ive the
survivors. To such a point did the illusion extend, that this vision
was for him a real voyage made by the father into Africa, to obtain more
exact information respecting his son.

Fatigued, therefore, with having traversed seas and continents, he
sought repose under one of the tents sheltered behind a rock, on the
top of which floated the white _fleur-de-lised_ pennon. He looked for
a soldier to conduct him to the tent of M. de Beaufort. Then, while his
eye was wandering over the plain, turning on all sides, he saw a white
form appear behind the scented myrtles. This figure was clothed in the
costume of an officer; it held in its hand a broken sword; it advanced
slowly towards Athos, who, stopping short and fixing his eyes upon it,
neither spoke nor moved, but wished to open his arms, because in this
silent officer he had already recognized Raoul. The comte attempted to
utter a cry, but it was stifled in his throat. Raoul, with a gesture,
directed him to be silent, placing his finger on his lips and drawing
back by degrees, without Athos being able to see his legs move. The
comte, still paler than Raoul, followed his son, painfully traversing
briers and bushes, stones and ditches, Raoul not appearing to touch the
earth, no obstacle seeming to impede the lightness of his march.
The comte, whom the inequalities of the path fatigued, soon stopped,
exhausted. Raoul still continued to beckon him to follow him. The tender
father, to whom love restored strength, made a last effort, and climbed
the mountain after the young man, who attracted him by gesture and by
smile.

At length he gained the crest of the hill, and saw, thrown out in black,
upon the horizon whitened by the moon, the aerial form of Raoul.
Athos reached forth his hand to get closer to his beloved son upon the
plateau, and the latter also stretched out his; but suddenly, as if the
young man had been drawn away in his own despite, still retreating, he
left the earth, and Athos saw the clear blue sky shine between the feet
of his child and the ground of the hill. Raoul rose insensibly into the
void, smiling, still calling with gesture:--he departed towards heaven.
Athos uttered a cry of tenderness and terror. He looked below again. He
saw a camp destroyed, and all those white bodies of the royal army, like
so many motionless atoms. And, then, raising his head, he saw the figure
of his son still beckoning him to climb the mystic void.

Chapter LVIII