the uncle
whether I was wrong to rid him of his dear nephew."

De Winter only replied by a groan.

"It was all up with him," continued Aramis; "ah I much fear that with
all your wisdom such mercy yet will prove supernal folly."

Athos took Lord de Winter's hand and tried to turn the conversation.

"When shall we land in England?" he asked; but De Winter seemed not to
hear his words and made no reply.

"Hold, Athos," said Aramis, "perhaps there is yet time. See if he is
still in the same place."

Athos turned around with an effort; the sight of the young man was
evidently painful to him, and there he still was, in fact, on the rock,
the beacon shedding around him, as it were, a doubtful aureole.

"Decidedly, Aramis," said Athos, "I think I was wrong not to let you
fire."

"Hold your tongue," replied Aramis; "you would make me weep, if such a
thing were possible."

At this moment they were hailed by a voice from the sloop and a few
seconds later men, servants and baggage were aboard. The captain was
only waiting for his passengers; hardly had they put foot on deck ere
her head was turned towards Hastings, where they were to disembark. At
this instant the three friends turned, in spite of themselves, a last
look on the rock, upon the menacing figure which pursued them and now
stood out with a distinctness still. Then a voice reached them once
more, sending this threat: "To our next meeting, sirs, in England."

44. Te Deum for the Victory of Lens.

The bustle which had been observed by Henrietta Maria and for which she
had vainly sought to discover a reason, was occasioned by the battle of
Lens, announced by the prince's messenger, the Duc de Chatillon, who had
taken such a noble part in the engagement; he was, besides, charged to
hang five and twenty flags, taken from the Lorraine party, as well as
from the Spaniards, upon the arches of Notre Dame.

Such news was decisive; it destroyed, in favor of the court, the
struggle commenced with parliament. The motive given for all the taxes
summarily imposed and to which the parliament had made opposition, was
the necessity of sustaining the honor of France and the uncertain hope
of beating the enemy. Now, since the affair of Nordlingen, they had
experienced nothing but reverses; the parliament had a plea for calling
Mazarin to account for imaginary victories, always promised, ever
deferred; but this time there really had been fighting, a triumph and a
com