hat will
console him. As to the horse, ride him a little every day, and that will
accustom you to his maneuvers."

"Oh, make yourself easy on that head," replied Aramis. "You will find me
ready to follow you."

They took leave of each other, and in ten minutes, after having
commended his friend to the cares of the hostess and Bazin, d'Artagnan
was trotting along in the direction of Amiens.

How was he going to find Athos? Should he find him at all? The position
in which he had left him was critical. He probably had succumbed. This
idea, while darkening his brow, drew several sighs from him, and caused
him to formulate to himself a few vows of vengeance. Of all his friends,
Athos was the eldest, and the least resembling him in appearance, in his
tastes and sympathies.

Yet he entertained a marked preference for this gentleman. The noble and
distinguished air of Athos, those flashes of greatness which from time
to time broke out from the shade in which he voluntarily kept himself,
that unalterable equality of temper which made him the most pleasant
companion in the world, that forced and cynical gaiety, that bravery
which might have been termed blind if it had not been the result of the
rarest coolness--such qualities attracted more than the esteem, more
than the friendship of d'Artagnan; they attracted his admiration.

Indeed, when placed beside M. de Treville, the elegant and noble
courtier, Athos in his most cheerful days might advantageously sustain
a comparison. He was of middle height; but his person was so admirably
shaped and so well proportioned that more than once in his struggles
with Porthos he had overcome the giant whose physical strength was
proverbial among the Musketeers. His head, with piercing eyes, a
straight nose, a chin cut like that of Brutus, had altogether an
indefinable character of grandeur and grace. His hands, of which he took
little care, were the despair of Aramis, who cultivated his with almond
paste and perfumed oil. The sound of his voice was at once penetrating
and melodious; and then, that which was inconceivable in Athos, who was
always retiring, was that delicate knowledge of the world and of the
usages of the most brilliant society--those manners of a high degree
which appeared, as if unconsciously to himself, in his least actions.

If a repast were on foot, Athos presided over it better than any other,
placing every guest exactly in the rank which his ancestors had earned
for