discharge; but after that you will make short work with
those fellows.' There was such dead silence that friends and
enemies could have heard these words; then raising his
sword, `Sound trumpets!' he cried."
"Well, very good; you will do as much when the opportunity
occurs, will you, Raoul?"
"I know not, sir, but I thought it really very fine and
grand!"
"Were you afraid, Raoul?" asked the count.
"Yes, sir," replied the young man naively; "I felt a great
chill at my heart, and at the word `fire,' which resounded
in Spanish from the enemy's ranks, I closed my eyes and
thought of you."
"In honest truth, Raoul?" said Athos, pressing his hand.
"Yes, sir; at that instant there was such a rataplan of
musketry that one might have imagined the infernal regions
had opened. Those who were not killed felt the heat of the
flames. I opened my eyes, astonished to find myself alive
and even unhurt; a third of the squadron were lying on the
ground, wounded, dead or dying. At that moment I encountered
the eye of the prince. I had but one thought and that was
that he was observing me. I spurred on and found myself in
the enemy's ranks."
"And the prince was pleased with you?"
"He told me so, at least, sir, when he desired me to return
to Paris with Monsieur de Chatillon, who was charged to
carry the news to the queen and to bring the colors we had
taken. `Go,' said he; `the enemy will not rally for fifteen
days and until that time I have no need of your service. Go
and see those whom you love and who love you, and tell my
sister De Longueville that I thank her for the present that
she made me of you.' And I came, sir," added Raoul, gazing
at the count with a smile of real affection, "for I thought
you would be glad to see me again."
Athos drew the young man toward him and pressed his lips to
his brow, as he would have done to a young daughter.
"And now, Raoul," said he, "you are launched; you have dukes
for friends, a marshal of France for godfather, a prince of
the blood as commander, and on the day of your return you
have been received by two queens; it is not so bad for a
novice."
"Oh sir," said Raoul, suddenly, "you recall something,
which, in my haste to relate my exploits, I had forgotten;
it is that there was with Her Majesty the Queen of England,
a gentleman who, when I pronounced your name, uttered a cry
of surprise and joy; he said he was a friend of yours, asked
your address, and is coming to see you."
"What is his name?"
"I did not venture to ask, sir; he spoke elegantly, although
I thought from his accent he was an Englishman."
"Ah!" said Athos, leaning down his head as if to remember
who it could be. Then, when he raised it again, he was
struck by the presence of a man who was standing at the open
door and was gazing at him with a compassionate air.
"Lord de Winter!" exclaimed the count.
"Athos, my friend!"
And the two gentlemen were for an instant locked in each
other's arms; then Athos, looking into his friend's face and
taking him by both hands, said:
"What ails you, my lord? you appear as unhappy as I am the
reverse."
"Yes, truly, dear friend; and I may even say the sight of
you increases my dismay."
And De Winter glancing around him, Raoul quickly understood
that the two friends wished to be alone and he therefore
left the room unaffectedly.
"Come, now that we are alone," said Athos, "let us talk of
yourself."
"Whilst we are alone let us speak of ourselves," replied De
Winter. "He is here."
"Who?"
"Milady's son."
Athos, again struck by this name, which seemed to pursue him
like an echo, hesitated for a moment, then slightly knitting
his brows, he calmly said:
"I know it, Grimaud met him between Bethune and Arras and
then came here to warn me of his presence."
"Does Grimaud know him, then?"
"No; but he was present at the deathbed of a man who knew
him."
"The headsman of Bethune?" exclaimed De Winter.
"You know about that?" cried Athos, astonished.
"He has just left me," replied De Winter, "after telling me
all. Ah! my friend! what a horrible scene! Why did we not
destroy the child with the mother?"
"What need you fear?" said Athos, recovering from the
instinctive fear he had at first experienced, by the aid of
reason; "are we not men accustomed to defend ourselves? Is
this young man an assassin by profession -- a murderer in
cold blood? He has killed the executioner of Bethune in an
access of passion, but now his fury is assuaged."
