tunately, monsieur," said he, "kings do not know how to follow good advice."
"Ah, my lord, Charles II. is not a king," replied Athos, smiling in his turn, but with a very different expression than Monk had done.
"Let us terminate this, Monsieur le Comte—that is your desire, is it not?"
Athos bowed.
"I will give orders that these two casks shall be transported whither you please. Where are you lodging, monsieur?"
"In a little bourg, at the mouth of the river, your honor."
"Oh, I know the bourg; it consists of five or six houses, does it not?"
"Exactly. Well, I inhabit the first—two net-makers occupy it with me; it is their bark which placed me on shore."
"But your own vessel, monsieur?"
"My vessel is at anchor, a quarter of a mile at sea, and waits for me."
"You do not think, however, of setting out immediately?"
"My lord, I will try once more to convince your honor."
"You will not succeed," replied Monk; "but it is of consequence that you should quit Newcastle without leaving on your passage the least suspicion that might prove injurious to me or you. To-morrow my officers think Lambert will attack me. I, on the contrary, will be bound he will not stir; it is, in my opinion, impossible. Lambert leads an army devoid of homogeneous principles, and there is no possible army with such elements. I have taught my soldiers to consider my authority subordinate to another, which causes that after me, around me and beneath me, they still look for something. It would result, that if I were dead, whatever might happen, my army would not be demoralized all at once; it results, that if I chose to absent myself, for instance, as it does please me to do sometimes, there would not be in my camp the shadow of uneasiness or disorder. I am the magnet—the sympathetic and natural strength of the English. All those scattered arms that will be sent against me I shall attract to myself. Lambert, at this moment, commands eighteen thousand deserters; but I have never mentioned that to my officers, you may easily suppose. Nothing is more useful to an army than the expectation of a coming battle; everybody is awake—everybody is on his guard. I tell you this that you may live in perfect security. Do not be in a hurry, then, to cross the seas;
