his hands together.
“But why, at all events, after having taken Marchiali away from me, do you
bring him back again?” cried the unhappy governor, in a paroxysm of terror, and
completely dumbfounded.
“For a friend such as you are,” said Aramis—“for so devoted a servant, I have no secrets;” and he put his mouth close to Baisemeaux’s ear, as he said, in a
low tone of voice, “you know the resemblance between that unfortunate fellow,
and—”
“And the king?—yes!”
“Very good; the first use that Marchiali made of his liberty was to persist—
Can you guess what?”
“How is it likely I should guess?”
“To persist in saying that he was king of France; to dress himself up in clothes like those of the king; and then pretend to assume that he was the king
himself.”
“Gracious heavens!”
“That is t
