The second interview between the former musketeers was notso formal and threatening as the first. Athos, with hissuperior understanding, wisely deemed that the supper tablewould be the most complete and satisfactory point ofreunion, and at the moment when his friends, in deference tohis deportment and sobriety, dared scarcely speak of some oftheir former good dinners, he was the first to propose thatthey should all assemble around some well spread table andabandon themselves unreservedly to their own naturalcharacter and manners - a freedom which had formerlycontributed so much to that good understanding between themwhich gave them the name of the inseparables. For differentreasons this was an agreeable proposition to them all, andit was therefore agreed that each should leave a very exactaddress and that upon the request of any of the associates ameeting should be convoked at a famous eating house in theRue de la Monnaie, of the sign of the Hermitage. The firstrendezvous was fixed for the following Wednesday, at eighto'clock in the evening precisely.

On that day, in fact, the four friends arrived punctually atthe hour, each from his own abode or occupation. Porthos hadbeen trying a new horse; D'Artagnan was on guard at theLouvre; Aramis had been to visit one of his penitents in theneighborhood; and Athos, whose domicile was established inthe Rue Guenegaud, found himself close at hand. They were,therefore, somewhat surprised to meet altogether at the doorof the Hermitage, Athos starting out from the Pont Neuf,Porthos by the Rue de la Roule, D'Artagnan by the Rue desFosse Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, and Aramis by the Rue deBethisy.

The first words exchanged between the four friends, onaccount of the ceremony which each of them mingled withtheir demonstration, were somewhat forced and even therepast began with a kind of stiffness. Athos perceived thisembarrassment, and by way of supplying an effectual remedy,called for four bottles of champagne.

At this order, given in Athos's habitually calm manner, theface of the Gascon relaxed and Porthos's brow grew smooth.Aramis was astonished. He knew that Athos not only neverdrank, but more, that he had a kind of repugnance to wine.This astonishment was doubled when Aramis saw Athos fill abumper and toss it off with all his former enthusiasm. Hiscompanions followed his example. In a very few minutes thefour bottles were empty and this excellent specificsucceeded in dissipating even the slightest cloud that mighthave rested on their spirits. Now the four friends began tospeak loud, scarcely waiting till one had finished beforeanother began, and each assumed his favorite attitude on orat the table. Soon - strange fact - Aramis undid twobuttons of his doublet, seeing which, Porthos unfastened hisentirely.

Battles, long journeys, blows given and received, sufficedfor the first themes of conversation, which turned upon thesilent struggles sustained against him who was now calledthe great cardinal.

"Faith," said Aramis, laughing, "we have praised the deadenough, let us revile the living a little; I should like tosay something evil of Mazarin; is it permissible?"

"Go on, go on," replied D'Artagnan, laughing heartily;"relate your story and I will applaud it if it is a goodone."

"A great prince," said Aramis, "with whom Mazarin sought analliance, was invited by him to send him a list of theconditions on which he would do him the honor to negotiatewith him. The prince, who had a great repugnance to treatwith such an ill-bred fellow, made out a list, against thegrain, and sent it. In this list there were three conditionswhich displeased Mazarin and he offered the prince tenthousand crowns to renounce them."

"Ah, ha, ha!" laughed the three friends, "not a bad bargain;and there was no fear of being taken at his word; what didthe prince do then?"

"The prince immediately sent fifty thousand francs toMazarin, begging him never to write to him again, andoffered twenty thousand francs more, on condition that hewould never speak to him. What did Mazarin do?"

"Stormed!" suggested Athos.

"Beat the messenger!" cried Porthos.

"Accepted the money!" said D'Artagnan.

"You have guessed it," answered Aramis; and they all laughedso heartily that the host appeared in order to inquirewhether the gentlemen wanted anything; he thought they werefighting.

At last their hilarity calmed down and:

"Faith!" exclaimed D'Artagnan to the two friends, "you maywell wish ill to Mazarin; for I assure you, on his side hewishes you no good."

"Pooh! really?" asked Athos. "If I thought the fellow knewme by my name I would be rebaptized, for fear it might bethought I knew him."

"He knows you better by your actions than your name; he isquite aware that there are two gentlemen who greatly aidedthe escape of Monsieur de Beaufort, and he has instigated anactive search for them, I can answer for it."

"By whom?"

"By me; and this morning he sent for me to ask me if I hadobtained any information."

"And what did you reply?"

"That I had none as yet; but that I was to dine to-day withtwo gentlemen, who would be able to give me some."

"You told him that?" said Porthos, a broad smile spreadingover his honest face. "Bravo! and you are not afraid ofthat, Athos?"

"No," replied Athos, "it is not the search of Mazarin that Ifear."

"Now," said Aramis, "tell me a little what you do fear."

"Nothing for the present; at least, nothing in goodearnest."

"And with regard to the past?" asked Porthos.

"Oh! the past is another thing," said Athos, sighing; "thepast and the future."

"Are you afraid for your young Raoul?" asked Aramis.

