then?”
“It is a passion,” replied Raoul.
“No — a habit.”
“Monsieur, you know I have traveled much, that I have passed
two years far away from her. A habit would yield to an
absence of two years, I believe; whereas, on my return, I
loved, not more, that was impossible, but as much.
Mademoiselle de la Valliere is for me the one lady above all
others; but you are for me a god upon earth — to you I
sacrifice everything.”
“You are wrong,” said Athos; “I have no longer any right
over you. Age has emancipated you; you no longer even stand
in need of my consent. Besides, I will not refuse my consent
after what you have told me. Marry Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, if you like.”
Raoul was startled, but suddenly: “You are very kind,
monsieur,” said he, “and your concession excites my warmest
gratitude, but I will not accept it.”
“Then you now refuse?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“I will not oppose you in anything, Raoul.”
“But you have at the bottom of your heart an idea against
this marriage: it is not your choice.”
“That is true.”
“That is sufficient to make me resist: I will wait.”
“Beware, Raoul! What you are now saying is serious.”
“I know it is, monsieur; as I said, I will wait.”
“Until I die?” said Athos, much agitated.
“Oh! monsieur,” cried Raoul, with tears in his eyes, “is it
possible that you should wound my heart thus? I have never
given you cause of complaint!”
“Dear boy, that is true,” murmured Athos, pressing his lips
violently together to conceal the emotion of which he was no
longer master. “No, I will no longer afflict you; only I do
not comprehend what you mean by waiting. Will you wait till
you love no longer?”
“Ah! for that! — no, monsieur. I will wait till you change
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your opinion.”
“I should wish to put the matter to a test, Raoul; I should
like to see if Mademoiselle de la Valliere will wait as you
do.”
“I hope so, monsieur.”
“But take care, Raoul! suppose she did not wait? Ah, you are
so young, so confiding, so loyal! Women are changeable.”
“You have never spoken ill to me of women, monsieur; you
have never had to complain of them; why should you doubt of
Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”
“That is true,” said Athos, casting down his eyes; “I have
never spoken ill to you of women; I have never had to
complain of them; Mademoiselle de la Valliere never gave
birth to a suspicion; but when we are looking forward, we
must go even to exceptions, even to improbabilities! If, I
say, Mademoiselle de la Valliere should not wait for you?”
“How, monsieur?”
“If she turned her eyes another way.”
“If she looked favorably upon another, do you mean,
monsieur?” said Raoul, pale with agony.
“Exactly.”
“Well, monsieur, I would kill him,” said Raoul, simply, “and
all the men whom Mademoiselle de la Valliere should choose,
until one of them had killed me, or Mademoiselle de la
Valliere had restored me her heart.”
Athos started. “I thought,” resumed he, in an agitated
voice, “that you called me just now your god, your law in
this world.”
“Oh!” said Raoul, trembling, “you would forbid me the duel?”
“Suppose I did forbid it, Raoul?”
“You would forbid me to hope, monsieur; consequently you
would not forbid me to die.”
Athos raised his eyes toward the vicomte. He had pronounced
these words with the most melancholy inflection, accompanied
by the most melancholy look. “Enough,”said Athos, after a
long silence, “enough of this subject, upon which we both go
too far. Live as well as you are able, Raoul, perform your
duties, love Mademoiselle de; la Valliere; in a word, act
like a man, since you have attained the age of a man; only
do not forget that I love you tenderly, and that you profess
to love me.”
“Ah! monsieur le comte!” cried Raoul, pressing the hand of
Athos to his heart.
“Enough, dear boy, leave me; I want rest. A propos, M.
d’Artagnan has returned from England with me; you owe him a