son, you who have seen all that can be seen in this world! Why
have you this fear, Athos? Man upon this earth must expect everything,
and ought to face everything."

"Listen to me, my friend. After having worn myself out upon this earth
of which you speak, I have preserved but two religions: that of life,
friendship, my duty as a father--that of eternity, love, and respect for
God. Now, I have within me the revelation that if God should decree that
my friend or my son should render up his last sigh in my presence--oh!
no, I cannot even tell you, D'Artagnan!"

"Speak, speak, tell me!"

"I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I
love. For that only there is no remedy. He who dies, gains; he who sees
others die, loses. No, this is it--to know that I should no more meet on
earth him whom I now behold with joy; to know that there would nowhere
be a D'Artagnan any more, nowhere again be a Raoul, oh! I am old, look
you, I have no longer courage; I pray God to spare me in my weakness;
but if he struck me so plainly and in that fashion, I should curse him.
A Christian gentleman ought not to curse his God, D'Artagnan; it is
enough to once have cursed a king!"

"Humph!" sighed D'Artagnan, a little confused by this violent tempest of
grief.

"Let me speak to him, Athos. Who knows?"

"Try, if you please, but I am convinced you will not succeed."

"I will not attempt to console him. I will serve him."

"You will?"

"Doubtless, I will. Do you think this would be the first time a woman
had repented of an infidelity? I will go to him, I tell you."

Athos shook his head, and continued his walk alone, D'Artagnan, cutting
across the brambles, rejoined Raoul and held out his hand to him. "Well,
Raoul! You have something to say to me?"

"I have a kindness to ask of you," replied Bragelonne.

"Ask it, then."

"You will some day return to France?"

"I hope so."

"Ought I to write to Mademoiselle de la Valliere?"

"No, you must not."

"But I have many things to say to her."

"Go and say them to her, then."

"Never!"

"Pray, what virtue do you attribute to a letter, which your speech might
not possess?"

"Perhaps you are right."

"She loves the king," said D'Artagnan, bluntly; "and she is an honest
girl." Raoul started. "And you, you whom she abandons, she, perhaps,
loves better than she does the king, but after another fashion."

"D'Artagnan, do you believe she loves the king?"

"To id