Give me those papers, and leave us." The officer took from the table the papers pointed out, gave them to him who asked for them, bowed to the ground, and retired.
Bonacieux recognized in these papers his interrogatories of the Bastille.

From time to time the man by the chimney raised his eyes from the writings, and plunged them like poniards into the heart of the poor mercer.
At the end of ten minutes of reading and ten seconds of examination, the cardinal was satisfied.
"That head has never conspired," murmured he, "but it matters not; we will see." "You are accused of high treason," said the cardinal, slowly.
"So I have been told already, monseigneur," cried Bonacieux, giving his interrogator the title he had heard the officer give him, "but I swear to you that I know nothing about it." The cardinal repressed a smile.
"You have conspired with your wife, with Madame de Chevreuse, and with my Lord Duke of Buckingham." "Indeed, monseigneur," responded the mercer, "I have heard her pronounce all those names." "And on what occasion ?" "She said that the Cardinal de Richelieu had drawn the Duke of Buckingham to Paris to ruin him and to ruin the queen." "She said that ?" cried the cardinal, with violence.
"Yes, monseigneur, but I told her she was wrong to talk about such things; and that his Eminence was incapable--" "Hold your tongue! You are stupid," replied the cardinal.
"That's exactly what my wife said, monseigneur." "Do you know who carried off your wife ?" "No, monseigneur." "You have suspicions, nevertheless ?" "Yes, monseigneur; but these suspicions appeared to be disagreeable to Monsieur the Commissary, and I no longer have them." "Your wife has escaped.

Did you know that ?" "No, monseigneur.

I learned it since I have been in prison, and that from the conversation of Monsieur the Commissary--an amiable man." The cardinal repressed another smile.
"Then you are ignorant of what has become of your wife since her flight." "Absolutely, monseigneur; but she has most likely returned to the Louvre." "At one o'clock this morning she had not returned." "My God! What can have become of her, then ?" "We shall know, be assured.

Nothing is concealed from the cardinal; the cardinal knows everything." "In that case, monseigneur, do you believe the cardinal will be so kind as to tell me what has become of my wife ?" "Perhaps he may; but you must, in the first place, reveal to the cardinal all you know of your wife's relations with Madame de Chevreuse." "But, monseigneur, I know nothing about them; I have never seen her." "When you went to fetch your wife from the Louvre, did you always return directly home ?" "Scarcely ever; she had business to transact with linen drapers, to whose houses I conducted her." "And how many were there of these linen drapers ?" "Two, monseigneur." "And where did they live ?" "One in Rue de Vaugirard, the other Rue de la Harpe." "Did you go into these houses with her ?" "Never, monseigneur; I waited at the door." "And what excuse did she give you for entering all alone ?" "She gave me none; she told me to wait, and I waited." "You are a very complacent husband, my dear Monsieur Bonacieux," said the cardinal.
"He calls me his dear Monsieur," said the mercer to himself.