ChapterLVII:
　　Athos'sVision。
　　WhenthisfaintingofAthoshadceased，thecomte，almostashamedofhavinggivenwaybeforethissuperiornaturalevent，dressedhimselfandorderedhishorse，determinedtoridetoBlois，toopenmorecertaincorrespondenceswitheitherAfrica，D'Artagnan，orAramis。？Infact，thisletterfromAramisinformedtheComtedelaF鑢eofthebadsuccessoftheexpeditionofBelle—Isle。？ItgavehimsufficientdetailsofthedeathofPorthostomovethetenderanddevotedheartofAthostoitsinnermostfibers。？AthoswishedtogoandpayhisfriendPorthosalastvisit。？Torenderthishonortohiscompanioninarms，hemeanttosendtoD'Artagnan，toprevailuponhimtorecommencethepainfulvoyagetoBelle—Isle，toaccomplishinhiscompanythatsadpilgrimagetothetombofthegianthehadsomuchloved，thentoreturntohisdwellingtoobeythatsecretinfluencewhichwasconductinghimtoeternitybyamysteriousroad。？Butscarcelyhadhisjoyousservantsdressedtheirmaster，whomtheysawwithpleasurepreparingforajourneywhichmightdissipatehismelancholy;scarcelyhadthecomte'sgentlesthorsebeensaddledandbroughttothedoor，whenthefatherofRaoulfelthisheadbecomeconfused，hislegsgiveway，andheclearlyperceivedtheimpossibilityofgoingonestepfurther。？Heorderedhimselftobecarriedintothesun;theylaidhimuponhisbedofmosswherehepassedafullhourbeforehecouldrecoverhisspirits。？Nothingcouldbemorenaturalthanthisweaknessaftertheninertreposeofthelatterdays。？Athostookabouillon，togivehimstrength，andbathedhisdriedlipsinaglassfulofthewinehelovedthebest—thatoldAnjouwinementionedbyPorthosinhisadmirablewill。？Then，refreshed，freeinmind，hehadhishorsebroughtagain;butonlywiththeaidofhisservantswasheablepainfullytoclimbintothesaddle。？Hedidnotgoahundredpaces;ashiveringseizedhimagainattheturningoftheroad。
　　"Thisisverystrange！"saidhetohisvaletdechambre，whoaccompaniedhim。
　　"Letusstop，monsieur—Iconjureyou！"repliedthefaithfulservant;
　　"howpaleyouaregetting！"
　　"Thatwillnotpreventmypursuingmyroute，nowIhaveoncestarted，"repliedthecomte。？Andhegavehishorsehisheadagain。？Butsuddenly，theanimal，insteadofobeyingthethoughtofhismaster，stopped。？Amovement，ofwhichAthoswasunconscious，hadcheckedthebit。
　　"Something，"
　　saidAthos，"willsthatIshouldgonofurther。？Supportme，"addedhe，stretchingouthisarms;"quick！
　　comecloser！？Ifeelmymusclesrelax—
　　Ishallfallfrommyhorse。"
　　Thevalethadseenthemovementmadebyhismasteratthemomenthereceivedtheorder。？Hewentuptohimquickly，receivedthecomteinhisarms，andastheywerenotyetsufficientlydistantfromthehousefortheservants，whohadremainedatthedoortowatchtheirmaster'sdeparture，nottoperceivethedisorderintheusuallyregularproceedingofthecomte，thevaletcalledhiscomradesbygesturesandvoice，andallhastenedtohisassistance。？Athoshadgonebutafewstepsonhisreturn，whenhefelthimselfbetteragain。？HisstrengthseemedtoreviveandwithitthedesiretogotoBlois。？Hemadehishorseturnround:but，attheanimal'sfirststeps，hesunkagainintoastateoftorporandanguish。
　　"Well！
　　decidedly，"saidhe，"itiswilledthatIshouldstayathome。"？Hispeopleflockedaroundhim;theyliftedhimfromhishorse，andcarriedhimasquicklyaspossibleintothehouse。？Everythingwaspreparedinhischamber，andtheyputhimtobed。
　　"Youwillbesuretoremember，"saidhe，disposinghimselftosleep，"thatIexpectlettersfromAfricathisveryday。"
　　"MonsieurwillnodoubthearwithpleasurethatBlaisois'ssonisgoneonhorseback，togainanhouroverthecourierofBlois，"repliedhisvaletdechambre。
　　"Thankyou，"repliedAthos，withhisplacidsmile。
