comte, "that from this moment
in which we separate, a portion of both our souls should not travel with
one and the other of us, and should not dwell where-ever we may dwell.
Whenever you may be sad, Raoul, I feel that my heart will be drowned in
sadness; and when you smile on thinking of me, be assured you will send
me, from however remote a distance, a ray of your joy."

"I will not promise you to be joyous," replied the young man: "but you
may be certain that I will never pass an hour without thinking of you,
not one hour, I swear, unless I be dead."

Athos could contain himself no longer: he threw his arm round the neck
of his son, and held him embraced with all the powers of his heart. The
moon began to be now eclipsed by twilight; a golden band surrounded the
horizon, announcing the approach of day. Athos threw his cloak over the
shoulders of Raoul, and led him back to the city, where burdens and
porters were already in motion, like a vast ant-hill. At the extremity
of the plateau, which Athos and Bragelonne were quitting, they saw a
dark shadow moving uneasily backward and forward, as if in indecision or
ashamed to be seen. It was Grimaud, who, in his anxiety, had tracked his
master, and was waiting for him.

"Oh! my good Grimaud," cried Raoul, "what do you want? You are come to
tell us it is time to be gone, have you not?"

"Alone?" said Grimaud, addressing Athos, and pointing to Raoul in a tone
of reproach, which showed to what an extent the old man was troubled.

"Oh! you are right!" cried the comte. "No, Raoul, do not go alone; no,
he shall not be left alone in a strange land, without some friendly hand
to support him, some friendly heart to recall to him all he loved!"

"I?" said Grimaud.

"You, yes, you!" cried Raoul, touched to his inmost heart.

"Alas!" said Athos, "you are very old, my good Grimaud."

"So much the better," replied the latter, with an inexpressible depth of
feeling and intelligence.

"But the embarkation is begun," said Raoul, "and you are not prepared."

"Yes," said Grimaud, showing the keys of his trunks, mixed with those of
his young master.

"But," again objected Raoul, "you cannot leave M. le Comte thus alone:
M. le Comte, whom you have never quitted?"

Grimaud turned his dimmed eyes upon Athos and Raoul, as if to measure
the strength of both. The comte uttered not a word.

"M. le Comte will prefer my going," said Grimaud.

"I should," said Athos, by an inclination o