you also.”
He turned to a closet where his own orders were locked up,
and took out two ribbons of the Order of the Garter.
“These cannot be for us,” said Athos.
“Why not, sir?” asked Charles.
“Such are for royalty, and we are simple commoners.”
“Speak not of crowns. I shall not find amongst them such
great hearts as yours. No, no, you do yourselves injustice;
but I am here to do you justice. On your knees, count.”
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Athos knelt down and the king passed the ribbon down from
left to right as usual, raised his sword, and instead of
pronouncing the customary formula, “I make you a knight. Be
brave, faithful and loyal,” he said, “You are brave,
faithful and loyal. I knight you, monsieur le comte.”
Then turning to Aramis, he said:
“It is now your turn, monsieur le chevalier.”
The same ceremony recommenced, with the same words, whilst
Winter unlaced his leather cuirass, that he might disguise
himself like the king. Charles, having proceeded with Aramis
as with Athos, embraced them both.
“Sire,” said Winter, who in this trying emergency felt all
his strength and energy fire up, “we are ready.”
The king looked at the three gentlemen. “Then we must fly!”
said he.
“Flying through an army, sire,” said Athos, “in all
countries in the world is called charging.”
“Then I shall die, sword in hand,” said Charles. “Monsieur
le comte, monsieur le chevalier, if ever I am king —- ”
“Sire, you have already done us more honor than simple
gentlemen could ever aspire to, therefore gratitude is on
our side. But we must not lose time. We have already wasted
too much.”
The king again shook hands with all three, exchanged hats
with Winter and went out.
Winter’s regiment was ranged on some high ground above the
camp. The king, followed by the three friends, turned his
steps that way. The Scotch camp seemed as if at last
awakened; the soldiers had come out of their tents and taken
up their station in battle array.
“Do you see that?” said the king. “Perhaps they are penitent
and preparing to march.”
“If they are penitent,” said Athos, “let them follow us.”
“Well!” said the king, “what shall we do?”
“Let us examine the enemy’s army.”
At the same instant the eyes of the little group were fixed
on the same line which at daybreak they had mistaken for fog
and which the morning sun now plainly showed was an army in
order of battle. The air was soft and clear, as it generally
is at that early hour of the morning. The regiments, the
standards, and even the colors of the horses and uniforms
were now clearly distinct.
On the summit of a rising ground, a little in advance of the
enemy, appeared a short and heavy looking man; this man was
surrounded by officers. He turned a spyglass toward the
little group amongst which the king stood.
“Does this man know your majesty personally?” inquired
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Aramis.
Charles smiled.
“That man is Cromwell,” said he.
“Then draw down your hat, sire, that he may not discover the
substitution.”
“Ah!” said Athos, “how much time we have lost.”
“Now,” said the king, “give the word and let us start.”
“Will you not give it, sire?” asked Athos.
“No; I make you my lieutenant-general,” said the king.
“Listen, then, Lord Winter. Proceed, sire, I beg. What we
are going to say does not concern your majesty.”
The king, smiling, turned a few steps back.
“This is what I propose to do,” said Athos. “We will divide
our regiments into two squadrons. You will put yourself at
the head of the first. We and his majesty will lead the
second. If no obstacle occurs we will both charge together,
force the enemy’s line and throw ourselves into the Tyne,
which we must cross, either by fording or swimming; if, on
the contrary, any repulse should take place, you and your
men must fight to the last man, whilst we and the king
proceed on our road. Once arrived at the brink of the river,