pardon me, there is a house on fire!"

Monk raised his eyes, and perceived there was, in fact, a house which
the flames were beginning to devour. It had begun at a little shed
belonging to the house, the roof of which had caught. The fresh evening
breeze agitated the fire. The two travelers quickened their steps,
hearing loud cries, and seeing, as they drew nearer, soldiers with their
glittering arms pointing towards the house on fire. It was doubtless
this menacing occupation which had made them neglect to signal the
felucca. Monk stopped short for an instant, and, for the first time,
formulated his thoughts into words. "Eh! but," said he, "perhaps they
are not my soldiers, but Lambert's."

These words contained at once a sorrow, an apprehension, and a reproach
perfectly intelligible to D'Artagnan. In fact, during the general's
absence, Lambert might have given battle, conquered, and dispersed the
parliament's army, and taken with his own the place of Monk's army,
deprived of its strongest support. At this doubt, which passed from the
mind of Monk to his own, D'Artagnan reasoned in this manner: "One of two
things is going to happen; either Monk has spoken correctly, and there
are no longer any but Lambertists in the country--that is to say,
enemies, who would receive me wonderfully well, since it is to me they
owe their victory; or nothing is changed, and Monk, transported with joy
at finding his camp still in the same place, will not prove too severe
in his settlement with me." Whilst thinking thus, the two travelers
advanced, and began to mingle with a little knot of sailors, who looked
on with sorrow at the burning house, but did not dare to say anything on
account of the threats of the soldiers.

Monk addressed one of these sailors:--"What is going on here?" asked he.

"Sir," replied the man, not recognizing Monk as an officer, under
the thick cloak which enveloped him, "that house was inhabited by a
foreigner, and this foreigner became suspected by the soldiers. They
wanted to get into his house under pretense of taking him to the camp;
but he, without being frightened by their number, threatened death to
the first who should cross the threshold of his door, and as there was
one who did venture, the Frenchman stretched him on the earth with a
pistol-shot."

"Ah! he is a Frenchman, is he?" said D'Artagnan, rubbing his hands.
"Good!"

"How good?" replied the fisherman.

"No, I don't mean that.--What then--m