La Ramee sent away the guards, desiring them to drink to the duke's health, and as soon as they were gone shut all the doors, put the keys in his pocket and showed the table to the prince with an air that signified:
"Whenever my lord pleases."
The prince looked at Grimaud, Grimaud looked at the clock; it was hardly a quarter-past six. The escape was fixed to take place at seven o'clock; there was therefore three-quarters of an hour to wait.
The duke, in order to pass away another quarter of an hour, pretended to be reading something that interested him and muttered that he wished they would allow him to finish his chapter. La Ramee went up to him and looked over his shoulder to see what sort of a book it was that had so singular an influence over the prisoner as to make him put off taking his dinner.
It was "Caesar's Commentaries," which La Ramee had lent him, contrary to the orders of the governor; and La Ramee resolved never again to disobey these injunctions.
Meantime he uncorked the bottles and went to smell if the pie was good.
At half-past six the duke arose and said very gravely:
"Certainly, Caesar was the greatest man of ancient times."
"You think so, my lord?" answered La Ramee.
"Yes."
"Well, as for me, I prefer Hannibal."
"And why, pray, Master La Ramee?" asked the duke.
"Because he left no Commentaries," replied La Ramee, with his coarse laugh.
The duke vouchsafed no reply, but sitting down at the table made a sign that La Ramee should seat himself opposite.
There is nothing so expressive as the face of an epicure who finds himself before a well spread table, so La Ramee, when receiving his plate of soup from Grimaud, presented a type of perfect bliss.
The duke smiled.
"Zounds!" he said; "I don't suppose there is a more contented man at this moment in all the kingdom than yourself!"
"You are right, my lord duke," answered the officer; "I don't know any pleasanter sight on earth than a well covered table; and when, added to that, he who does the honors is the grandson of Henry IV., you will, my lord duke, easily comprehend that the honor fairly doubles the pleasure one enjoys."
The duke, in his turn, bowed, and an imperceptible smile appeared on the face of Grimaud, who kept behind La Ramee.
"My dear La Ramee," said the duke, "you are the only man to turn such faultless compliments."
"No, my lord duke," replied La Ramee, in the fullness of his heart; "I say what I think; there is no compliment in what I say to you ---- "
"Then you are attached to me?" asked the duke.
"To own the truth, I should be inconsolable if you were to leave Vincennes."
"A droll way of showing your affliction." The duke meant to say "affection."
"But, my lord," returned La Ramee, "what would you do if you got out? Every folly you committed would embroil you with the court and they would put you into the Bastile, instead of Vincennes. Now, Monsieur de Chavigny is not amiable, I allow, but Monsieur du Tremblay is considerably worse."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the duke, who from time to time looked at the clock, the fingers of which seemed to move with sickening slowness.
"But what can you expect from the brother of a capuchin monk, brought up in the school of Cardinal Richelieu? Ah, my lord, it is a great happiness that the queen, who always wished you well, had a fancy to send you here, where there's a promenade and a tennis court, good air, and a good table."
"In short," answered the duke, "if I comprehend you aright, La Ramee, I am ungrateful for having ever thought of leaving this place?"
"Oh! my lord duke, 'tis the height of ingratitude; but your highness has never seriously thought of it?"
"Yes," returned the duke, "I must confess I sometimes think of it."
"Still by one of your forty methods, your highness?"
"Yes, yes, indeed."
"My lord," said La Ramee, "now we are quite at our ease and enjoying ourselves, pray tell me one of those forty ways invented by your highness."
"Willingly," answered the duke, "give me the pie!"
"I am listening," said La Ramee, leaning back in his armchair and raising his glass of Madeira to his lips, and winking his eye that he might see the sun through the rich liquid that he was about to taste.
The duke glanced at the clock. In ten minutes it would strike seven.
Grimaud placed the pie before the duke, who took a knife with a silver blade to raise the upper crust; but La Ramee, who was afraid of any harm happening to this fine work of art, passed his knife, which had an iron blade, to the duke.
"Thank you, La Ramee," said the prisoner.
"Well, my lord! this famous invention of yours?"
"Must I tell you," replied the duke, "on what I most reckon and what I determine to try first?"
"Yes, that's the thing, my lord!" cried his custodian, gaily.
"Well, I should hope, in the first instance, to have for keeper an honest fellow like you."
"And you have me, my lord. Well?"
"Having, then, a keeper like La Ramee, I should try also to have introduced to him by some friend or other a man who would be devoted to me, who would assist me in my flight."
"Come, come," said La Ramee, "that's not a bad idea."
"Capital, isn't it? for instance, the former servingman of some brave gentleman, an enemy himself to Mazarin, as every gentleman ought to be."
"Hush! don't let us talk politics, my lord."
"Then my keeper would begin to trust this man and to depend upon him, and I should have news from those without the prison walls."
"Ah, yes! but how can the news be brought to you?"
"Nothing easier; in a game of tennis, for example."
"In a game of tennis?" asked La Ramee, giving more serious attention to the duke's words.
"Yes; see, I send a ball into the moat; a man is there who picks it up; the ball contains a letter. Instead of returning the ball to me when I call for it from the top of the wall, he throws me another; that other ball contains a letter. Thus we have exchanged ideas and no one has seen us do it."
"The devil it does! The devil it does!" said La Ramee, scratching his head; "you are in the wrong to tell me that, my lord. I shall have to watch the men who pick up balls."
The duke smiled.