extended a
hand to Raoul and said:

"My young friend, all the praises that are given me should be passed on
to the count here; for he has educated me in everything and it is not
his fault that his pupil profited so little from his instructions. But
he will make it up in you I am sure. I like your manner, Raoul, and your
politeness has touched me."

Athos was more delighted than can be told. He looked at D'Artagnan
with an expression of gratitude and then bestowed on Raoul one of those
strange smiles, of which children are so proud when they receive them.

"Now," said D'Artagnan to himself, noticing that silent play of
countenance, "I am sure of it."

"I hope the accident has been of no consequence?"

"They don't yet know, sir, on account of the swelling; but the doctor is
afraid some tendon has been injured."

At this moment a little boy, half peasant, half foot-boy, came to
announce supper.

Athos led his guest into a dining-room of moderate size, the windows of
which opened on one side on a garden, on the other on a hot-house full
of magnificent flowers.

D'Artagnan glanced at the dinner service. The plate was magnificent,
old, and appertaining to the family. D'Artagnan stopped to look at a
sideboard on which was a superb ewer of silver.

"That workmanship is divine!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, a chef d'oeuvre of the great Florentine sculptor, Benvenuto
Cellini," replied Athos.

"What battle does it represent?"

"That of Marignan, just at the point where one of my forefathers is
offering his sword to Francis I., who has broken his. It was on that
occasion that my ancestor, Enguerrand de la Fere, was made a knight
of the Order of St. Michael; besides which, the king, fifteen years
afterward, gave him also this ewer and a sword which you may have seen
formerly in my house, also a lovely specimen of workmanship. Men were
giants in those times," said Athos; "now we are pigmies in comparison.
Let us sit down to supper. Call Charles," he added, addressing the boy
who waited.

"My good Charles, I particularly recommend to your care Planchet, the
laquais of Monsieur D'Artagnan. He likes good wine; now you have the
key of the cellar. He has slept a long time on a hard bed, so he won't
object to a soft one; take every care of him, I beg of you." Charles
bowed and retired.

"You think of everything," said D'Artagnan; "and I thank you for
Planchet, my dear Athos."

Raoul stared on hearing this name and looked at t