I presumed to fancy. He is worth the trouble of
traveling to see him nearer."

"We set out at half-past five," said the fisherman gravely.

"I am quite ready, and I will not leave you now." So D'Artagnan saw the
fishermen haul their barks to meet the tide with a windlass. The sea
rose, M. Agnan allowed himself to be hoisted on board, not without
sporting a little fear and awkwardness, to the amusement of the young
beach-urchins who watched him with their large intelligent eyes. He laid
himself down upon a folded sail, not interfering with anything whilst
the bark prepared for sea; and, with its large, square sail, it was
fairly out within two hours. The fishermen, who prosecuted their
occupation as they proceeded, did not perceive that their passenger had
not become pale, neither groaned nor suffered; that in spite of that
horrible tossing and rolling of the bark, to which no hand imparted
direction, the novice passenger had preserved his presence of mind and
his appetite. They fished, and their fishing was sufficiently fortunate.
To lines bated with prawn, soles came, with numerous gambols, to bite.
Two nets had already been broken by the immense weight of congers and
haddocks; three sea-eels plowed the hold with their slimy folds and
their dying contortions. D'Artagnan brought them good luck; they told
him so. The soldier found the occupation so pleasant, that he put his
hand to the work--that is to say, to the lines--and uttered roars of
joy, and mordioux enough to have astonished his musketeers themselves
every time that a shock given to his line by the captured fish required
the play of the muscles of his arm, and the employment of his best
dexterity. The party of pleasure had made him forget his diplomatic
mission. He was struggling with a very large conger, and holding fast
with one hand to the side of the vessel, in order to seize with the
other the gaping jowl of his antagonist, when the master said to him,
"Take care they don't see you from Belle-Isle!"

These words produced the same effect upon D'Artagnan as the hissing of
the first bullet on a day of battle; he let go of both line and conger,
which, dragging each other, returned again to the water. D'Artagnan
perceived, within half a league at most, the blue and marked profile
of the rocks of Belle-Isle, dominated by the majestic whiteness of the
castle. In the distance, the land with its forests and verdant plains;
cattle on the grass. This was what firs