an imprudence as to try to escape, except in yourdreams."

"And you are right, my dear La Ramee," said the duke, wipingaway the sweat that stood on his brow, wide awake though hewas; "after this I will think of nothing but eating anddrinking."

"Hush!" said La Ramee; and one by one he sent away theguards, on various pretexts.

"Well?" asked the duke when they were alone.

"Well!" replied La Ramee, "your supper is ordered."

"Ah! and what is it to be? Monsieur, my majordomo, willthere be a pie?"

"I should think so, indeed - almost as high as a tower."

"You told him it was for me?"

"Yes, and he said he would do his best to please yourhighness."

"Good!" exclaimed the duke, rubbing his hands.

"Devil take it, my lord! what a gourmand you are growing; Ihaven't seen you with so cheerful a face these five years."

The duke saw that he had not controlled himself as he ought,but at that moment, as if he had listened at the door andcomprehended the urgent need of diverting La Ramee's ideas,Grimaud entered and made a sign to La Ramee that he hadsomething to say to him.

La Ramee drew near to Grimaud, who spoke to him in a lowvoice.

The duke meanwhile recovered his self-control.

"I have already forbidden that man," he said, "to come inhere without my permission."

"You must pardon him, my lord," said La Ramee, "for Idirected him to come."

"And why did you so direct when you know that he displeasesme?"

"My lord will remember that it was agreed between us that heshould wait upon us at that famous supper. My lord hasforgotten the supper."

"No, but I have forgotten Monsieur Grimaud."

"My lord understands that there can be no supper unless heis allowed to be present."

"Go on, then; have it your own way."

"Come here, my lad," said La Ramee, "and hear what I have tosay."

Grimaud approached, with a very sullen expression on hisface.

La Ramee continued: "My lord has done me the honor to inviteme to a supper to-morrow en tete-a-tete."

Grimaud made a sign which meant that he didn't see what thathad to do with him.

"Yes, yes," said La Ramee, "the matter concerns you, for youwill have the honor to serve us; and besides, however goodan appetite we may have and however great our thirst, therewill be something left on the plates and in the bottles, andthat something will be yours."

Grimaud bowed in thanks.

"And now," said La Ramee, "I must ask your highness'spardon, but it seems that Monsieur de Chavigny is to be awayfor a few days and he has sent me word that he has certaindirections to give me before his departure."

The duke tried to exchange a glance with Grimaud, but therewas no glance in Grimaud's eyes.

"Go, then," said the duke, "and return as soon as possible."

"Does your highness wish to take revenge for the game oftennis yesterday?"

Grimaud intimated by a scarcely perceptible nod that heshould consent.

"Yes," said the duke, "but take care, my dear La Ramee, forI propose to beat you badly."

La Ramee went out. Grimaud looked after him, and when thedoor was closed he drew out of his pocket a pencil and asheet of paper.

"Write, my lord," he said.

"And what?"

Grimaud dictated.

"All is ready for to-morrow evening. Keep watch from sevento nine. Have two riding horses ready. We shall descend bythe first window in the gallery."

"What next?"

"Sign your name, my lord."

The duke signed.

"Now, my lord, give me, if you have not lost it, the ball - that which contained the letter."

The duke took it from under his pillow and gave it toGrimaud. Grimaud gave a grim smile.

"Well?" asked the duke.

"Well, my lord, I sew up the paper in the ball and you, inyour game of tennis, will send the ball into the ditch."

"But will it not be lost?"

"Oh no; there will be some one at hand to pick it up."

"A gardener?"

Grimaud nodded.

"The same as yesterday?"

Another nod on the part of Grimaud.

"The Count de Rochefort?"

Grimaud nodded the third time.

"Come, now," said the duke, "give some particulars of theplan for our escape."

"That is forbidden me," said Grimaud, "until the lastmoment."

"Who will be waiting for me beyond the ditch?"

"I know nothing about it, my lord."

"But at least, if you don't want to see me turn crazy, tellwhat that famous pate will contain."

"Two poniards, a knotted rope and a poire d'angoisse."*

*This poire d'angoisse was a famous gag, in the form of apear, which, being thrust into the mouth, by the aid of aspring, dilated, so as to distend the jaws to their greatestwidth.

"Yes, I understand."

"My lord observes that there will be enough to go around."

"We shall take to ourselves the poniards and the rope,"replied the duke.

"And make La Ramee eat the pear," answered Grimaud.

"My dear Grimaud, thou speakest seldom, but when thou dost,one must do thee justice - thy words are words of gold."