Raoul?" asked Aramis.

"Well," said D'Artagnan, "one is never killed in a first engagement."

"Nor in the second," said Aramis

"Nor in the third," returned Porthos; "and even when one is killed, one
rises again, the proof of which is, that here we are!"

"No," said Athos, "it is not Raoul about whom I am anxious, for I trust
he will conduct himself like a gentleman; and if he is killed--well,
he will die bravely; but hold--should such a misfortune happen--well--"
Athos passed his hand across his pale brow.

"Well?" asked Aramis.

"Well, I shall look upon it as an expiation."

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan; "I know what you mean."

"And I, too," added Aramis; "but you must not think of that, Athos; what
is past, is past."

"I don't understand," said Porthos.

"The affair at Armentieres," whispered D'Artagnan.

"The affair at Armentieres?" asked he again.

"Milady."

"Oh, yes!" said Porthos; "true, I had forgotten it!"

Athos looked at him intently.

"You have forgotten it, Porthos?" said he.

"Faith! yes, it is so long ago," answered Porthos.

"This affair does not, then, weigh upon your conscience?"

"Faith, no."

"And you, D'Artagnan?"

"I--I own that when my mind returns to that terrible period I have no
recollection of anything but the rigid corpse of poor Madame Bonancieux.
Yes, yes," murmured he, "I have often felt regret for the victim, but
never the very slightest remorse for the assassin."

Athos shook his dead doubtfully.

"Consider," said Aramis, "if you admit divine justice and its
participation in the things of this world, that woman was punished by
the will of heaven. We were but the instruments, that is all."

"But as to free will, Aramis?"

"How acts the judge? He has a free will, yet he fearlessly condemns.
What does the executioner? He is master of his arm, yet he strikes
without remorse."

"The executioner!" muttered Athos, as if arrested by some recollection.

"I know that it is terrible," said D'Artagnan; "but when I reflect that
we have killed English, Rochellais, Spaniards, nay, even French, who
never did us any other harm but to aim at and to miss us, whose only
fault was to cross swords with us and to be unable to ward off our
blows--I can, on my honor, find an excuse for my share in the murder of
that woman."

"As for me," said Porthos, "now that you have reminded me of it, Athos,
I have the scene again before me, as if I now were there. Milady was
there, as it were,