ssible weather,
without a cloud in the heavens--without a cloud on his mind, joyous
and strong, calm and decided, great in his resolution, and consequently
carrying with him a tenfold dose of that potent fluid which the shocks
of mind cause to spring from the nerves, and which procure for the
human machine a force and an influence of which future ages will render,
according to all probability, a more arithmetical account than we can
possibly do at present. He was again, as in times past, on that same
road of adventures which had led him to Boulogne, and which he was now
traveling for the fourth time. It appeared to him that he could almost
recognize the trace of his own steps upon the road, and that of his
first upon the doors of the hostelries;--his memory, always active and
present, brought back that youth which neither thirty years later his
great heart nor his wrist of steel would have belied. What a rich nature
was that of this man! He had all the passions, all the defects, all
the weaknesses, and the spirit of contradiction familiar to his
understanding changed all these imperfections into corresponding
qualities. D'Artagnan, thanks to his ever active imagination, was afraid
of a shadow; and ashamed of being afraid, he marched straight up to that
shadow, and then became extravagant in his bravery if the danger proved
to be real. Thus everything in him was emotion, and therefore enjoyment.
He loved the society of others, but never became tired of his own; and
more than once, if he could have been heard when he was alone, he might
have been seen laughing at the jokes he related to himself or the tricks
his imagination created just five minutes before ennui might have been
looked for. D'Artagnan was not perhaps so gay this time as he would have
been with the prospect of finding some good friends at Calais, instead
of joining the ten scamps there; melancholy, however, did not visit him
more than once a day, and it was about five visits that he received from
that somber deity before he got sight of the sea at Boulogne, and then
these visits were indeed but short. But when once D'Artagnan found
himself near the field of action, all other feelings but that of
confidence disappeared never to return. From Boulogne he followed the
coast to Calais. Calais was the place of general rendezvous, and at
Calais he had named to each of his recruits the hostelry of "Le Grand
Monarque," where living was not extravagant, where sailors m