an," continued Charles, "this is what was about
to happen: M. le Comte de la Fere, who you know, I believe, has set out
for Newcastle."

"What, Athos!" exclaimed D'Artagnan.

"Yes, that was his _nom de guerre_, I believe. The Comte de la Fere had
then set out for Newcastle, and was going, perhaps, to bring the
general to hold a conference with me or with those of my party, when you
violently, as it appears, interfered with the negotiation."

"_Mordioux!_" replied D'Artagnan, "he entered the camp the very evening
in which I succeeded in getting into it with my fishermen--"

An almost imperceptible frown on the brow of Monk told D'Artagnan that
he had surmised rightly.

"Yes, yes," muttered he; "I thought I knew his person; I even fancied I
knew his voice. Unlucky wretch that I am! Oh! sire, pardon me! I thought
I had so successfully steered my bark."

"There is nothing ill in it, sir," said the king, "except that the
general accuses me of having laid a snare for him, which is not the
case. No, general, those are not the arms which I contemplated employing
with you, as you will soon see. In the meanwhile, when I give you my
word upon the honor of a gentleman, believe me, sir, believe me! Now,
Monsieur d'Artagnan, a word with you, if you please."

"I listen on my knees, sire."

"You are truly at my service, are you not?"

"Your majesty has seen that I am, too much so."

"That is well; from a man like you one word suffices. In addition to
that word you bring actions. General, have the goodness to follow me.
Come with us, M. d'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan, considerably surprised, prepared to obey. Charles II. went
out, Monk followed him, D'Artagnan followed Monk. Charles took the path
by which D'Artagnan had come to his abode; the fresh sea breezes soon
caressed the faces of the three nocturnal travelers, and, at fifty paces
from the little gate which Charles opened, they found themselves upon
the down in the face of the ocean, which, having ceased to rise, reposed
upon the shore like a wearied monster. Charles II. walked pensively
along, his head hanging down and his hand beneath his cloak. Monk
followed him, with crossed arms and an uneasy look. D'Artagnan came
last, with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Where is the boat in which you came, gentlemen?" said Charles to the
musketeer.

"Yonder, sire; I have seven men and an officer waiting me in that little
bark which is lighted by a fire."

"Yes, I see; the