y not
the more or less amusement we can find at Belle-Isle: what I regret,
Aramis, is Pierrefonds; Bracieux; le Vallon; beautiful France! Here, we
are not in France, my dear friend; we are--I know not where. Oh! I
tell you, in full sincerity of soul, and your affection will excuse my
frankness, but I declare to you I am not happy at Belle-Isle. No; in
good truth, I am not happy!"

Aramis breathed a long, but stifled sigh. "Dear friend," replied he:
"that is why it is so sad a thing you have sent the two boats we had
left in search of the boats which disappeared two days ago. If you had
not sent them away, we would have departed."

"'Departed!' And the orders, Aramis?"

"What orders?"

"_Parbleu!_ Why, the orders you have been constantly, in and out of
season, repeating to me--that we were to hold Belle-Isle against the
usurper. You know very well!"

"That is true!" murmured Aramis again.

"You see, then, plainly, my friend, that we could not depart; and that
the sending away of the boats in search of the others cannot prove
prejudicial to us in the very least."

Aramis was silent; and his vague glances, luminous as that of an
albatross, hovered for a long time over the sea, interrogating space,
seeking to pierce the very horizon.

"With all that, Aramis," continued Porthos, who adhered to his idea,
and that the more closely from the bishop having apparently endorsed
it,--"with all that, you give me no explanation about what can have
happened to these unfortunate boats. I am assailed by cries and
complaints whichever way I go. The children cry to see the desolation of
the women, as if I could restore the absent husbands and fathers. What
do you suppose, my friend, and how ought I to answer them?"

"Think all you like, my good Porthos, and say nothing."

This reply did not satisfy Porthos at all. He turned away grumbling
something in ill-humor. Aramis stopped the valiant musketeer. "Do you
remember," said he, in a melancholy tone, kneading the two hands of the
giant between his own with affectionate cordiality, "do you remember,
my friend, that in the glorious days of youth--do you remember, Porthos,
when we were all strong and valiant--we, and the other two--if we had
then had an inclination to return to France, do you think this sheet of
salt water would have stopped us?"

"Oh!" said Porthos; "but six leagues."

"If you had seen me get astride of a plank, would you have remained on
land, Porthos?"

"No