"I think I have spoken enough," answered the prisoner, and that now it is your turn. I am weary."
Aramis gathered himself up, and a shade of deep solemnity spread itself over his countenance. It was evident that he had reached the crisis in the part he had come to the prison to play.
"One question," said Aramis.
"What is it? Speak."
"In the house you inhabited there were neither looking-glasses nor mirrors?"
"What are those two words, and what is their meaning?" asked the young man. "I have no sort of knowledge of them."
"They designate two pieces of furniture which reflect objects; so that, for instance, you may see in them your own lineaments, as you see mine now, with the naked eye."
"No; then there was neither a glass nor a mirror in the house," answered the young man. Aramis looked round him. "Nor is there here either," he said; "they have again taken the same precaution."
"To what end?"
"You will know directly. Now, you have told me that you were instructed in mathematics, astronomy, fencing, and riding; but you have not said a word about history."
"My tutor sometimes related to me the principal deeds of the King St. Louis, King Francis I., and King Henry IV."
"Is that all?"
"Very nearly."
"This also was done by design, then; just as they deprived you of mirrors, which reflect the present, so they left you in ignorance of history, which reflects the past. Since your imprisonment, books have been forbidden you; so that you are unacquainted with a number of facts, by means of which you would be able to reconstruct the shattered edifice of your recollections and your hopes."
"It is true," said the young man.
"Listen, then; I will in a few words tell you what has passed in France during the last twenty-three or twentyfour years; that is, from the probable date of your birth; in a word, from the time that interests you."
"Say on."
And the young man resumed his serious and attentive attitude
"Do you Know wno was the son of Henry IV.?"
