aoul?"

"Every night, monsieur. During my early youth I saw you in my dreams,
calm and mild, with one hand stretched out over my head, and that it was
which made me sleep so soundly--formerly."

"We love each other too dearly," said the comte, "that from this moment,
in which we separate, a portion of both our souls should not travel with
one and the other of us, and should not dwell wherever we may dwell.
Whenever you may be sad, Raoul, I feel that my heart will be dissolved
in sadness; and when you smile on thinking of me, be assured you will
send me, from however remote a distance, a vital scintillation of your
joy."

"I will not promise you to be joyous," replied the young man; "but you
may be certain that I will never pass an hour without thinking of you,
not one hour, I swear, unless I shall be dead."

Athos could contain himself no longer; he threw his arm round the neck
of his son, and held him embraced with all the power of his heart. The
moon began to be now eclipsed by twilight; a golden band surrounded the
horizon, announcing the approach of the day. Athos threw his cloak over
the shoulders of Raoul, and led him back to the city, where burdens and
porters were already in motion, like a vast ant-hill. At the extremity
of the plateau which Athos and Bragelonne were quitting, they saw a dark
shadow moving uneasily backwards and forwards, as if in indecision or
ashamed to be seen. It was Grimaud, who in his anxiety had tracked his
master, and was there awaiting him.

"Oh! my good Grimaud," cried Raoul, "what do you want? You are come to
tell us it is time to be gone, have you not?"

"Alone?" said Grimaud, addressing Athos and pointing to Raoul in a tone
of reproach, which showed to what an extent the old man was troubled.

"Oh! you are right!" cried the comte. "No, Raoul shall not go alone; no,
he shall not be left alone in a strange land without some friendly hand
to support him, some friendly heart to recall to him all he loved!"

"I?" said Grimaud.

"You, yes, you!" cried Raoul, touched to the inmost heart.

"Alas!" said Athos, "you are very old, my good Grimaud."

"So much the better," replied the latter, with an inexpressible depth of
feeling and intelligence.

"But the embarkation is begun," said Raoul, "and you are not prepared."

"Yes," said Grimaud, showing the keys of his trunks, mixed with those of
his young master.

"But," again objected Raoul, "you cannot leave monsieur le comte thus