Chapter 25

Chapter XXV:
The Second Floor of la Bertaudiere.

On the second flight of stairs, whether from fatigue or emotion, the
breathing of the visitor began to fail him, and he leaned against the
wall. "Will you begin with this one?" said Baisemeaux; "for since we are
going to both, it matters very little whether we ascend from the second
to the third story, or descend from the third to the second."

"No, no," exclaimed Aramis, eagerly, "higher, if you please; the one
above is the more urgent." They continued their ascent. "Ask the jailer
for the keys," whispered Aramis. Baisemeaux did so, took the keys, and,
himself, opened the door of the third room. The jailer was the first to
enter; he placed upon the table the provisions, which the kind-hearted
governor called dainties, and then left the room. The prisoner had not
stirred; Baisemeaux then entered, while Aramis remained at the threshold,
from which place he saw a youth about eighteen years of age, who, raising
his head at the unusual noise, jumped off the bed, as he perceived the
governor, and clasping his hands together, began to cry out, "My mother,
my mother," in tones which betrayed such deep distress that Aramis,
despite his command over himself, felt a shudder pass through his frame.
"My dear boy," said Baisemeaux, endeavoring to smile, "I have brought you
a diversion and an extra, - the one for the mind, the other for the body;
this gentleman has come to take your measure, and here are some preserves
for your dessert."

"Oh, monsieur" exclaimed the young man, "keep me in solitude for a year,
let me have nothing but bread and water for a year, but tell me that at
the end of a year I shall leave this place, tell me that at the end of a
year I shall see my mother again."

"But I have heard you say that your mother was very poor, and that you
were very badly lodged when you were living with her, while here - upon
my word!"

"If she were poor, monsieur, the greater reason to restore her only means
of support to her. Badly lodged with her! Oh, monsieur, every one is
always well lodged when he is free."

"At all events, since you yourself admit you have done nothing but write
that unhappy distich - "

"But without any intention, I swear. Let me be punished - cut off the
hand which wrote it, I will work with the other - but restore my mother
to me."

"My boy," said Baisemeaux, "you know very well that it does not depend
upon me; all I can do for you is to increase your rations, give you a
glass of port wine now and then, slip in a biscuit for you between a
couple of plates."

"Great heaven!" exclaimed the young man, falling backward and rolling on
the ground.

Aramis, unable to bear this scene any