　　Thecomtefellasleep，buthisdisturbedslumberresembledtortureratherthanrepose。？Theservantwhowatchedhimsawseveraltimestheexpressionofinternalsufferingshadowedonhisfeatures。？PerhapsAthoswasdreaming。
　　Thedaypassedaway。？Blaisois'ssonreturned;thecourierhadbroughtnonews。？Thecomtereckonedtheminuteswithdespair;heshudderedwhenthoseminutesmadeanhour。？Theideathathewasforgottenseizedhimonce，andbroughtonafearfulpangoftheheart。？Everybodyinthehousehadgivenupallhopesofthecourier—hishourhadlongpassed。？FourtimestheexpresssenttoBloishadrepeatedhisjourney，andtherewasnothingtotheaddressofthecomte。？Athosknewthatthecourieronlyarrivedonceaweek。？Here，then，wasadelayofeightmortaldaystobeendured。？Hecommencedthenightinthispainfulpersuasion。？Allthatasickman，irritatedbysuffering，canaddofmelancholysuppositionstoprobabilitiesalreadygloomy，Athosheapedupduringtheearlyhoursofthisdismalnight。？Thefeverrose:itinvadedthechest，wherethefiresooncaught，accordingtotheexpressionofthephysician，whohadbeenbroughtbackfromBloisbyBlaisoisathislastjourney。？Soonitgainedthehead。？Thephysicianmadetwosuccessivebleedings，whichdislodgeditforthetime，butleftthepatientveryweak，andwithoutpowerofactioninanythingbuthisbrain。？Andyetthisredoubtablefeverhadceased。？Itbesiegedwithitslastpalpitationsthetenseextremities;itendedbyyieldingasmidnightstruck。
　　Thephysician，seeingtheincontestableimprovement，returnedtoBlois，afterhavingorderedsomeprescriptions，anddeclaredthatthecomtewassaved。？ThencommencedforAthosastrange，indefinablestate。？Freetothink，hismindturnedtowardsRaoul，thatbelovedson。？HisimaginationpenetratedthefieldsofAfricaintheenvironsofGigelli，whereM。deBeaufortmusthavelandedwithhisarmy。？Awasteofgrayrocks，renderedgreenincertainpartsbythewatersofthesea，whenitlashedtheshoreinstormsandtempest。？Beyond，theshore，strewedoverwiththeserockslikegravestones，ascended，informofanamphitheateramongmastic—treesandcactus，asortofsmalltown，fullofsmoke，confusednoises，andterrifiedmovements。？Allofasudden，fromthebosomofthissmokearoseaflame，whichsucceeded，creepingalongthehouses，incoveringtheentiresurfaceofthetown，andincreasedbydegrees，unitinginitsredandangryvorticestears，screams，andsupplicatingarmsoutstretchedtoHeaven。
　　Therewas，foramoment，afrightfulp阬e—m阬eoftimbersfallingtopieces，ofswordsbroken，ofstonescalcined，treesburntanddisappearing。？Itwasastrangethingthatinthischaos，inwhichAthosdistinguishedraisedarms，inwhichheheardcries，sobs，andgroans，hedidnotseeonehumanfigure。？Thecannonthunderedatadistance，musketrymadlybarked，theseamoaned，flocksmadetheirescape，boundingovertheverdantslope。？Butnotasoldiertoapplythematchtothebatteriesofcannon，notasailortoassistinmaneuveringthefleet，notashepherdinchargeoftheflocks。？Aftertheruinofthevillage，thedestructionofthefortswhichdominatedit，aruinanddestructionmagicallywroughtwithouttheco—operationofasinglehumanbeing，theflameswereextinguished，thesmokebegantosubside，thendiminishedinintensity，paledanddisappearedentirely。？Nightthencameoverthescene;nightdarkupontheearth，brilliantinthefirmament。？ThelargeblazingstarswhichspangledtheAfricanskyglitteredandgleamedwithoutilluminatinganything。
　　A
　　longsilenceensued，whichgave，foramoment，reposetothetroubledimaginationofAthos;andashefeltthatthatwhichhesawwasnotterminated，heappliedmoreattentivelytheeyesofhisunderstandingonthestrangespectaclewhichhisimaginationhadpresented。？Thisspectaclewassooncontinuedforhim。？A
