The bishop raised his head. “Well, Aramis,” continued Porthos, “I have thought, I have had an idea; I have imagined that an event has taken place in France. I dreamed of M. Fouquet all the night; I dreamed of dead fish, broken eggs, chambers badly furnished, meanly kept. Bad dreams, my dear d’Herblay; very unlucky, such dreams!”
“Porthos, what is that yonder?” interrupted Aramis, rising suddenly, and pointing out to his friend a black spot upon the empurpled line of the water.
“A boat!” said Porthos; “yes, it is a boat! Ah! we shall have some news at last.”
“There are two!” cried the bishop, on discovering another mast; “two! three! four!”
“Five!” said Porthos, in his turn. “Six! seven! Ah, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! it is a whole fleet!”
“Our boats returning, probably,” said Aramis, very uneasily, in spite of the assurance he affected.
“They are very large for fishing-boats,” observed Porthos; “and do you not remark, my friend, that they come from the Loire?”
“They come from the Loire- yes-”
“And look! everybody here sees them as well as ourselves; look, the women and children are beginning to get upon the jetty!” An old fisherman passed. “Are those our boats yonder?” asked Aramis.
The old man looked steadily into the horizon. “No, Monseigneur,” replied he; “they are lighter-boats in the King’s service.”
“Boats in the royal service?” replied Aramis, starting. “How do you know?”
“By the flag.”
“But,” said Porthos, “the boat is scarcely visible; how the devil, my friend, can you distinguish the flag?”
“I see there is one,” replied the old man; “our boats, or trade-lighters, do not carry any. That sort of craft is generally used for the transport of troops.”
“Ah!” said Aramis.
“Vivat!” cried Porthos, “they are sending us reinforcements; don’t you think they are, Aramis?”
“Probably.”
“Unless it is the English coming.”
“By the Loire? That would have an ill look, Porthos, for they must have come through Paris!”
“You are right; they are reinforcements, decidedly, or provisions.”
Aramis leaned his head upon his hand and made no reply. Then, all at once, “Porthos,” said he, “have the alarm sounded.”
“The alarm! do you think of such a thing?”
“Yes, and let the cannoneers mount to their batteries; let the artillery-men be at their pieces, and be particularly watchful of the coast batteries.” Porthos opened his eyes to their widest extent. He looked attentively at his friend, to convince himself that he was in his proper senses.
“I will do it, my dear Porthos,” continued Aramis, in his most bland tone; “I will go and have these orders executed myself if you do not go, my friend.”
“Well, I will go instantly!” said Porthos, going to execute the order, casting all the while looks behind him to see if the Bishop of Vannes were not making a mistake, and if, on returning to more rational ideas, he would not recall him. The alarm was sounded, the trumpets brayed, and drums rolled; the great bell of the belfry was put in motion. The dikes and piers were quickly filled with the curious and soldiers; the matches sparkled in the hands of the artillery-men, placed behind the large cannon bedded in their stone carriages. When every man was at his post, when all the preparations for the defence were made, “Permit me, Aramis, to try to comprehend,” whispered Porthos, timidly, in Aramis’s ear.
“My dear friend, you will comprehend but too soon,” murmured M. d’Herblay, in reply to this question of his lieutenant.
“The fleet which is coming yonder with sail unfurled straight towards the port of Belle-Isle, is a royal fleet, is it not?”
“But as there are two Kings in France, Porthos, to which of these two Kings does this fleet belong?”
“Oh, you open my eyes!” replied the giant, stunned by this argument.
And Porthos, whose eyes his friend’s reply had just opened, or rather, had thickened the bandage which covered his sight, went with his best speed to the batteries to overlook his people and exhort every one to do his duty. In the mean time Aramis, with his eyes fixed on the horizon, saw the ships continue to draw nearer. The people and the soldiers, mounted upon all the summits or irregularities of the rocks, could distinguish the masts, then the lower sails, and at last the hulls of the lighters, bearing at the masthead the royal flag of France. It was quite night when one of these vessels which had created such a sensation among the inhabitants of Belle-Isle was moored within cannon-shot of the place. It was soon seen, notwithstanding the darkness, that a sort of agitation reigned on board this vessel, from the side of which a skiff was lowered, of which the three rowers, bending to their oars, took the direction of the port, and in a few instants struck land at the foot of the fort. The commander of this yawl jumped on shore. He had a letter in his hand, which he waved in the air, and seemed to wish to communicate with somebody. This man was soon recognized by several soldiers as one of the pilots of the island. He was the skipper of one of the two boats kept back by Aramis, which Porthos, in his anxiety with regard to the fate of the fishermen who had disappeared for two days, had sent in search of the missing boats. He asked to be conducted to M. d’Herblay. Two soldiers, at a signal from the sergeant, placed him between them and escorted him. Aramis was upon the quay. The envoy presented himself before the Bishop of Vannes. The darkness was almost complete, notwithstanding the torches borne at a small distance by the soldiers who were following Aramis in his rounds.