eturning to them; there was nothing to
be done, therefore he turned upon his heel like an unemployed heron,
appearing to question earth, air, and water about it; shook his head,
and walked away mechanically in the direction of the gardens. He had
hardly gone a hundred paces when he met two young men, walking arm in
arm, with their heads bent down, and idly kicking the small stones out
of their path as they walked on, plunged in thought. It was De Guiche
and De Bragelonne, the sight of whom, as it always did, produced upon
the chevalier, instinctively, a feeling of repugnance. He did not,
however, the less, on that account, salute them with a very low bow,
which they returned with interest. Then, observing that the park was
nearly deserted, that the illuminations began to burn out, and that the
morning breeze was setting in, he turned to the left, and entered the
chateau again, by one of the smaller courtyards. The others turned aside
to the right, and continued on their way towards the large park. As the
chevalier was ascending the side staircase, which led to the private
entrance, he saw a woman, followed by another, make her appearance under
the arcade which led from the small to the large courtyard. The two
women walked so fast that the rustling of their dresses could be
distinguished through the silence of the night. The style of their
mantles, their graceful figures, a mysterious yet haughty carriage which
distinguished them both, especially the one who walked first, struck the
chevalier.

"I certainly know those two," he said to himself, pausing upon the top
step of the small staircase. Then, as with the instinct of a bloodhound
he was about to follow them, one of the servants who had been running
after him arrested his attention.

"Monsieur," he said, "the courier has arrived."

"Very well," said the chevalier, "there is time enough; to-morrow will
do."

"There are some urgent letters which you would be glad to see, perhaps."

"Where from?" inquired the chevalier.

"One from England, and the other from Calais; the latter arrived by
express, and seems of great importance."

"From Calais! Who the deuce can have to write to me from Calais?"

"I think I recognize the handwriting of Monsieur le Comte de Wardes."

"Oh!" cried the chevalier, forgetting his intention of acting the
spy, "in that case I will come up at once." This he did, while the two
unknown beings disappeared at the end of the court opposite t