l shall do
just as he likes."

"Oh! no, monsieur, just as you like," interrupted the young man.

"By la Corbleu!" said the prince in his turn, "it is neither the comte
nor the vicomte that shall have his way, it is I. I will take him away.
The marine offers a superb future, my friend."

Raoul smiled again so sadly, that this time Athos felt his heart
penetrated by it, and replied to him by a severe look. Raoul
comprehended it all; he recovered his calmness, and was so guarded that
not another word escaped him. The duc at length rose, on observing the
advanced hour, and said with much animation, "I am in great haste, but
if I am told I have lost time in talking with a friend, I will reply I
have gained a good recruit."

"Pardon me, Monsieur le Duc," interrupted Raoul, "do not tell the king
so, for it is not the king I will serve."

"Eh! My friend, whom then will you serve? The times are past when you
might have said, 'I belong to M. de Beaufort.' No, nowadays, we all
belong to the king, great or small. Therefore, if you serve on board my
vessels, there can be nothing equivocal in it, my dear vicomte; it will
be the king you will serve."

Athos waited with a kind of impatient joy for the reply about to be made
to this embarrassing question by Raoul, the intractable enemy of the
king, his rival. The father hoped that the obstacle would overcome the
desire. He was thankful to M. de Beaufort, whose lightness or generous
reflection had thrown an impediment in the way of the departure of a son
now his only joy. But Raoul, still firm and tranquil: "Monsieur le Duc,"
replied he, "the objection you make I have already considered in my
mind. I will serve on board your vessels, because you do me the honor to
take me with you; but I shall there serve a more powerful master than
the king, I shall serve God!"

"God! how so?" said the duc and Athos together.

"My intention is to make profession, and become a Knight of Malta,"
added Bragelonne, letting fall, one by one, words more icy than the
drops which fall from the bare trees after the tempests of winter.

Under this blow Athos staggered and the prince himself was moved.
Grimaud uttered a heavy groan, and let fall the bottle, which was broken
without anybody paying attention to it. M. de Beaufort looked the young
man in the face, and read plainly, though his eyes were cast down, the
fire of resolution before which everything must give way. As to Athos,
he was too well acq