bowed so profoundly that it might have been said he was
kneeling. This demonstration, however absent, or rather,
however absorbed was the king in his reflections, attracted
his attention instantly; and checking his horse and turning
towards Parry, he exclaimed, “Good God, Parry, who is that
man who salutes me in such a marked manner? Can he know me,
think you?”
Parry, much agitated and very pale, had already turned his
horse towards the gate. “Ah, sire!” said he, stopping
suddenly at five of six paces’ distance from the still
bending man: “sire, I am seized with astonishment, for I
think I recognize that brave man. Yes, it must be he! Will
your majesty permit me to speak to him?”
“Certainly.”
“Can it be you, Monsieur Grimaud?” asked Parry.
“Yes, it is I,” replied the tall old man, drawing himself
up, but without losing his respectful demeanor.
“Sire,” then said Parry, “I was not deceived. This good man
is the servant of the Comte de la Fere, and the Comte de la
Fere, if you remember, is the worthy gentleman of whom I
have so often spoken to your majesty that the remembrance of
him must remain, not only in your mind, but in your heart.”
“He who assisted my father at his last moments?” asked
Charles, evidently affected at the remembrance.
“The same, sire.”
“Alas!” said Charles; and then addressing Grimaud, whose
penetrating and intelligent eyes seemed to search and divine
his thoughts, — “My friend,” said he, “does your master,
Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, live in this neighborhood?”
“There,” replied Grimaud, pointing with his outstretched arm
to the white-and-red house behind the gate.
“And is Monsieur le Comte de la Fere at home at present?”
“At the back, under the chestnut trees.”
“Parry,” said the king, “I will not miss this opportunity,
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so precious for me, to thank the gentleman to whom our house
is indebted for such a noble example of devotedness and
generosity. Hold my horse, my friend, if you please.” And,
throwing the bridle to Grimaud, the king entered the abode
of Athos, quite alone, as one equal enters the dwelling of
another. Charles had been informed by the concise
explanation of Grimaud, — “At the back, under the chestnut
trees;” he left, therefore, the house on the left, and went
straight down the path indicated. The thing was easy; the
tops of those noble trees, already covered with leaves and
flowers, rose above all the rest.
On arriving under the lozenges, by turns luminous and dark,
which checkered the ground of this path according as the
trees were more or less in leaf, the young prince perceived
a gentleman walking with his arms behind him, apparently
plunged in a deep meditation. Without doubt, he had often
had this gentleman described to him, for, without
hesitating, Charles II. walked straight up to him. At the
sound of his footsteps, the Comte de la Fere raised his
head, and seeing an unknown man of noble and elegant
carriage coming towards him, he raised his hat and waited.
At some paces from him, Charles II. likewise took off his
hat. Then, as if in reply to the comte’s mute interrogation,
—
“Monsieur le Comte,” said he,” I come to discharge a duty
towards you. I have, for a long time, had the expression of
a profound gratitude to bring you. I am Charles II., son of
Charles Stuart, who reigned in England, and died on the
scaffold.”
On hearing this illustrious name, Athos felt a kind of
shudder creep through his veins, but at the sight of the
young prince standing uncovered before him, and stretching
out his hand towards him, two tears, for an instant, dimmed
his brilliant eyes. He bent respectfully, but the prince
took him by the hand.
“See how unfortunate I am, my lord count; it is only due to
chance that I have met with you. Alas! I ought to have
people around me whom I love and honor, whereas I am reduced
to preserve their services in my heart, and their names in
my memory: so that if your servant had not recognized mine,