already written
to him; but, preserving until the conclusion that calm, unruffled
composure of manner which constituted the almost superhuman side of his
character, he replied, "Raoul, I do not believe there is a word of truth
in the rumors; I do not believe in the existence of what you fear,
although I do not deny that persons most entitled to the fullest credit
have already conversed with me on the subject. In my heart and soul I
think it utterly impossible that the king could be guilty of such an
outrage upon a gentleman. I will answer for the king, therefore, and
will soon bring you back the proof of what I say."

Raoul, wavering like a drunken man between what he had seen with his own
eyes, and the imperturbable faith he had in a man who had never told a
falsehood, bowed, and simply answered, "Go, then, Monsieur le Comte; I
will await your return." And he sat down, burying his face in his hands.
Athos dressed, and then left him, in order to wait upon the king; the
result of that interview is already known to our readers.

When he returned to his lodgings, Raoul, pale and dejected, had not
quitted his attitude of despair. At the sound, however, of the opening
doors, and of his father's footsteps as he approached him, the young man
raised his head. Athos' face was very pale, his head uncovered, and his
manner full of seriousness; he gave his cloak and hat to the lackey,
dismissed him with a gesture, and sat down near Raoul.

"Well, monsieur," inquired the young man, "are you quite convinced now?"

"I am, Raoul; the king loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere."

"He confesses it, then?" cried Raoul.

"Yes," replied Athos.

"And she?"

"I have not seen her."

"No; but the king spoke to you about her. What did he say?"

"He says that she loves him."

"Oh, you see--you see, monsieur!" said the young man, with a gesture of
despair.

"Raoul," resumed the comte, "I told the king, believe me, all that you
yourself could possibly have said; and I believe I did so in becoming
language, though sufficiently firm."

"And what did you say to him, monsieur?"

"I told him, Raoul, that everything was now at an end between him and
ourselves; that you would never serve him again. I told him that I, too,
should remain aloof. Nothing further remains for me, then, than to be
satisfied of one thing."

"What is that, monsieur?"

"Whether you have determined to adopt any steps."

"Any steps? Regarding what?"

"With refere