aching terror
and misfortune; but confident in his own strength, which was confirmed
by the force of an overpowering resolute determination, he waited until
some decisive circumstance should permit him to judge for himself. He
hoped that some imminent danger would be revealed for him, like those
phosphoric lights of the tempest which show the sailors the altitude of
the waves against which they have to struggle. But nothing approached.
Silence, the mortal enemy of restless hearts, the mortal enemy of
ambitious minds, shrouded in the thickness of its gloom during the
remainder of the night the future king of France, who lay there
sheltered beneath his stolen crown. Toward the morning a shadow, rather
than a body, glided into the royal chamber; Philippe expected his
approach, and neither expressed nor exhibited any surprise.

"Well, M. d'Herblay?" he said.

"Well, sire, all is done."

"How?"

"Exactly as we expected."

"Did he resist?"

"Terribly! tears and entreaties."

"And then?"

"A perfect stupor."

"But, at last?"

"Oh! at last, a complete victory, and absolute silence."

"Did the governor of the Bastille suspect anything?"

"Nothing."

"The resemblance, however--"

"That was the cause of the success."

"But the prisoner cannot fail to explain himself. Think well of that. I
have myself been able to do that, on a former occasion."

"I have already provided for everything. In a few days, sooner if
necessary, we will take the captive out of his prison, and will send him
out of the country, to a place of exile so remote--"

"People can return from their exile, Monsieur d'Herblay."

"To a place of exile so distant, I was going to say, that human strength
and the duration of human life would not be enough for his return."

And once more a cold look of intelligence passed between Aramis and the
young king.

"And M. de Valon?" asked Philippe, in order to change the conversation.

"He will be presented to you to-day, and confidentially will
congratulate you on the danger which that conspirator has made you run."

"What is to be done with him?"

"With M. de Valon?"

"Yes; confer a dukedom on him, I suppose."

"A dukedom," replied Aramis, smiling in a significant manner.

"Why do you laugh, Monsieur d'Herblay?"

"I laugh at the extreme caution of your idea."

"Cautious, why so?"

"Your majesty is doubtless afraid that that poor Porthos may probably
become a troublesome witness, and you w