ad as if to remember who it could
be. Then, when he raised it again, he was struck by the presence of
a man who was standing at the open door and was gazing at him with a
compassionate air.

"Lord de Winter!" exclaimed the count.

"Athos, my friend!"

And the two gentlemen were for an instant locked in each other's arms;
then Athos, looking into his friend's face and taking him by both hands,
said:

"What ails you, my lord? you appear as unhappy as I am the reverse."

"Yes, truly, dear friend; and I may even say the sight of you increases
my dismay."

And De Winter glancing around him, Raoul quickly understood that the two
friends wished to be alone and he therefore left the room unaffectedly.

"Come, now that we are alone," said Athos, "let us talk of yourself."

"Whilst we are alone let us speak of ourselves," replied De Winter. "He
is here."

"Who?"

"Milady's son."

Athos, again struck by this name, which seemed to pursue him like an
echo, hesitated for a moment, then slightly knitting his brows, he
calmly said:

"I know it, Grimaud met him between Bethune and Arras and then came here
to warn me of his presence."

"Does Grimaud know him, then?"

"No; but he was present at the deathbed of a man who knew him."

"The headsman of Bethune?" exclaimed De Winter.

"You know about that?" cried Athos, astonished.

"He has just left me," replied De Winter, "after telling me all. Ah! my
friend! what a horrible scene! Why did we not destroy the child with the
mother?"

"What need you fear?" said Athos, recovering from the instinctive fear
he had at first experienced, by the aid of reason; "are we not men
accustomed to defend ourselves? Is this young man an assassin by
profession--a murderer in cold blood? He has killed the executioner of
Bethune in an access of passion, but now his fury is assuaged."

De Winter smiled sorrowfully and shook his head.

"Do you not know the race?" said he.

"Pooh!" said Athos, trying to smile in his turn. "It must have lost its
ferocity in the second generation. Besides, my friend, Providence has
warned us, that we may be on our guard. All we can now do is to wait.
Let us wait; and, as I said before, let us speak of yourself. What
brings you to Paris?"

"Affairs of importance which you shall know later. But what is this that
I hear from Her Majesty the Queen of England? Monsieur d'Artagnan sides
with Mazarin! Pardon my frankness, dear friend. I neither hate nor blame