　　mildpalemoonrosebehindthedeclivitiesofthecoast，streakingatfirsttheundulatingripplesofthesea，whichappearedtohavecalmedaftertheroaringithadsentforthduringthevisionofAthos—themoon，wesay，sheditsdiamondsandopalsuponthebriersandbushesofthehills。？Thegrayrocks，somanysilentandattentivephantoms，appearedtoraisetheirheadstoexaminelikewisethefieldofbattlebythelightofthemoon，andAthosperceivedthatthefield，emptyduringthecombat，wasnowstrewnwithfallenbodies。
　　AninexpressibleshudderoffearandhorrorseizedhissoulasherecognizedthewhiteandblueuniformsofthesoldiersofPicardy，withtheirlongpikesandbluehandles，andmusketsmarkedwiththefleur—de—lisonthebutts。？Whenhesawallthegapingwounds，lookinguptothebrightheavensasiftodemandbackofthemthesoulstowhichtheyhadopenedapassage，—whenhesawtheslaughteredhorses，stiff，theirtongueshangingoutatonesideoftheirmouths，sleepingintheshinybloodcongealedaroundthem，stainingtheirfurnitureandtheirmanes，—whenhesawthewhitehorseofM。deBeaufort，withhisheadbeatentopieces，inthefirstranksofthedead，Athospassedacoldhandoverhisbrow，whichhewasastonishednottofindburning。？Hewasconvincedbythistouchthathewaspresent，asaspectator，withoutdelirium'sdreadfulaid，thedayafterthebattlefoughtupontheshoresofGigellibythearmyoftheexpedition，whichhehadseenleavethecoastofFranceanddisappearuponthedimhorizon，andofwhichhehadsalutedwiththoughtandgesturethelastcannon—shotfiredbythedukeasasignaloffarewelltohiscountry。
　　Whocanpaintthemortalagonywithwhichhissoulfollowed，likeavigilanteye，theseeffigiesofclay—coldsoldiers，andexaminedthem，oneaftertheother，toseeifRaoulsleptamongthem？？WhocanexpresstheintoxicationofjoywithwhichAthosbowedbeforeGod，andthankedHimfornothavingseenhimhesoughtwithsomuchfearamongthedead？？Infact，fallenintheirranks，stiff，icy，thedead，stillrecognizablewithease，seemedtoturnwithcomplacencytowardstheComtedelaF鑢e，tobethebetterseenbyhim，duringhissadreview。？Butyet，hewasastonished，whileviewingallthesebodies，nottoperceivethesurvivors。？Tosuchapointdidtheillusionextend，thatthisvisionwasforhimarealvoyagemadebythefatherintoAfrica，toobtainmoreexactinformationrespectinghisson。
　　Fatigued，therefore，withhavingtraversedseasandcontinents，hesoughtreposeunderoneofthetentsshelteredbehindarock，onthetopofwhichfloatedthewhitefleur—de—lisedpennon。？HelookedforasoldiertoconducthimtothetentofM。deBeaufort。？Then，whilehiseyewaswanderingovertheplain，turningonallsides，hesawawhiteformappearbehindthescentedmyrtles。？Thisfigurewasclothedinthecostumeofanofficer;itheldinitshandabrokensword;itadvancedslowlytowardsAthos，who，stoppingshortandfixinghiseyesuponit，neitherspokenormoved，butwishedtoopenhisarms，becauseinthissilentofficerhehadalreadyrecognizedRaoul。？Thecomteattemptedtoutteracry，butitwasstifledinhisthroat。？Raoul，withagesture，directedhimtobesilent，placinghisfingeronhislipsanddrawingbackbydegrees，withoutAthosbeingabletoseehislegsmove。？Thecomte，stillpalerthanRaoul，followedhisson，painfullytraversingbriersandbushes，stonesandditches，Raoulnotappearingtotouchtheearth，noobstacleseemingtoimpedethelightnessofhismarch。？Thecomte，whomtheinequalitiesofthepathfatigued，soonstopped，exhausted。？Raoulstillcontinuedtobeckonhimtofollowhim。？Thetenderfather，towhomloverestoredstrength，madealasteffort，andclimbedthemountainaftertheyoungman，whoattractedhimbygestureandbysmile。
