it to let the magnificence of the cannon's roar make itself heard in the
ears of one who loves repose and the quiet of the country. Monseigneur,
I have your happiness spread out before me in my thoughts; listen to my
words; precious they indeed are, in their import and their sense,
for you who look with such tender regard upon the bright heavens, the
verdant meadows, the pure air. I know a country instinct with
delights of every kind, an unknown paradise, a secluded corner of the
world--where alone, unfettered and unknown, in the thick covert of the
woods, amidst flowers, and streams of rippling water, you will forget
all the misery that human folly has so recently allotted you. Oh! listen
to me, my prince. I do not jest. I have a heart, and mind, and soul, and
can read your own,--aye, even to its depths. I will not take you unready
for your task, in order to cast you into the crucible of my own desires,
of my caprice, or my ambition. Let it be all or nothing. You are chilled
and galled, sick at heart, overcome by excess of the emotions which but
one hour's liberty has produced in you. For me, that is a certain and
unmistakable sign that you do not wish to continue at liberty. Would you
prefer a more humble life, a life more suited to your strength? Heaven
is my witness, that I wish your happiness to be the result of the trial
to which I have exposed you."

"Speak, speak," said the prince, with a vivacity which did not escape
Aramis.

"I know," resumed the prelate, "in the Bas-Poitou, a canton, of which
no one in France suspects the existence. Twenty leagues of country is
immense, is it not? Twenty leagues, monseigneur, all covered with water
and herbage, and reeds of the most luxuriant nature; the whole studded
with islands covered with woods of the densest foliage. These large
marshes, covered with reeds as with a thick mantle, sleep silently and
calmly beneath the sun's soft and genial rays. A few fishermen with
their families indolently pass their lives away there, with their great
living-rafts of poplar and alder, the flooring formed of reeds, and the
roof woven out of thick rushes. These barks, these floating-houses, are
wafted to and fro by the changing winds. Whenever they touch a bank, it
is but by chance; and so gently, too, that the sleeping fisherman is not
awakened by the shock. Should he wish to land, it is merely because he
has seen a large flight of landrails or plovers, of wild ducks, teal,
widgeon, o