“Certainly, Monsieur,- for such an expedition cannot be of long duration.”
“Soon, then, Raoul, soon, instead of living moderately upon my income, I will give you the capital of my estates; it will suffice for launching you into the world till my death,- and you will give me, I hope, before that time, the consolation of not seeing my race extinct.”
“I will do all you shall command,” said Raoul, much agitated.
“It is not necessary, Raoul, that your duty as aide-de-camp should lead you into too hazardous enterprises. You have gone through your ordeal; you are known to be good under fire. Remember that war with the Arabs is a war of snares, ambuscades, and assassinations.”
“So it is said, Monsieur.”
“There is never much glory in falling in an ambuscade. It is a death which always implies some rashness or want of foresight. Often, indeed, he who falls in it meets with but little pity. They who are not pitied, Raoul, have died uselessly. Still further, the conqueror laughs, and we Frenchmen ought not to allow stupid infidels to triumph over our mistakes. Do you clearly understand what I am saying to you, Raoul? God forbid I should encourage you to avoid encounters!”
“I am naturally prudent, Monsieur, and I have very good fortune,” said Raoul, with a smile which chilled the heart of his poor father; “for,” the young man hastened to add, “in twenty combats in which I have been, I have only received one scratch.”
“There is in addition,” said Athos, “the climate to be dreaded; that is an ugly end, that fever! King Saint-Louis prayed God to send him an arrow or the plague, rather than the fever.”
“Oh, Monsieur! with sobriety, with due exercise-”
“I have already obtained from M. de Beaufort a promise that his despatches shall be sent off every fort-night to France. You, as his aide-de-camp, will be charged with expediting them, and will be sure not to forget me?”
“No, Monsieur,” said Raoul, almost choked with emotion.
“Besides, Raoul, as you are a good Christian, and I am one also, we ought to reckon upon a more special protection of God and his guardian angels. Promise me that if anything evil should happen to you on any occasion, you will think of me at once.”
“First and at once! Oh, yes, Monsieur!
“And will call upon me?”
“Instantly.”
“You dream of me sometimes, do you not, Raoul?”
“Every night, Monsieur. During my early youth I saw you in my dreams, calm and mild, with one hand stretched out over my head; and that it was that made me sleep so soundly- formerly.”
“We love each other so dearly,” said the count, “that from this moment in which we separate a portion of both our souls will travel with one and the other of us, and will dwell wherever we may dwell. Whenever you may be sad, Raoul, I feel that my heart will be drowned in sadness; and when you smile on thinking of me, be assured you will send me, from however remote a distance, a ray of your joy.”
“I will not promise you to be joyous,” replied the young man; “but you may be certain that I will never pass an hour without thinking of you; not one hour, I swear, unless I be dead.”
Athos could contain himself no longer; he threw his arm round the neck of his son, and held him embraced with all the power of his heart. The moon began to be now eclipsed by twilight; a golden band mounted on the horizon announcing the approach of day. Athos threw his cloak over the shoulders of Raoul, and led him back to the city, where burdens and porters were already in motion, as in a vast ant-hill. At the end of the plateau which Athos and Bragelonne were quitting, they saw a dark shadow moving backwards and forwards, as if in indecision or ashamed to be seen. It was Grimaud, who in his anxiety had tracked his master, and was waiting for him.
“Oh, my good Grimaud,” cried Raoul, “what do you want? You have come to tell us it is time to go, have you not?”