　　Atlengthhegainedthecrestofthehill，andsaw，thrownoutinblack，uponthehorizonwhitenedbythemoon，theaerialformofRaoul。？Athosreachedforthhishandtogetclosertohisbelovedsonupontheplateau，andthelatteralsostretchedouthis;butsuddenly，asiftheyoungmanhadbeendrawnawayinhisowndespite，stillretreating，helefttheearth，andAthossawtheclearblueskyshinebetweenthefeetofhischildandthegroundofthehill。？Raoulroseinsensiblyintothevoid，smiling，stillcallingwithgesture:—hedepartedtowardsheaven。？Athosutteredacryoftendernessandterror。？Helookedbelowagain。？Hesawacampdestroyed，andallthosewhitebodiesoftheroyalarmy，likesomanymotionlessatoms。？And，then，raisinghishead，hesawthefigureofhissonstillbeckoninghimtoclimbthemysticvoid。
　　ChapterLVIII:
　　TheAngelofDeath。
　　Athoswasatthispartofhismarvelousvision，whenthecharmwassuddenlybrokenbyagreatnoiserisingfromtheoutergates。？Ahorsewasheardgallopingoverthehardgravelofthegreatalley，andthesoundofnoisyandanimatedconversationsascendedtothechamberinwhichthecomtewasdreaming。？Athosdidnotstirfromtheplaceheoccupied;hescarcelyturnedhisheadtowardsthedoortoascertainthesoonerwhatthesenoisescouldbe。？Aheavystepascendedthestairs;thehorse，whichhadrecentlygalloped，departedslowlytowardsthestables。？Greathesitationappearedinthesteps，whichbydegreesapproachedthechamber。？Adoorwasopened，andAthos，turningalittletowardsthepartoftheroomthenoisecamefrom，cried，inaweakvoice:
　　"ItisacourierfromAfrica，isitnot？"
　　"No，monsieurlecomte，"repliedavoicewhichmadethefatherofRaoulstartuprightinhisbed。
　　"Grimaud！"
　　murmuredhe。？Andthesweatbegantopourdownhisface。？Grimaudappearedinthedoorway。？ItwasnolongertheGrimaudwehaveseen，stillyoungwithcourageanddevotion，whenhejumpedthefirstintotheboatdestinedtoconveyRaouldeBragelonnetothevesselsoftheroyalfleet。？'Twasnowasternandpaleoldman，hisclothescoveredwithdust，andhairwhitenedbyoldage。？Hetrembledwhilstleaningagainstthedoor—frame，andwasnearfallingonseeing，bythelightofthelamps，thecountenanceofhismaster。？Thesetwomenwhohadlivedsolongtogetherinacommunityofintelligence，andwhoseeyes，accustomedtoeconomizeexpressions，knewhowtosaysomanythingssilently—thesetwooldfriends，oneasnobleastheotherinheart，iftheywereunequalinfortuneandbirth，remainedtongue—tiedwhilstlookingateachother。？Bytheexchangeofasingleglancetheyhadjustreadtothebottomofeachother'shearts。？Theoldservitorboreuponhiscountenancetheimpressionofagriefalreadyold，theoutwardtokenofagrimfamiliaritywithwoe。？Heappearedtohavenolongerinusemorethanasingleversionofhisthoughts。？Asformerlyhewasaccustomednottospeakmuch，hewasnowaccustomednottosmileatall。？Athosreadataglancealltheseshadesuponthevisageofhisfaithfulservant，andinthesametonehewouldhaveemployedtospeaktoRaoulinhisdream:
　　"Grimaud，"
　　saidhe，"Raoulisdead。？Isitnotso？"
　　BehindGrimaudtheotherservantslistenedbreathlessly，withtheireyesfixeduponthebedoftheirsickmaster。？Theyheardtheterriblequestion，andaheart—breakingsilencefollowed。
　　"Yes，"
　　repliedtheoldman，heavingthemonosyllablefromhischestwithahoarse，brokensigh。
