opped him. "Let us sit down upon this rock," said he.
"Place yourself there, close to me, Aramis, and I conjure you, for the
last time, to explain to me in a manner I can comprehend--explain to me
what we are doing here."

"Porthos," said Aramis, much embarrassed.

"I know that the false king wished to dethrone the true king. That is a
fact, that I understand. Well--"

"Yes," said Aramis.

"I know that the false king formed the project of selling Belle-Isle to
the English. I understand that too."

"Yes."

"I know that we engineers and captains came and threw ourselves into
Belle-Isle to take the direction of the works, and the command of the
ten companies levied and paid by M. Fouquet, or rather the ten companies
of his son-in-law. All that is plain."

Aramis arose in a state of great impatience. He might be said to be a
lion importuned by a gnat. Porthos held him by the arm. "But what I
cannot understand, what, in spite of all the efforts of my mind, and all
my reflections, I cannot comprehend, and never shall comprehend, is,
that instead of sending us troops, instead of sending us re-enforcements
of men, munitions, and provisions, they leave us without boats, they
leave Belle-Isle without arrivals, without help; it is that instead of
establishing with us a correspondence, whether by signals, or written or
verbal communications, all relations with us are intercepted. Tell me,
Aramis, answer me, or rather, before answering me, will you allow me to
tell you what I have thought? Will you hear what my idea is, what
imagination I have conceived?"

The bishop raised his head. "Well! Aramis," continued Porthos, "I have
thought, I have had an idea, I have imagined that an event has taken
place in France. I dreamed of M. Fouquet all the night; I dreamed of
dead fish, broken eggs, chambers badly furnished, meanly kept. Bad
dreams, my dear D'Herblay; very unlucky, such dreams!"

"Porthos, what is that yonder?" interrupted Aramis, rising suddenly,
and pointing out to his friend a black spot upon the empurpled line of
the water.

"A bark!" said Porthos; "yes, it is a bark! Ah! we shall have some news
at last."

"There are two!" cried the bishop, on discovering another mast; "two!
three! four!"

"Five!" said Porthos, in his turn. "Six! seven! Ah! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!
it is a whole fleet!"

"Our boats returning, probably," said Aramis, very uneasily, in spite of
the assurance he affected.

"They are very large for