De Winter smiled sorrowfully and shook his head.
"Do you not know the race?" said he.
"Pooh!" said Athos, trying to smile in his turn. "It must
have lost its ferocity in the second generation. Besides, my
friend, Providence has warned us, that we may be on our
guard. All we can now do is to wait. Let us wait; and, as I
said before, let us speak of yourself. What brings you to
Paris?"
"Affairs of importance which you shall know later. But what
is this that I hear from Her Majesty the Queen of England?
Monsieur d'Artagnan sides with Mazarin! Pardon my frankness,
dear friend. I neither hate nor blame the cardinal, and your
opinions will be held ever sacred by me. But do you happen
to belong to him?"
"Monsieur d'Artagnan," replied Athos, "is in the service; he
is a soldier and obeys all constitutional authority.
Monsieur d'Artagnan is not rich and has need of his position
as lieutenant to enable him to live. Millionaires like
yourself, my lord, are rare in France."
"Alas!" said De Winter, "I am at this moment as poor as he
is, if not poorer. But to return to our subject."
"Well, then, you wish to know if I am of Mazarin's party?
No. Pardon my frankness, too, my lord."
"I am obliged to you, count, for this pleasing intelligence!
You make me young and happy again by it. Ah! so you are not
a Mazarinist? Delightful! Indeed, you could not belong to
him. But pardon me, are you free? I mean to ask if you are
married?"
"Ah! as to that, no," replied Athos, laughing.
"Because that young man, so handsome, so elegant, so
polished ---- "
"Is a child I have adopted and who does not even know who
was his father."
"Very well; you are always the same, Athos, great and
generous. Are you still friends with Monsieur Porthos and
Monsieur Aramis?"
"Add Monsieur d'Artagnan, my lord. We still remain four
friends devoted to each other; but when it becomes a
question of serving the cardinal or of fighting him, of
being Mazarinists or Frondists, then we are only two."
"Is Monsieur Aramis with D'Artagnan?" asked Lord de Winter.
"No," said Athos; "Monsieur Aramis does me the honor to
share my opinions."
"Could you put me in communication with your witty and
agreeable friend? Is he much changed?"
"He has become an abbe, that is all."
"You alarm me; his profession must have made him renounce
any great undertakings."
"On the contrary," said Athos, smiling, "he has never been
so much a musketeer as since he became an abbe, and you will
find him a veritable soldier."
"Could you engage to bring him to me to-morrow morning at
ten o'clock, on the Pont du Louvre?"
"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Athos, smiling, "you have a duel in
prospect."
"Yes, count, and a splendid duel, too; a duel in which I
hope you will take your part."
"Where are we to go, my lord?"
"To Her Majesty the Queen of England, who has desired me to
present you to her."
"This is an enigma," said Athos, "but it matters not; since
you know the solution of it I ask no further. Will your
lordship do me the honor to sup with me?"
"Thanks, count, no," replied De Winter. "I own to you that
that young man's visit has subdued my appetite and probably
will rob me of my sleep. What undertaking can have brought
him to Paris? It was not to meet me that he came, for he was
ignorant of my journey. This young man terrifies me, my
lord; there lies in him a sanguinary predisposition."
"What occupies him in England?"
"He is one of Cromwell's most enthusiastic disciples."
"But what attached him to the cause? His father and mother
were Catholics, I believe?"
"His hatred of the king, who deprived him of his estates and
forbade him to bear the name of De Winter."
"And what name does he now bear?"
"Mordaunt."
"A Puritan, yet disguised as a monk he travels alone in
France."
"Do you say as a monk?"
"It was thus, and by mere accident -- may God pardon me if I
blaspheme -- that he heard the confession of the executioner
of Bethune."
"Then I understand it all! he has been sent by Cromwell to
Mazarin, and the queen guessed rightly; we have been
forestalled. Everything is clear to me now. Adieu, count,
till to-morrow."
