astly, how he had entered Monk's
camp; and the poor lieutenant of musketeers plucked a hair from his
mustache every time that he reflected that the horseman who accompanied
Monk on the night of the famous abduction must have been Athos.

At length, after a passage of two nights and two days, the _patron_
Keyser touched at the point where Monk, who had given all the orders
during the voyage, had commanded they should land. It was exactly at the
mouth of the little river, near where Athos had chosen his abode.

Daylight was waning, a splendid sun, like a red steel buckler, was
plunging the lower extremity of its disc beneath the blue line of the
sea. The felucca was making fair way up the river, tolerably wide
in that part, but Monk, in his impatience, desired to be landed, and
Keyser's boat set him and D'Artagnan upon the muddy bank, amidst the
reeds. D'Artagnan, resigned to obedience, followed Monk exactly as a
chained bear follows his master; but the position humiliated him not
a little, and he grumbled to himself that the service of kings was a
bitter one, and that the best of them was good for nothing. Monk walked
with long and hasty strides; it might be thought that he did not yet
feel certain of having reached English land. They had already begun to
perceive distinctly a few of the cottages of the sailors and fishermen
spread over the little quay of this humble port, when, all at once,
D'Artagnan cried out,--"God pardon me, there is a house on fire!"

Monk raised his eyes, and perceived there was, in fact, a house which
the flames were beginning to devour. It had begun at a little shed
belonging to the house, the roof of which had caught. The fresh evening
breeze agitated the fire. The two travelers quickened their steps,
hearing loud cries, and seeing, as they drew nearer, soldiers with their
glittering arms pointed towards the house on fire. It was doubtless this
menacing occupation which had made them neglect to signal the felucca.
Monk stopped short for an instant, and, for the first time, formulated
his thoughts into words. "Eh! but," said he, "perhaps they are not my
soldiers but Lambert's."

These words contained at once a sorrow, and apprehension, and a reproach
perfectly intelligible to D'Artagnan. In fact, during the general's
absence, Lambert might have given battle, conquered, and dispersed the
parliament's army, and taken with his own the place of Monk's army,
deprived of its strongest support. At t