uainted with that tender, but inflexible, soul; he
could not hope to make it deviate from the fatal road it had just
chosen. He could only press the hand of the duc held out to him. "Comte,
I shall set off in two days for Toulon," said M. de Beaufort. "Will you
meet me at Paris, in order that I may know your determination?"

"I will have the honor of thanking you there, _mon prince_, for all your
kindnesses," replied the comte.

"And be sure to bring the vicomte with you, whether he follows me or
does not follow me," added the duc: "he has my word, and I only ask
yours."

Having thrown a little balm upon the wound of the paternal heart, he
pulled the ear of Grimaud, whose eyes sparkled more than usual, and
regained his escort in the _parterre_. The horses, rested and refreshed,
set off with spirit through this beautiful night, and soon placed a
considerable distance between their master and the chateau.

Athos and Bragelonne were again face to face. Eleven o'clock was
striking. The father and son preserved a profound silence toward each
other, where an intelligent observer would have expected cries and
tears. But these two men were of such a nature that all emotion plunged
itself where it was lost forever when they had resolved to confine it to
their own hearts. They passed, then, silently and almost breathlessly
the hour which preceded midnight. The clock, by striking, alone pointed
out to them how many minutes had lasted the painful journey made by
their souls in the immensity of the remembrances of the past and of the
fears of the future. Athos rose first, saying, "It is late--till
to-morrow."

Raoul rose, and in his turn embraced his father. The latter held him
clasped to his breast, and said in a tremulous voice, "In two days you
will have left me, then--left me forever, Raoul!"

"Monsieur," replied the young man, "I had formed a determination, that
of piercing my heart with my sword: but you would have thought that
cowardly. I have renounced that determination, and therefore we must
part."

"You leave me by going, Raoul."

"Listen to me again, monsieur, I implore you. If I do not go, I shall
die here of grief and love. I know how long a time I have to live thus.
Send me away quickly, monsieur, or you will see me basely die before
your eyes--in your house--this is stronger than my will--stronger than
my strength--you may plainly see that within one month I have lived
thirty years, and that I approach the