Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part two

Under this last blow Athos staggered, and the Prince himself was moved. Grimaud uttered a heavy groan, and let fall the bottle, which was broken without anybody paying attention to it. M. de Beaufort looked the young man in the face, and read plainly, though his eyes were cast down, the fire of resolution before which everything must give way. As for Athos, he was too well acquainted with that tender but inflexible soul; he could not hope to make it deviate from the fatal road it had just chosen. He could only press the hand of the duke held out to him. “Count, I shall set off in two days for Toulon,” said M. de Beaufort. “Will you meet me at Paris, in order that I may know your determination?”

“I will have the honor of thanking you there, my Prince, for all your kindnesses,” replied the count.

“And be sure to bring the viscount with you, whether he follows me or does not follow me,” added the duke; “he has my word, and I only ask yours.”

Having thus thrown a little balm upon the wound of that paternal heart, he pulled the ear of Grimaud, whose eyes sparkled more than usual, and regained his escort in the parterre. The horses, rested and refreshed, set off with spirit through this beautiful night, and soon placed a considerable distance between their master and the chateau.

Athos and Bragelonne were again face to face. Eleven o’clock was striking. The father and son preserved a profound silence towards each other, where an intelligent observer would have expected cries and tears. But these two men were of such a nature that all emotion buried itself forever when they had resolved to confine it to their own hearts. They passed, then, silently and almost breathlessly the hour which preceded midnight. The clock, by striking, alone pointed out to them how many minutes the painful journey had lasted, which their souls had made in the immensity of the remembrances of the past and of the fears of the future. Athos rose first, saying, “It is late; till to-morrow.”

Raoul rose in his turn, and embraced his father. The latter held him clasped to his breast, and said in a tremulous voice, “In two days you will have left me, then,- left me forever, Raoul?”

“Monsieur,” replied the young man, “I had formed a determination,- that of piercing my heart with my sword; but you would have thought that cowardly. I have renounced that determination, and therefore we must part.”

“You leave me by going, Raoul.”

“Listen to me again, Monsieur, I implore you. If I do not go, I shall die here of grief and love. I know how long a time I have to live thus. Send me away quickly, Monsieur, or you will see me basely die before your eyes,- in your house; this is stronger than my will, stronger than my endurance; you may plainly see that within one month I have lived thirty years, and that I approach the end of my life.”

“Then,” said Athos, coldly, “you go with the intention of getting killed in Africa? Oh, tell me! do not lie!”

Raoul grew deadly pale, and remained silent for two seconds, which were to his father two hours of agony. Then, all at once, “Monsieur,” said he, “I have promised to devote myself to God. In exchange for this sacrifice which I make of my youth and my liberty, I will only ask of him one thing, and that is to preserve me for you, because you are the only tie which attaches me to this world. God alone can give me the strength not to forget that I owe you everything, and that nothing ought to be with me before you.”

Athos embraced his son tenderly, and said, “You have just replied to me on the word of honor of an honest man; in two days we shall be with M. de Beaufort at Paris, and you will then do what will be proper for you to do. You are free, Raoul; adieu.” And he slowly gained his bedroom. Raoul went down into the garden, and passed the night in the alley of limes.