　　Thenarosevoicesoflamentation，whichgroanedwithoutmeasure，andfilledwithregretsandprayersthechamberwheretheagonizedfathersoughtwithhiseyestheportraitofhisson。？ThiswasforAthoslikethetransitionwhichledtohisdream。？Withoututteringacry，withoutsheddingatear，patient，mild，resignedasamartyr，heraisedhiseyestowardsHeaven，inordertheretoseeagain，risingabovethemountainofGigelli，thebelovedshadethatwasleavinghimatthemomentofGrimaud'sarrival。？Withoutdoubt，whilelookingtowardstheheavens，resuminghismarvelousdream，herepassedbythesameroadbywhichthevision，atoncesoterribleandsweet，hadledhimbefore;forafterhavinggentlyclosedhiseyes，hereopenedthemandbegantosmile:hehadjustseenRaoul，whohadsmileduponhim。？Withhishandsjoineduponhisbreast，hisfaceturnedtowardsthewindow，bathedbythefreshairofnight，whichbroughtuponitswingsthearomaoftheflowersandthewoods，Athosentered，neveragaintocomeoutofit，intothecontemplationofthatparadisewhichthelivingneversee。？Godwilled，nodoubt，toopentothiselectthetreasuresofeternalbeatitude，atthishourwhenothermentremblewiththeideaofbeingseverelyreceivedbytheLord，andclingtothislifetheyknow，inthedreadoftheotherlifeofwhichtheygetbutmerestglimpsesbythedismalmurkytorchofdeath。？Athoswasspirit—guidedbythepureserenesoulofhisson，whichaspiredtobelikethepaternalsoul。？Everythingforthisjustmanwasmelodyandperfumeintheroughroadsoulstaketoreturntothecelestialcountry。？Afteranhourofthisecstasy，Athossoftlyraisedhishandsaswhiteaswax;thesmiledidnotquithislips，andhemurmuredlow，solowasscarcelytobeaudible，thesethreewordsaddressedtoGodortoRaoul:
　　"HERE
　　IAM！"
　　Andhishandsfellslowly，asthoughhehimselfhadlaidthemonthebed。
　　Deathhadbeenkindandmildtothisnoblecreature。？Ithadsparedhimthetorturesoftheagony，convulsionsofthelastdeparture;hadopenedwithanindulgentfingerthegatesofeternitytothatnoblesoul。？Godhadnodoubtordereditthusthatthepiousremembranceofthisdeathshouldremainintheheartsofthosepresent，andinthememoryofothermen—adeathwhichcausedtobelovedthepassagefromthislifetotheotherbythosewhoseexistenceuponthisearthleadsthemnottodreadthelastjudgment。？Athospreserved，evenintheeternalsleep，thatplacidandsinceresmile—anornamentwhichwastoaccompanyhimtothetomb。？Thequietudeandcalmofhisfinefeaturesmadehisservantsforalongtimedoubtwhetherhehadreallyquittedlife。？Thecomte'speoplewishedtoremoveGrimaud，who，fromadistance，devouredthefacenowquicklygrowingmarble—pale，anddidnotapproach，frompiousfearofbringingtohimthebreathofdeath。？ButGrimaud，fatiguedashewas，refusedtoleavetheroom。？Hesathimselfdownuponthethreshold，watchinghismasterwiththevigilanceofasentinel，jealoustoreceiveeitherhisfirstwakinglookorhislastdyingsigh。？Thenoisesallwerequietinthehouse—everyonerespectedtheslumberoftheirlord。？ButGrimaud，byanxiouslylistening，perceivedthatthecomtenolongerbreathed。？Heraisedhimselfwithhishandsleaningontheground，lookedtoseeiftheredidnotappearsomemotioninthebodyofhismaster。？Nothing！？Fearseizedhim;herosecompletelyup，and，attheverymoment，heardsomeonecomingupthestairs。？Anoiseofspursknockingagainstasword—awarlikesoundfamiliartohisears—
　　stoppedhimashewasgoingtowardsthebedofAthos。？Avoicemoresonorousthanbrassorsteelresoundedwithinthreepacesofhim。
　　"Athos！？Athos！myfriend！"criedthisvoice，agitatedeventotears。
　　"MonsieurleChevalierd'Artagnan，"falteredoutGrimaud。
　　"Whereishe？？Whereishe？"continuedthemusketeer。？Grimaudseizedhisarminhisbonyfingers，andpointedtothebed，uponthesheetsofwhichthelividtintsofdeathalreadyshowed。
　　A
