to him, he would
know me."

Athos went up to the soldier, who pointed out the tent to him;
immediately Monk and Athos turned towards it. It appeared to the general
that at the moment they came up, a shadow like that they had already
seen, glided into this tent; but on drawing nearer he perceived he must
have been mistaken, for all of them were asleep _pele mele_, and nothing
was seen but arms and legs joined, crossed, and mixed. Athos, fearing
lest he should be suspected of connivance with some of his compatriots,
remained outside the tent.

"_Hola!_" said Monk, in French, "wake up here." Two or three of the
sleepers got up.

"I want a man to light me," continued Monk.

"Your honor may depend on us," said a voice which made Athos start.
"Where do you wish us to go?"

"You shall see. A light! come, quickly!"

"Yes, your honor. Does it please your honor that I should accompany
you?"

"You or another; it is of very little consequence, provided I have a
light."

"It is strange!" thought Athos; "what a singular voice that man has!"

"Some fire, you fellows!" cried the fisherman; "come, make haste!"

Then addressing his companion nearest to him in a low voice:--"Get ready
a light, Menneville," said he, "and hold yourself ready for anything."

One of the fishermen struck light from a stone, set fire to some tinder,
and by the aid of a match lit a lantern. The light immediately spread
all over the tent.

"Are you ready, monsieur?" said Monk to Athos, who had turned away, not
to expose his face to the light.

"Yes, general," replied he.

"Ah! the French gentleman!" said the leader of the fishermen to himself.
"_Peste!_ I have a great mind to charge you with the commission,
Menneville; he may know me. Light! light!" This dialogue was pronounced
at the back of the tent, and in so low a voice that Monk could not hear
a syllable of it; he was, besides, talking with Athos. Menneville got
himself ready in the meantime, or rather received the orders of his
leader.

"Well?" said Monk.

"I am ready, general," said the fisherman.

Monk, Athos, and the fisherman left the tent.

"It is impossible!" thought Athos. "What dream could put that into my
head?"

"Go forward; follow the middle causeway, and stretch out your legs,"
said Monk to the fisherman.

They were not twenty paces on their way when the same shadow that had
appeared to enter the tent came out of it again, crawled along as far
as the piles, and, pro