indeed; you were unaware, then, that the comte had seen his
majesty?" inquired Raoul, half reassured.

"Yes, indeed, quite so."

"In that case, I am less uneasy," said Raoul.

"Uneasy--and about what?" inquired Athos.

"Forgive me, monsieur," said Raoul, "but knowing so well the regard
and affection you have for me, I was afraid you might possibly have
expressed somewhat plainly to his majesty my own sufferings and your
indignation, and that the king had consequently--"

"And that the king had consequently?" repeated D'Artagnan; "well, go on,
finish what you were going to say."

"I have now to ask you to forgive me, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Raoul.
"For a moment, and I cannot help confessing it, I trembled lest you had
come here, not as M. d'Artagnan, but as captain of the musketeers."

"You are mad, my poor boy," cried D'Artagnan, with a burst of laughter,
in which an exact observer might perhaps have wished to have heard a
little more frankness.

"So much the better," said Raoul.

"Yes, mad; and do you know what I would advise you to do?"

"Tell me, monsieur, for the advice is sure to be good, as it comes from
you."

"Very good, then; I advise you, after your long journey from England,
after your visit to M. de Guiche, after your visit to Madame, after your
visit to Porthos, after your journey to Vincennes, I advise you, I say,
to take a few hours' rest; go and lie down, sleep for a dozen hours, and
when you wake up, go and ride one of my horses until you have tired him
to death."

And drawing Raoul towards him, he embraced him as he would have done his
own child. Athos did the like; only it was very visible that the kiss
was still more affectionate, and the pressure of his lips even warmer
with the father than with the friend. The young man again looked at both
his companions, endeavoring to penetrate their real meaning or their
real feelings with the utmost strength of his intelligence; but his look
was powerless upon the smiling countenance of the musketeer or upon
the calm and composed features of the Comte de la Fere. "Where are you
going, Raoul?" inquired the latter, seeing that Bragelonne was preparing
to go out.

"To my own apartments," replied the latter, in his soft, sad voice.

"We shall be sure to find you there, then, if we should have anything to
say to you?"

"Yes, monsieur; but do you suppose it likely you will have something to
say to me?"

"How can I tell?" said Athos.

"Yes,