　　chokedrespiration，theoppositetoasharpcry，swelledthethroatofD'Artagnan。？Headvancedontip—toe，trembling，frightenedatthenoisehisfeetmadeonthefloor，hisheartrentbyanamelessagony。？HeplacedhiseartothebreastofAthos，hisfacetothecomte'smouth。？Neithernoise，norbreath！？D'Artagnandrewback。？Grimaud，whohadfollowedhimwithhiseyes，andforwhomeachofhismovementshadbeenarevelation，cametimidly;seatedhimselfatthefootofthebed，andgluedhislipstothesheetwhichwasraisedbythestiffenedfeetofhismaster。？Thenlargedropsbegantoflowfromhisredeyes。？Thisoldmanininvincibledespair，whowept，bentdoubledwithoututteringaword，presentedthemosttouchingspectaclethatD'Artagnan，inalifesofilledwithemotion，hadevermetwith。
　　Thecaptainresumedstandingincontemplationbeforethatsmilingdeadman，whoseemedtohaveburnishedhislastthought，togivehisbestfriend，themanhehadlovednexttoRaoul，agraciouswelcomeevenbeyondlife。？Andforreplytothatexaltedflatteryofhospitality，D'ArtagnanwentandkissedAthosferventlyonthebrow，andwithhistremblingfingersclosedhiseyes。？Thenheseatedhimselfbythepillowwithoutdreadofthatdeadman，whohadbeensokindandaffectionatetohimforfiveandthirtyyears。？Hewasfeedinghissoulwiththeremembrancesthenoblevisageofthecomtebroughttohismindincrowds—somebloomingandcharmingasthatsmile—somedark，dismal，andicyasthatvisagewithitseyesnowclosedtoalleternity。
　　Allatoncethebitterfloodwhichmountedfromminutetominuteinvadedhisheart，andswelledhisbreastalmosttobursting。？Incapableofmasteringhisemotion，hearose，andtearinghimselfviolentlyfromthechamberwherehehadjustfounddeadhimtowhomhecametoreportthenewsofthedeathofPorthos，heutteredsobssoheart—rendingthattheservants，whoseemedonlytowaitforanexplosionofgrief，answeredtoitbytheirlugubriousclamors，andthedogsofthelatecomtebytheirlamentablehowlings。？Grimaudwastheonlyonewhodidnotliftuphisvoice。？Evenintheparoxysmofhisgriefhewouldnothavedaredtoprofanethedead，orforthefirsttimedisturbtheslumberofhismaster。？HadnotAthosalwaysbiddenhimbedumb？
　　AtdaybreakD'Artagnan，whohadwanderedaboutthelowerhall，bitinghisfingerstostiflehissighs—D'Artagnanwentuponcemore;andwatchingthemomentswhenGrimaudturnedhisheadtowardshim，hemadehimasigntocometohim，whichthefaithfulservantobeyedwithoutmakingmorenoisethanashadow。？D'Artagnanwentdownagain，followedbyGrimaud;andwhenhehadgainedthevestibule，takingtheoldman'shands，"Grimaud，"saidhe，"Ihaveseenhowthefatherdied;nowletmeknowabouttheson。"
　　Grimauddrewfromhisbreastalargeletter，upontheenvelopeofwhichwastracedtheaddressofAthos。？HerecognizedthewritingofM。deBeaufort，broketheseal，andbegantoread，whilewalkingaboutinthefirststeel—chillraysofdawn，inthedarkalleyofoldlimes，markedbythestillvisiblefootstepsofthecomtewhohadjustdied。
　　ChapterLIX:
　　TheBulletin。
　　TheDucdeBeaufortwrotetoAthos。？Theletterdestinedforthelivingonlyreachedthedead。？Godhadchangedtheaddress。
　　"MYDEARCOMTE，"wrotetheprince，inhislarge，school—boy'shand，—"agreatmisfortunehasstruckusamidstagreattriumph。？Thekinglosesoneofthebravestofsoldiers。？Iloseafriend。？YouloseM。deBragelonne。？Hehasdiedgloriously，sogloriouslythatI
　　havenotthestrengthtoweepasIcouldwish。？Receivemysadcompliments，mydearcomte。？Heavendistributestrialsaccordingtothegreatnessofourhearts。？Thisisanimmenseone，butnotaboveyourcourage。？Yourgoodfriend，"LE
　　DUCDEBEAUFORT。"
　　Thelettercontainedarelationwrittenbyoneoftheprince'ssecretaries。？Itwasthemosttouchingrecital，andthemosttrue，ofthatdismalepisodewhichunraveledtwoexistences。？D'Artagnan，accustomedtobattleemotions，andwithaheartarmedagainsttenderness，couldnothelpstartingonreadingthenameofRaoul，thenameofthatbelovedboywhohadbecomeashadenow—likehisfather。
