spread
all over the tent.

"Are you ready, monsieur?" said Monk to Athos, who had turned away, not
to expose his face to the light.

"Yes, general," replied he.

"Ah! the French gentleman!" said the leader of the fishermen to
himself. "Peste! I have a great mind to charge you with the commission,
Menneville; he may know me. Light! light!" This dialogue was pronounced
at the back of the tent, and in so low a voice that Monk could not hear
a syllable of it; he was, besides, talking with Athos. Menneville got
himself ready in the meantime, or rather received the orders of his
leader.

"Well?" said Monk.

"I am ready, general," said the fisherman.

Monk, Athos, and the fisherman left the tent.

"It is impossible!" thought Athos. "What dream could put that into my
head?"

"Go forward; follow the middle causeway, and stretch out your legs,"
said Monk to the fisherman.

They were not twenty paces on their way when the same shadow that had
appeared to enter the tent came out of it again, crawled along as far
as the piles, and, protected by that sort of parapet placed along
the causeway, carefully observed the march of the general. All three
disappeared in the night haze. They were walking towards Newcastle, the
white stones of which appeared to them like sepulchres. After standing
for a few seconds under the porch, they penetrated into the interior.
The door had been broken open by hatchets. A post of four men slept in
safety in a corner, so certain were they that the attack would not take
place on that side.

"Will not these men be in your way?" said Monk to Athos.

"On the contrary, monsieur, they will assist in rolling out the barrels,
if your honor will permit them."

"You are right."

The post, though fast asleep, roused up at the first steps of the three
visitors amongst the briars and grass that invaded the porch. Monk gave
the password, and penetrated into the interior of the convent, preceded
by the light. He walked last, watching the least movement of Athos, his
naked dirk in his sleeve, and ready to plunge it into the back of the
gentleman at the first suspicious gesture he should see him make. But
Athos, with a firm and sure step, crossed the chambers and courts.

Not a door, not a window was left in this building. The doors had been
burnt, some on the spot, and the charcoal of them was still jagged with
the action of the fire, which had gone out of itself, powerless, no
doubt, to get to the hear