spered Porthos, timidly, in Aramis'
ear.

"My dear friend, you will comprehend but too soon," murmured M.
d'Herblay, in reply to this question of his lieutenant.

"The fleet which is coming yonder, with sails unfurled, straight toward
the port of Belle-Isle, is a royal fleet, is it not?"

"But as there are two kings in France, Porthos, to which of these two
kings does this fleet belong?"

"Oh! you open my eyes," replied the giant, stunned by this argument.

And Porthos, for whom the reply of his friend had just opened the eyes,
or rather thickened the bandage which covered his sight, went with his
best speed to the batteries to overlook his people, and exhort every one
to do his duty. In the meantime, Aramis, with his eyes fixed on the
horizon, saw the ships continue to draw nearer. The people and the
soldiers, mounted upon all the summits or irregularities of the rocks,
could distinguish the masts, then the lower sails, and at last the hulls
of the lighters, bearing at the masthead the royal flag of France. It
was quite night when one of these vessels, which had created such a
sensation among the inhabitants of Belle-Isle, was moored within
cannon-shot of the place. It was soon seen, notwithstanding the
darkness, that a sort of agitation reigned on board this vessel, from
the side of which a skiff was lowered, of which the three rowers,
bending to their oars, took the direction of the port, and in a few
instants struck land at the foot of the fort. The commander of this yawl
jumped on shore. He had a letter in his hand, which he waved in the air,
and seemed to wish to communicate with somebody. This man was soon
recognized, by several soldiers, as one of the pilots of the island. He
was the patron of one of the two barks kept back by Aramis, and which
Porthos, in his anxiety with regard to the fate of the fishermen who had
disappeared for two days, had sent in search of the missing boats. He
asked to be conducted to M. d'Herblay. Two soldiers, at a signal from
the sergeant, placed him between them, and escorted him. Aramis was upon
the quay. The envoy presented himself before the bishop of Vannes. The
darkness was almost complete, notwithstanding the flambeaux borne at a
small distance by the soldiers who were following Aramis in his rounds.

"Well, Jonathan, from whom do you come?"

"Monseigneur, from those who captured me."

"Who captured you?"

"You know, monseigneur, we set out in search of our comrades?"