　　"Inthemorning，"saidtheprince'ssecretary，"monseigneurcommandedtheattack。？NormandyandPicardyhadtakenpositionsintherocksdominatedbytheheightsofthemountain，uponthedeclivityofwhichwereraisedthebastionsofGigelli。
　　"Thecannonopenedtheaction;theregimentsmarchedfullofresolution;thepikemenwithpikeselevated，themusket—bearerswiththeirweaponsready。？Theprincefollowedattentivelythemarchandmovementsofthetroops，soastobeabletosustainthemwithastrongreserve。？Withmonseigneurweretheoldestcaptainsandhisaides—de—camp。？M。leVicomtedeBragelonnehadreceivedordersnottoleavehishighness。？Inthemeantimetheenemy'scannon，whichatfirstthunderedwithlittlesuccessagainstthemasses，begantoregulatetheirfire，andtheballs，betterdirected，killedseveralmenneartheprince。？Theregimentsformedincolumn，and，advancingagainsttheramparts，wereratherroughlyhandled。？Therewasasortofhesitationinourtroops，whofoundthemselvesill—secondedbytheartillery。？Infact，thebatterieswhichhadbeenestablishedtheeveningbeforehadbutaweakanduncertainaim，onaccountoftheirposition。？Theupwarddirectionoftheaimlessenedthejustnessoftheshotsaswellastheirrange。
　　"Monseigneur，comprehendingthebadeffectofthispositiononthesiegeartillery，commandedthefrigatesmooredinthelittleroadtocommencearegularfireagainsttheplace。？M。deBragelonneofferedhimselfatoncetocarrythisorder。？Butmonseigneurrefusedtoacquiesceinthevicomte'srequest。？Monseigneurwasright，forhelovedandwishedtosparetheyoungnobleman。？Hewasquiteright，andtheeventtookuponitselftojustifyhisforesightandrefusal;forscarcelyhadthesergeantchargedwiththemessagesolicitedbyM。
　　deBragelonnegainedtheseashore，whentwoshotsfromlongcarbinesissuedfromtheenemy'sranksandlaidhimlow。？Thesergeantfell，dyeingthesandwithhisblood;observingwhich，M。
　　deBragelonnesmiledatmonseigneur，whosaidtohim，'Yousee，vicomte，Ihavesavedyourlife。？Reportthat，someday，toM。leComtedelaF鑢e，inorderthat，learningitfromyou，hemaythankme。'？Theyoungnoblemansmiledsadly，andrepliedtotheduke，'Itistrue，monseigneur，thatbutforyourkindnessI
　　shouldhavebeenkilled，wherethepoorsergeanthasfallen，andshouldbeatrest。'？M。deBragelonnemadethisreplyinsuchatonethatmonseigneuransweredhimwarmly，'VraiDieu！？Youngman，onewouldsaythatyourmouthwatersfordeath;but，bythesoulofHenryIV。，I
　　havepromisedyourfathertobringyoubackalive;and，pleasetheLord，Imeantokeepmyword。'
　　"MonseigneurdeBragelonnecolored，andreplied，inalowervoice，'Monseigneur，pardonme，Ibeseechyou。？Ihavealwayshadadesiretomeetgoodopportunities;anditissodelightfultodistinguishourselvesbeforeourgeneral，particularlywhenthatgeneralisM。leDucdeBeaufort。'
　　"Monseigneurwasalittlesoftenedbythis;and，turningtotheofficerswhosurroundedhim，gavedifferentorders。？Thegrenadiersofthetworegimentsgotnearenoughtotheditchesandintrenchmentstolaunchtheirgrenades，whichhadbutsmalleffect。？Inthemeanwhile，M。d'Estr閑s，whocommandedthefleet，havingseentheattemptofthesergeanttoapproachthevessels，understoodthathemustactwithoutorders，andopenedfire。？ThentheArabs，findingthemselvesseriouslyinjuredbytheballsfromthefleet，andbeholdingthedestructionandtheruinoftheirwalls，utteredthemostfearfulcries。？Theirhorsemendescendedthemountainatagallop，bentovertheirsaddles，andrushedfulltiltuponthecolumnsofinfantry，which，crossingtheirpikes，stoppedthismadassault。？Repulsedbythefirmattitudeofthebattalion，theArabsthrewthemselveswithfurytowardsthe閠at—major，whichwasnotonitsguardatthatmoment。
