Since Aramis's singular transformation into a confessor of the order, Baisemeaux wasno longer the same man. Up to that period, the place which Aramis had held in the worthygovernor's estimation was that of a prelate whom he respected and a friend to whom heowed a debt of gratitude; but now he felt himself an inferior, and that Aramis was hismaster. He himself lighted a lantern, summoned a turnkey, and said, returning to Aramis, "Iam at your orders, monseigneur." Aramis merely nodded his head, as much as to say, "Verygood"; and signed to him with his hand to lead the way. Baisemeaux advanced, and Aramisfollowed him. It was a calm and lovely starlit night; the steps of three men resounded onthe flags of the terraces, and the clinking of the keys hanging from the jailer's girdle madeitself heard up to the stories of the towers, as if to remind the prisoners that the liberty ofearth was a luxury beyond their reach. It might have been said that the alteration effectedin Baisemeaux extended even to the prisoners. The turnkey, the same who, on Aramis'sfirst arrival had shown himself so inquisitive and curious, was now not only silent, butimpassible. He held his head down, and seemed afraid to keep his ears open. In this wisethey reached the basement of the Bertaudiere, the two first stories of which were mountedsilently and somewhat slowly; for Baisemeaux, though far from disobeying, was far fromexhibiting any eagerness to obey. On arriving at the door, Baisemeaux showed a dispositionto enter the prisoner's chamber; but Aramis, stopping him on the threshold, said, "The rulesdo not allow the governor to hear the prisoner's confession."
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