ll."
The lieutenant made a sign to the other two officers.
"No, monsieur," said he, "no; in your turn you go too far. The general
has nothing to suffer from these events, and, no doubt, has directed
them. What Monk is now doing he has often done before. We are wrong in
alarming ourselves; his absence will, doubtless, be of short duration;
therefore, let us beware, lest by a pusillanimity which the general
would consider a crime, of making his absence public, and by that
means demoralize the army. The general gives a striking proof of his
confidence in us; let us show ourselves worthy of it. Gentlemen, let the
most profound silence cover all this with an impenetrable veil; we
will detain this gentleman, not from mistrust of him with regard to
the crime, but to assure more effectively the secret of the general's
absence by keeping among ourselves; therefore, until fresh orders, the
gentleman will remain at headquarters."
"Gentlemen," said Athos, "you forget that last night the general
confided to me a deposit over which I am bound to watch. Give me
whatever guard you like, chain me if you like, but leave me the house I
inhabit for my prison. The general, on his return, would reproach you, I
swear on the honor of a gentleman, for having displeased him in this."
"So be it, monsieur," said the lieutenant; "return to your abode."
Then they placed over Athos a guard of fifty men, who surrounded his
house, without losing sight of him for a minute.
The secret remained secure, but hours, days passed away without the
general's returning, or without anything being heard of him.
CHAPTER 28. Smuggling
Two days after the events we have just related, and while General Monk
was expected every minute in the camp to which he did not return, a
little Dutch felucca, manned by eleven men, cast anchor upon the coast
of Scheveningen, nearly within cannon-shot of the port. It was night,
the darkness was great, the tide rose in the darkness; it was a capital
time to land passengers and merchandise.
The road of Scheveningen forms a vast crescent; it is not very deep
and not very safe; therefore, nothing is seen stationed there but large
Flemish hoys, or some of those Dutch barks which fishermen draw up on
the sand on rollers, as the ancients did, according to Virgil. When the
tide is rising, and advancing on land, it is not prudent to bring the
vessels too close inshore, for, if the wind is fresh, the prows are
buried
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