,
as a man of honor and of great intelligence, could I, when the desire
of so august a personage was so urgently expressed that I should move,
ought I to have disobeyed?"

Porthos was about to speak, but Saint-Aignan did not give him time to
answer. "Ah! my frankness, I see, convinces you," he said, interpreting
the movement according to his own fancy. "You feel that I am right."

Porthos did not reply, and so Saint-Aignan continued: "I pass by that
unfortunate trap-door," he said, placing his hand on Porthos' arm, "that
trap-door, the occasion and the means of so much unhappiness, and which
was constructed for--you know what. Well then, in plain truth, do you
suppose that it was I who, of my own accord, in such a place, too, had
that trap-door made?--Oh, no! you do not believe it; and here, again,
you feel, you guess, you understand the influence of a will superior to
my own. You can conceive the infatuation, the blind irresistible
passion, which has been at work. But, thank Heaven! I am fortunate
enough in speaking to a man who has so much sensitiveness of feeling; if
it were not so, indeed, what an amount of misery and scandal would fall
upon her, poor girl! and upon him--whom I will not name."

Porthos, confused and bewildered by the eloquence and gestures of
Saint-Aignan, made a thousand efforts to stem this torrent of words, of
which, by-the-by, he did not understand a single one; he remained
upright and motionless on his seat, and that was all he could do.
Saint-Aignan continued, and gave a new inflection to his voice, and an
increasing vehemence to his gesture: "As for the portrait, for I readily
believe the portrait is the principal cause of complaint, tell me
candidly if you think me to blame?--Who was it who wished to have her
portrait? Was it I?--Who is in love with her? Is it I?--Who wishes to
gain her affection? Again, is it I?--Who took her likeness? I, do you
think? No! a thousand times no! I know M. de Bragelonne must be in a
state of despair; I know these misfortunes are most cruel. But I, too,
am suffering as well; and yet there is no possibility of offering any
resistance. Suppose we were to struggle? we would be laughed at. If he
obstinately persists in his course, he is lost. You will tell me, I
know, that despair is ridiculous, but then you are a sensible man. You
have understood me. I perceive by your serious, thoughtful, embarrassed
air, even, that the importance of the situation we are placed