"Yes, I understand."

"My lord observes that there will be enough to go around."

"We shall take to ourselves the poniards and the rope," replied the
duke.

"And make La Ramee eat the pear," answered Grimaud.

"My dear Grimaud, thou speakest seldom, but when thou dost, one must do
thee justice--thy words are words of gold."

20. One of Marie Michon's Adventures.

Whilst these projects were being formed by the Duc de Beaufort and
Grimaud, the Comte de la Fere and the Vicomte de Bragelonne were
entering Paris by the Rue du Faubourg Saint Marcel.

They stopped at the sign of the Fox, in the Rue du Vieux Colombier, a
tavern known for many years by Athos, and asked for two bedrooms.

"You must dress yourself, Raoul," said Athos, "I am going to present you
to some one."

"To-day, monsieur?" asked the young man.

"In half an hour."

The young man bowed. Perhaps, not being endowed with the endurance of
Athos, who seemed to be made of iron, he would have preferred a bath in
the river Seine of which he had heard so much, and afterward his bed;
but the Comte de la Fere had spoken and he had no thought but to obey.

"By the way," said Athos, "take some pains with your toilet, Raoul; I
want you to be approved."

"I hope, sir," replied the youth, smiling, "that there's no idea of a
marriage for me; you know of my engagement to Louise?"

Athos, in his turn, smiled also.

"No, don't be alarmed, although it is to a lady that I am going to
present you, and I am anxious that you should love her----"

The young man looked at the count with a certain uneasiness, but at a
smile from Athos he was quickly reassured.

"How old is she?" inquired the Vicomte de Bragelonne.

"My dear Raoul, learn, once for all, that that is a question which is
never asked. When you can find out a woman's age by her face, it is
useless to ask it; when you cannot do so, it is indiscreet."

"Is she beautiful?"

"Sixteen years ago she was deemed not only the prettiest, but the most
graceful woman in France."

This reply reassured the vicomte. A woman who had been a reigning beauty
a year before he was born could not be the subject of any scheme for
him. He retired to his toilet. When he reappeared, Athos received him
with the same paternal smile as that which he had often bestowed on
D'Artagnan, but a more profound tenderness for Raoul was now visibly
impressed upon his face.

Athos cast a glance at his feet, hands and hair--those