“I am to be a soldier then?” said the young man.  “Oh, monsieur, I thank you with all my heart.”

“Adieu, count,” said the Abbe d’Herblay; “I return to my convent.”

“Adieu, abbe,” said the coadjutor, “I am to preach to-morrow and have twenty texts to examine this evening.”

“Adieu, gentlemen,” said the count; “I am going to sleep twenty-four hours; I am just falling down with fatigue.”

The three men saluted one another, whilst exchanging a last look.

Scarron followed their movements with a glance from the corner of his eye.

“Not one of them will do as he says,” he murmured, with his little monkey smile; “but they may do as they please, the brave gentlemen!  Who knows if they will not manage to restore to me my pension?  They can move their arms, they can, and that is much.  Alas, I have only my tongue, but I will try to show that it is good for something.  Ho, there, Champenois! here, it is eleven o’clock.  Come and roll me to bed.  Really, that Demoiselle d’Aubigne is very charming!”

So the invalid disappeared soon afterward and went into his sleeping-room; and one by one the lights in the salon of the Rue des Tournelles were extinguished.

22

Saint Denis.

The day had begun to break when Athos arose and dressed himself.  It was plain, by a paleness still greater than usual, and by those traces which loss of sleep leaves on the face, that he must have passed almost the whole of the night without sleeping.  Contrary to the custom of a man so firm and decided, there was this morning in his personal appearance something tardy and irresolute.

He was occupied with the preparations for Raoul’s departure and was seeking to gain time.  In the first place he himself furbished a sword, which he drew from its perfumed leather sheath; he examined it to see if its hilt was well guarded and if the blade was firmly attached to the hilt.  Then he placed at the bottom of the valise belonging to the young man a small bag of louis, called Olivain, the lackey who had followed him from Blois, and made him pack the valise under his own eyes, watchful to see that everything should be put in which might be useful to a young man entering on his first campaign.

At length, after occupying about an hour in these preparations, he opened the door of the room in which the vicomte slept, and entered.

The sun, already high, penetrated into the room through the window, the curtains of which Raoul had neglected to close on the previous evening.  He was still sleeping, his head gracefully reposing on his arm.