"But the night is dark," said Athos, perceiving that Lord de
Winter seemed more uneasy than he wished to appear; "and you
have no servant."
"I have Tony, a safe if simple youth."
"Halloo, there, Grimaud, Olivain, and Blaisois! call the
viscount and take the musket with you."
Blaisois was the tall youth, half groom, half peasant, whom
we saw at the Chateau de Bragelonne, whom Athos had
christened by the name of his province.
"Viscount," said Athos to Raoul, as he entered, "you will
conduct my lord as far as his hotel and permit no one to
approach him."
"Oh! count," said De Winter, "for whom do you take me?"
"For a stranger who does not know Paris," said Athos, "and
to whom the viscount will show the way."
De Winter shook him by the hand.
"Grimaud," said Athos, "put yourself at the head of the
troop and beware of the monk."
Grimaud shuddered, and nodding, awaited the departure,
regarding the butt of his musket with silent eloquence. Then
obeying the orders given him by Athos, he headed the small
procession, bearing the torch in one hand and the musket in
the other, until it reached De Winter's inn, when pounding
on the portal with his fist, he bowed to my lord and faced
about without a word.
The same order was followed in returning, nor did Grimaud's
searching glance discover anything of a suspicious
appearance, save a dark shadow, as it were, in ambuscade, at
the corner of the Rue Guenegaud and of the Quai. He fancied,
also, that in going he had already observed the street
watcher who had attracted his attention. He pushed on toward
him, but before he could reach it the shadow had disappeared
into an alley, into which Grimaud deemed it scarcely prudent
to pursue it.
The next day, on awaking, the count perceived Raoul by his
bedside. The young man was already dressed and was reading a
new book by M. Chapelain.
"Already up, Raoul?" exclaimed the count.
"Yes, sir," replied Raoul, with slight hesitation; "I did
not sleep well."
"You, Raoul, not sleep well! then you must have something on
your mind!" said Athos.
"Sir, you will perhaps think that I am in a great hurry to
leave you when I have only just arrived, but ---- "
"Have you only two days of leave, Raoul?"
"On the contrary, sir, I have ten; nor is it to the camp I
wish to go."
"Where, then?" said Athos, smiling, "if it be not a secret.
You are now almost a man, since you have made your first
passage of arms, and have acquired the right to go where you
will without consulting me."
"Never, sir," said Raoul, "as long as I possess the
happiness of having you for a protector, shall I deem I have
the right of freeing myself from a guardianship so valuable
to me. I have, however, a wish to go and pass a day at
Blois. You look at me and you are going to laugh at me."
"No, on the contrary, I am not inclined to laugh," said
Athos, suppressing a sigh. "You wish to see Blois again; it
is but natural."
"Then you permit me to go, you are not angry in your heart?"
exclaimed Raoul, joyously.
"Certainly; and why should I regret what gives you
pleasure?"
"Oh! how kind you are," exclaimed the young man, pressing
his guardian's hand; "and I can set out immediately?"
"When you like, Raoul."
"Sir," said Raoul, as he turned to leave the room, "I have
thought of one thing, and that is about the Duchess of
Chevreuse, who was so kind to me and to whom I owe my
introduction to the prince."
"And you ought to thank her, Raoul. Well, try the Hotel de
Luynes, Raoul, and ask if the duchess can receive you. I am
glad to see you pay attention to the usages of the world.
You must take Grimaud and Olivain."
"Both, sir?" asked Raoul, astonished.
"Both."
Raoul went out, and when Athos heard his young, joyous voice
calling to Grimaud and Olivain, he sighed.
"It is very soon to leave me," he thought, "but he follows
the common custom. Nature has made us thus; she makes the
young look ever forward, not behind. He certainly likes the
child, but will he love me less as his affection grows for
her?"
And Athos confessed to himself that, he was unprepared for
