standing and with listening ear; then only when he had heard
the step of the horse going away he fell back on a chair,
saying:
“My God, I thank Thee that he knows me only.”
41
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Paternal Affection.
Whilst this terrible scene was passing at Lord de Winter’s,
Athos, seated near his window, his elbow on the table and
his head supported on his hand, was listening intently to
Raoul’s account of the adventures he met with on his journey
and the details of the battle.
Listening to the relation of those emotions so fresh and
pure, the fine, noble face of Athos betrayed indescribable
pleasure; he inhaled the tones of that young voice, as
harmonious music. He forgot all that was dark in the past
and that was cloudy in the future. It almost seemed as if
the return of this much loved boy had changed his fears to
hopes. Athos was happy — happy as he had never been before.
“And you assisted and took part in this great battle,
Bragelonne!” cried the former musketeer.
“Yes, sir.”
“And it was a fierce one?”
“His highness the prince charged eleven times in person.”
“He is a great commander, Bragelonne.”
“He is a hero, sir. I did not lose sight of him for an
instant. Oh! how fine it is to be called Conde and to be so
worthy of such a name!”
“He was calm and radiant, was he not?”
“As calm as at parade, radiant as at a fete. When we went up
to the enemy it was slowly; we were forbidden to draw first
and we were marching toward the Spaniards, who were on a
height with lowered muskets. When we arrived about thirty
paces from them the prince turned around to the soldiers:
`Comrades,’ he said, `you are about to suffer a furious
discharge; but after that you will make short work with
those fellows.’ There was such dead silence that friends and
enemies could have heard these words; then raising his
sword, `Sound trumpets!’ he cried.”
“Well, very good; you will do as much when the opportunity
occurs, will you, Raoul?”
“I know not, sir, but I thought it really very fine and
grand!”
“Were you afraid, Raoul?” asked the count.
“Yes, sir,” replied the young man naively; “I felt a great
chill at my heart, and at the word `fire,’ which resounded
in Spanish from the enemy’s ranks, I closed my eyes and
thought of you.”
“In honest truth, Raoul?” said Athos, pressing his hand.
“Yes, sir; at that instant there was such a rataplan of
musketry that one might have imagined the infernal regions
had opened. Those who were not killed felt the heat of the
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flames. I opened my eyes, astonished to find myself alive
and even unhurt; a third of the squadron were lying on the
ground, wounded, dead or dying. At that moment I encountered
the eye of the prince. I had but one thought and that was
that he was observing me. I spurred on and found myself in
the enemy’s ranks.”
“And the prince was pleased with you?”
“He told me so, at least, sir, when he desired me to return
to Paris with Monsieur de Chatillon, who was charged to
carry the news to the queen and to bring the colors we had
taken. `Go,’ said he; `the enemy will not rally for fifteen
days and until that time I have no need of your service. Go
and see those whom you love and who love you, and tell my
sister De Longueville that I thank her for the present that
she made me of you.’ And I came, sir,” added Raoul, gazing
at the count with a smile of real affection, “for I thought
you would be glad to see me again.”
Athos drew the young man toward him and pressed his lips to
his brow, as he would have done to a young daughter.
“And now, Raoul,” said he, “you are launched; you have dukes
for friends, a marshal of France for godfather, a prince of
the blood as commander, and on the day of your return you