　　"Thedangerwasgreat;monseigneurdrewhissword;hissecretariesandpeopleimitatedhim;theofficersofthesuiteengagedincombatwiththefuriousArabs。？ItwasthenM。deBragelonnewasabletosatisfytheinclinationhehadsoclearlyshownfromthecommencementoftheaction。？HefoughtneartheprincewiththevalorofaRoman，andkilledthreeArabswithhissmallsword。？Butitwasevidentthathisbraverydidnotarisefromthatsentimentofpridesonaturaltoallwhofight。？Itwasimpetuous，affected，evenforced;hesoughttoglut，intoxicatehimselfwithstrifeandcarnage。？Heexcitedhimselftosuchadegreethatmonseigneurcalledtohimtostop。？Hemusthaveheardthevoiceofmonseigneur，becausewewhowereclosetohimheardit。？Hedidnot，however，stop，butcontinuedhiscoursetotheintrenchments。？AsM。deBragelonnewasawell—disciplinedofficer，thisdisobediencetotheordersofmonseigneurverymuchsurprisedeverybody，andM。deBeaufortredoubledhisearnestness，crying，'Stop，Bragelonne！？Whereareyougoing？？Stop，'repeatedmonseigneur，'Icommandyou！'
　　"Weall，imitatingthegestureofM。leduc，weallraisedourhands。？Weexpectedthatthecavalierwouldturnbridle;butM。deBragelonnecontinuedtoridetowardsthepalisades。
　　"'Stop，Bragelonne！'repeatedtheprince，inaveryloudvoice，'stop！inthenameofyourfather！'
　　"AtthesewordsM。deBragelonneturnedround;hiscountenanceexpressedalivelygrief，buthedidnotstop;wethenconcludedthathishorsemusthaverunawaywithhim。？WhenM。leducsawcausetoconcludethatthevicomtewasnolongermasterofhishorse，andhadwatchedhimprecedethefirstgrenadiers，hishighnesscried，'Musketeers，killhishorse！？Ahundredpistolesforthemanwhokillshishorse！'？Butwhocouldexpecttohitthebeastwithoutatleastwoundinghisrider？？Noonedaredtheattempt。？Atlengthonepresentedhimself;hewasasharp—shooteroftheregimentofPicardy，namedLuzerne，whotookaimattheanimal，fired，andhithiminthequarters，forwesawthebloodreddenthehairofthehorse。？Insteadoffalling，thecursedjennetwasirritated，andcarriedhimonmorefuriouslythanever。？EveryPicardwhosawthisunfortunateyoungmanrushingontomeetcertaindeath，shoutedintheloudestmanner，'Throwyourselfoff，monsieurlevicomte！—off！—off！throwyourselfoff！'？M。deBragelonnewasanofficermuchbelovedinthearmy。？Alreadyhadthevicomtearrivedwithinpistol—shotoftheramparts，whenadischargewaspoureduponhimthatenshroudedhiminfireandsmoke。？Welostsightofhim;thesmokedispersed;
　　hewasonfoot，upright;hishorsewaskilled。
　　"ThevicomtewassummonedtosurrenderbytheArabs，buthemadethemanegativesignwithhishead，andcontinuedtomarchtowardsthepalisades。？Thiswasamortalimprudence。？Neverthelesstheentirearmywaspleasedthathewouldnotretreat，sinceill—chancehadledhimsonear。？Hemarchedafewpacesfurther，andthetworegimentsclappedtheirhands。？Itwasatthismomenttheseconddischargeshookthewalls，andtheVicomtedeBragelonneagaindisappearedinthesmoke;butthistimethesmokedispersedinvain;wenolongersawhimstanding。？Hewasdown，withhisheadlowerthanhislegs，amongthebushes，andtheArabsbegantothinkofleavingtheirintrenchmentstocomeandcutoffhisheadortakehisbody—asisthecustomwiththeinfidels。？ButMonseigneurleDucdeBeauforthadfollowedallthiswithhiseyes，andthesadspectacledrewfromhimmanypainfulsighs。？Hethencriedaloud，seeingtheArabsrunninglikewhitephantomsamongthemastic—trees，'Grenadiers！lancers！willyouletthemtakethatnoblebody？'