or, the sweat which covered his face, the dust which
soiled his clothes, all indicated that he was the messenger of some
important and terrible news.

"Your honors," said he, "that woman had a child; that child has become
a man; the tigress had a little one, the tiger has roused himself; he is
ready to spring upon you--beware!"

Athos glanced around at his friends with a melancholy smile. Porthos
turned to look at his sword, which was hanging on the wall; Aramis
seized his knife; D'Artagnan arose.

"What do you mean, Grimaud?" he exclaimed.

"That Milady's son has left England, that he is in France, on his road
to Paris, if he be not here already."

"The devil he is!" said Porthos. "Are you sure of it?"

"Certain," replied Grimaud.

This announcement was received in silence. Grimaud was so breathless, so
exhausted, that he had fallen back upon a chair. Athos filled a beaker
with champagne and gave it to him.

"Well, after all," said D'Artagnan, "supposing that he lives, that he
comes to Paris; we have seen many other such. Let him come."

"Yes," echoed Porthos, glancing affectionately at his sword, still
hanging on the wall; "we can wait for him; let him come."

"Moreover, he is but a child," said Aramis.

Grimaud rose.

"A child!" he exclaimed. "Do you know what he has done, this child?
Disguised as a monk he discovered the whole history in confession from
the executioner of Bethune, and having confessed him, after having
learned everything from him, he gave him absolution by planting this
dagger into his heart. See, it is on fire yet with his hot blood, for it
is not thirty hours since it was drawn from the wound."

And Grimaud threw the dagger on the table.

D'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis rose and in one spontaneous motion rushed
to their swords. Athos alone remained seated, calm and thoughtful.

"And you say he is dressed as a monk, Grimaud?"

"Yes, as an Augustine monk."

"What sized man is he?"

"About my height; thin, pale, with light blue eyes and tawny flaxen
hair."

"And he did not see Raoul?" asked Athos.

"Yes, on the contrary, they met, and it was the viscount himself who
conducted him to the bed of the dying man."

Athos, in his turn, rising without speaking, went and unhooked his
sword.

"Heigh, sir," said D'Artagnan, trying to laugh, "do you know we look
very much like a flock of silly, mouse-evading women! How is it that we,
four men who have faced armies without blinking, b