d remain in the hearts of those present, and in the memory of other
men--a death which caused to be loved the passage from this life to the
other by those whose existence upon this earth leads them not to dread
the last judgment. Athos preserved, even in the eternal sleep, that
placid and sincere smile--an ornament which was to accompany him to the
tomb. The quietude and calm of his fine features made his servants for
a long time doubt whether he had really quitted life. The comte's people
wished to remove Grimaud, who, from a distance, devoured the face now
quickly growing marble-pale, and did not approach, from pious fear of
bringing to him the breath of death. But Grimaud, fatigued as he was,
refused to leave the room. He sat himself down upon the threshold,
watching his master with the vigilance of a sentinel, jealous to receive
either his first waking look or his last dying sigh. The noises all were
quiet in the house--every one respected the slumber of their lord. But
Grimaud, by anxiously listening, perceived that the comte no longer
breathed. He raised himself with his hands leaning on the ground, looked
to see if there did not appear some motion in the body of his master.
Nothing! Fear seized him; he rose completely up, and, at the very
moment, heard some one coming up the stairs. A noise of spurs knocking
against a sword--a warlike sound familiar to his ears--stopped him as he
was going towards the bed of Athos. A voice more sonorous than brass or
steel resounded within three paces of him.

"Athos! Athos! my friend!" cried this voice, agitated even to tears.

"Monsieur le Chevalier d'Artagnan," faltered out Grimaud.

"Where is he? Where is he?" continued the musketeer. Grimaud seized
his arm in his bony fingers, and pointed to the bed, upon the sheets of
which the livid tints of death already showed.

A choked respiration, the opposite to a sharp cry, swelled the throat of
D'Artagnan. He advanced on tip-toe, trembling, frightened at the noise
his feet made on the floor, his heart rent by a nameless agony. He
placed his ear to the breast of Athos, his face to the comte's mouth.
Neither noise, nor breath! D'Artagnan drew back. Grimaud, who had
followed him with his eyes, and for whom each of his movements had been
a revelation, came timidly; seated himself at the foot of the bed, and
glued his lips to the sheet which was raised by the stiffened feet of
his master. Then large drops began to flow from his red ey