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Raoul bowed.
“But where is Louise?” asked the comte.
“I have brought her here, sir, and I have deposited her in
charge of Charlotte, who, till better advice comes, has
bathed the foot in cold well-water.”
The guests now all took leave of Athos, excepting the old
Duc de Barbe, who, as an old friend of the family of La
Valliere, went to see little Louise and offered to take her
to Blois in his carriage.
“You are right, sir,” said Athos. “She will be the sooner
with her mother. As for you, Raoul, I am sure it is your
fault, some giddiness or folly.”
“No, sir, I assure you,” muttered Raoul, “it is not.”
“Oh, no, no, I declare it is not!” cried the young girl,
while Raoul turned pale at the idea of his being perhaps the
cause of her disaster.
“Nevertheless, Raoul, you must go to Blois and you must make
your excuses and mine to Madame de Saint-Remy.”
The youth looked pleased. He again took in his strong arms
the little girl, whose pretty golden head and smiling face
rested on his shoulder, and placed her gently in the
carriage; then jumping on his horse with the elegance of a
first-rate esquire, after bowing to Athos and D’Artagnan, he
went off close by the door of the carriage, on somebody
inside of which his eyes were riveted.
14
The Castle of Bragelonne.
Whilst this scene was going on, D’Artagnan remained with
open mouth and a confused gaze. Everything had turned out so
differently from what he expected that he was stupefied with
wonder.
Athos, who had been observing him and guessing his thoughts,
took his arm and led him into the garden.
“Whilst supper is being prepared,” he said, smiling, “you
will not, my friend, be sorry to have the mystery which so
puzzles you cleared up.”
“True, monsieur le comte,” replied D’Artagnan, who felt that
by degrees Athos was resuming that great influence which
aristocracy had over him.
Athos smiled.
“First and foremost, dear D’Artagnan, we have no title such
as count here. When I call you `chevalier,’ it is in
presenting you to my guests, that they may know who you are.
But to you, D’Artagnan, I am, I hope, still dear Athos, your
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comrade, your friend. Do you intend to stand on ceremony
because you are less attached to me than you were?”
“Oh! God forbid!”
“Then let us be as we used to be; let us be open with each
other. You are surprised at what you see here?”
“Extremely.”
“But above all things, I am a marvel to you?”
“I confess it.”
“I am still young, am I not? Should you not have known me
again, in spite of my eight-and-forty years of age?”
“On the contrary, I do not find you the same person at all.”
“I understand,” cried Athos, with a gentle blush.
“Everything, D’Artagnan, even folly, has its limit.”
“Then your means, it appears, are improved; you have a
capital house — your own, I presume? You have a park, and
horses, servants.”
Athos smiled.
“Yes, I inherited this little property when I quitted the
army, as I told you. The park is twenty acres — twenty,
comprising kitchen-gardens and a common. I have two horses,
— I do not count my servant’s bobtailed nag. My sporting
dogs consist of two pointers, two harriers and two setters.
But then all this extravagance is not for myself,” added
Athos, laughing.
“Yes, I see, for the young man Raoul,” said D’Artagnan.
“You guess aright, my friend; this youth is an orphan,
deserted by his mother, who left him in the house of a poor
country priest. I have brought him up. It is Raoul who has
worked in me the change you see; I was dried up like a
miserable tree, isolated, attached to nothing on earth; it
was only a deep affection that could make me take root again
and drag me back to life. This child has caused me to
recover what I had lost. I had no longer any wish to live