ned in his service in
a thoroughly peculiar fashion, and who was named Grimaud. He was very
taciturn, this worthy signor. Be it understood we are speaking of Athos.
During the five or six years that he had lived in the strictest intimacy
with his companions, Porthos and Aramis, they could remember having
often seen him smile, but had never heard him laugh. His words were
brief and expressive, conveying all that was meant, and no more; no
embellishments, no embroidery, no arabesques. His conversation a matter
of fact, without a single romance.

Although Athos was scarcely thirty years old, and was of great personal
beauty and intelligence of mind, no one knew whether he had ever had a
mistress. He never spoke of women. He certainly did not prevent others
from speaking of them before him, although it was easy to perceive that
this kind of conversation, in which he only mingled by bitter words and
misanthropic remarks, was very disagreeable to him. His reserve, his
roughness, and his silence made almost an old man of him. He had, then,
in order not to disturb his habits, accustomed Grimaud to obey him upon
a simple gesture or upon a simple movement of his lips. He never spoke
to him, except under the most extraordinary occasions.

Sometimes, Grimaud, who feared his master as he did fire, while
entertaining a strong attachment to his person and a great veneration
for his talents, believed he perfectly understood what he wanted, flew
to execute the order received, and did precisely the contrary. Athos
then shrugged his shoulders, and, without putting himself in a passion,
thrashed Grimaud. On these days he spoke a little.

Porthos, as we have seen, had a character exactly opposite to that of
Athos. He not only talked much, but he talked loudly, little caring, we
must render him that justice, whether anybody listened to him or not.
He talked for the pleasure of talking and for the pleasure of hearing
himself talk. He spoke upon all subjects except the sciences, alleging
in this respect the inveterate hatred he had borne to scholars from his
childhood. He had not so noble an air as Athos, and the commencement of
their intimacy often rendered him unjust toward that gentleman, whom
he endeavored to eclipse by his splendid dress. But with his simple
Musketeer's uniform and nothing but the manner in which he threw back
his head and advanced his foot, Athos instantly took the place which
was his due and consigned the ostentatious