s moment Planchet brought out Athos's house; the Musketeer leaped
lightly into the saddle.

"Wait for me," cried he, "I will soon be back," and he set off at a
gallop.

In a quarter of an hour he returned, accompanied by a tall man, masked,
and wrapped in a large red cloak.

Lord de Winter and the three Musketeers looked at one another
inquiringly. Neither could give the others any information, for all were
ignorant who this man could be; nevertheless, they felt convinced that
all was as it should be, as it was done by the order of Athos.

At nine o'clock, guided by Planchet, the little cavalcade set out,
taking the route the carriage had taken.

It was a melancholy sight--that of these six men, traveling in
silence, each plunged in his own thoughts, sad as despair, gloomy as
chastisement.

65 TRIAL

It was a stormy and dark night; vast clouds covered the heavens,
concealing the stars; the moon would not rise till midnight.

Occasionally, by the light of a flash of lightning which gleamed along
the horizon, the road stretched itself before them, white and solitary;
the flash extinct, all remained in darkness.

Every minute Athos was forced to restrain d'Artagnan, constantly in
advance of the little troop, and to beg him to keep in the line, which
in an instant he again departed from. He had but one thought--to go
forward; and he went.

They passed in silence through the little village of Festubert, where
the wounded servant was, and then skirted the wood of Richebourg. At
Herlier, Planchet, who led the column, turned to the left.

Several times Lord de Winter, Porthos, or Aramis, tried to talk with the
man in the red cloak; but to every interrogation which they put to him
he bowed, without response. The travelers then comprehended that there
must be some reason why the unknown preserved such a silence, and ceased
to address themselves to him.

The storm increased, the flashes succeeded one another more rapidly,
the thunder began to growl, and the wind, the precursor of a hurricane,
whistled in the plumes and the hair of the horsemen.

The cavalcade trotted on more sharply.

A little before they came to Fromelles the storm burst. They spread
their cloaks. There remained three leagues to travel, and they did it
amid torrents of rain.

D'Artagnan took off his hat, and could not be persuaded to make use
of his cloak. He found pleasure in feeling the water trickle over his
burning brow and over his