After this d part of his discour, fixing his hawk''s eye upon poor Bonacieux, he bade him reflebsp;upon the gravity of his situation.
The refles of the merbsp;were already made; he curd the instant when M. Laporte formed the idea of marrying him to his goddaughter, and particularly the moment when that goddaughter had been received as Lady of the Linen to her Majesty.
At bottom the character of M. Bonacieux was one of profound lfishness mixed with sordid avaribsp;the whole asoned with extreme cowardibsp;The love with whibsp;his young wife had inspired him was a dary , and was not strong enough to tend with the primitive feelings we have just eed. Bonacieux indeed reflected on what had just been said to him.
"But, Monsieur issary," said he, calmly, "believe that I know and appreciate, more than anybody, the merit of the inparable eminenbsp;by whom we have the honor to be governed."
"Indeed?" asked the issary, with an air of doubt. "If that is really so, how came you in the Bastille?"
"How I came there, or rather why I am there," replied Bonacieux, "that is entirely impossible for me to tell you, bebsp;I don''t know mylf; but to a certainty it is not for having, knowingly at least, disobliged Monsieur the Cardinal."
"You must, heless, have itted a crime, sinbsp;you are here and are acbsp;of high treason."
"Of high treason!" cried Bonacieux, terrified; "of high treason! How is it possible for a poor mercer, who detests Huguenots and who abhors Spaniards, to be acbsp;of high treason? sider, monsieur, the thing is absolutely impossible."
"Monsieur Bonacieux," said the issary, looking at the acbsp;as if his little eyes had the faculty of reading to the very depths of hearts, "you have a wife?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied the mercer, in a tremble, feeling that it was at this point affairs were likely to bee perplexing; "that is to say, I HAD one."