ght uttered from
the depths of the forest that prolonged and plaintive cry which makes
every creature tremble.

"I will exile the deposed king," said Philippe, shuddering; "'twill be
more human."

"The king's good pleasure will decide the point," said Aramis. "But has
the problem been well put? Have I brought out of the solution according
to the wishes or the foresight of your royal highness?"

"Yes, monsieur, yes; you have forgotten nothing--except, indeed, two
things."

"The first?"

"Let us speak of it at once, with the same frankness we have already
conversed in. Let us speak of the causes which may bring about the ruin
of all the hopes we have conceived. Let us speak of the risks we are
running."

"They would be immense, infinite, terrific, insurmountable, if, as I
have said, all things did not concur to render them of absolutely no
account. There is no danger either for you or for me, if the constancy
and intrepidity of your royal highness are equal to that perfection of
resemblance to your brother which nature has bestowed upon you. I repeat
it, there are no dangers, only obstacles; a word, indeed, which I find
in all languages, but have always ill-understood, and, were I king,
would have obliterated as useless and absurd."

"Yes, indeed, monsieur; there is a very serious obstacle, an
insurmountable danger, which you are forgetting."

"Ah!" said Aramis.

"There is conscience, which cries aloud; remorse, that never dies."

"True, true," said the bishop; "there is a weakness of heart of which
you remind me. You are right, too, for that, indeed, is an immense
obstacle. The horse afraid of the ditch, leaps into the middle of it,
and is killed! The man who trembling crosses his sword with that of
another leaves loopholes whereby his enemy has him in his power."

"Have you a brother?" said the young man to Aramis.

"I am alone in the world," said the latter, with a hard, dry voice.

"But, surely, there is some one in the world whom you love?" added
Philippe.

"No one!--Yes, I love you."

The young man sank into so profound a silence, that the mere sound of
his respiration seemed like a roaring tumult for Aramis. "Monseigneur,"
he resumed, "I have not said all I had to say to your royal highness;
I have not offered you all the salutary counsels and useful resources
which I have at my disposal. It is useless to flash bright visions
before the eyes of one who seeks and loves darkness: useless, too, is