LOUISE DE LA VALLIEKE. 393 already informed of what had taken place, by a letter from D'Artagnan. Raoul arrived at his father's; Athos, after having held out his hand to him and embraced him most affectionately, made a sign for him to sit down. "I know you come to me as a man would go to a friend, vicomte, whenever he is suffering; tell me, therefore, what is it that brings you now?" The young man bowed, and began his recital: more than once, in the course of it, his tears almost choked his utter- ance, and a sob, checked in his throat, compelled him to suspend his narrative for a few minutes. However, he finished at last. Athos most probably already knew how matters stood, as we have just now said, D'Artagnan had already written to him; but, preserving until the conclusion that calm, unruffled composure of manner which constituted the almost superhuman side of his character, he replied: "Raoul, I do not believe there is a word of truth in the rumors; I do not believe in the existence of what you fear, although I do not deny that persons most entitled to the fullest credit have already conversed with me on the sub- ject. In my heart and soul I think it utterly impossible that the king could be guilty of such an outrage upon a gentleman. 1 will answer for the king, therefore, and Avill soon bring you back the proof of what I say." Raoul, wavering like a drunken man between what he had seen with his own eyes and the imperturbable faith he had in a man who had never told a falsehood, bowed, and simply answered: "Go, then. Monsieur /e Comte; I will await your return." And he sat down, burying his face in his hands. Athos dressed, and then left him, in order to wait upon the king; the result of that interview is already known to our readers. When he returned to his lodgings, Raoul, pale and de- jected, had not quitted his attitude of despair. At the sound, however, of the opening doors, and of his father's footsteps as he approached him, the young man raised his head. Athos' face was very pale, his head uncovered, and his manner full of seriousness; he gave his cloak and hat to the lackey, dismissed him with a gesture, and sat down near Kaoul. "Well, monsieur," inquired the young man, "are you quite convinced now?" "I am, Raoul; the king loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere." "He confesses it, then?" cried Kaoul.