"Well," said D'Artagnan, "one is never killed in a firstengagement."

"Nor in the second," said Aramis

"Nor in the third," returned Porthos; "and even when one iskilled, one rises again, the proof of which is, that here weare!"

"No," said Athos, "it is not Raoul about whom I am anxious,for I trust he will conduct himself like a gentleman; and ifhe is killed - well, he will die bravely; but hold - should such a misfortune happen - well - " Athos passedhis hand across his pale brow.

"Well?" asked Aramis.

"Well, I shall look upon it as an expiation."

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan; "I know what you mean."

"And I, too," added Aramis; "but you must not think of that,Athos; what is past, is past."

"I don't understand," said Porthos.

"The affair at Armentieres," whispered D'Artagnan.

"The affair at Armentieres?" asked he again.

"Milady."

"Oh, yes!" said Porthos; "true, I had forgotten it!"

Athos looked at him intently.

"You have forgotten it, Porthos?" said he.

"Faith! yes, it is so long ago," answered Porthos.

"This affair does not, then, weigh upon your conscience?"

"Faith, no."

"And you, D'Artagnan?"

"I - I own that when my mind returns to that terribleperiod I have no recollection of anything but the rigidcorpse of poor Madame Bonancieux. Yes, yes," murmured he, "Ihave often felt regret for the victim, but never the veryslightest remorse for the assassin."

Athos shook his dead doubtfully.

"Consider," said Aramis, "if you admit divine justice andits participation in the things of this world, that womanwas punished by the will of heaven. We were but theinstruments, that is all."

"But as to free will, Aramis?"

"How acts the judge? He has a free will, yet he fearlesslycondemns. What does the executioner? He is master of hisarm, yet he strikes without remorse."

"The executioner!" muttered Athos, as if arrested by somerecollection.

"I know that it is terrible," said D'Artagnan; "but when Ireflect that we have killed English, Rochellais, Spaniards,nay, even French, who never did us any other harm but to aimat and to miss us, whose only fault was to cross swords withus and to be unable to ward off our blows - I can, on myhonor, find an excuse for my share in the murder of thatwoman."

"As for me," said Porthos, "now that you have reminded me ofit, Athos, I have the scene again before me, as if I nowwere there. Milady was there, as it were, where you sit."(Athos changed color.) "I - I was where D'Artagnan stands.I wore a long sword which cut like a Damascus - youremember it, Aramis for you always called it Balizarde.Well, I swear to you, all three, that had the executioner ofBethune - was he not of Bethune? - yes, egad! of Bethune!- not been there, I would have cut off the head of thatinfamous being without thinking of it, or even afterthinking of it. She was a most atrocious woman."

"And then," said Aramis, with the tone of philosophicalindifference which he had assumed since he had belonged tothe church and in which there was more atheism thanconfidence in God, "what is the use of thinking of it all?At the last hour we must confess this action and God knowsbetter than we can whether it is a crime, a fault, or ameritorious deed. I repent of it? Egad! no. Upon my honorand by the holy cross; I only regret it because she was awoman."

"The most satisfactory part of the matter," said D'Artagnan,"is that there remains no trace of it."

"She had a son," observed Athos.

"Oh! yes, I know that," said D'Artagnan, "and you mentionedit to me; but who knows what has become of him? If theserpent be dead, why not its brood? Do you think his uncleDe Winter would have brought up that young viper? De Winterprobably condemned the son as he had done the mother."

"Then," said Athos, "woe to De Winter, for the child haddone no harm."

"May the devil take me, if the child be not dead," saidPorthos. "There is so much fog in that detestable country,at least so D'Artagnan declares."

Just as the quaint conclusion reached by Porthos was aboutto bring back hilarity to faces now more or less clouded,hasty footsteps were heard upon the stair and some oneknocked at the door.

"Come in," cried Athos.

"Please your honors," said the host, "a person in a greathurry wishes to speak to one of you."

"To which of us?" asked all the four friends.

"To him who is called the Comte de la Fere."

"It is I," said Athos, "and what is the name of the person?"

"Grimaud."

"Ah!" exclaimed Athos, turning pale. "Back already! What canhave happened, then, to Bragelonne?"

"Let him enter," cried D'Artagnan; "let him come up."

But Grimaud had already mounted the staircase and waswaiting on the last step; so springing into the room hemotioned the host to leave it. The door being closed, thefour friends waited in expectation. Grimaud's agitation, hispallor, the sweat which covered his face, the dust whichsoiled his clothes, all indicated that he was the messengerof some important and terrible news.

"Your honors," said he, "that woman had a child; that childhas become a man; the tigress had a little one, the tigerhas roused himself; he is ready to spring upon you - beware!"

Athos glanced around at his friends with a melancholy smile.Porthos turned to look at his sword, which was hanging onthe wall; Aramis seized his knife; D'Artagnan arose.

"What do you mean, Grimaud?" he exclaimed.

"That Milady's son has left England, that he is in France,on his road to Paris, if he be not here already."

"The devil he is!" said Porthos. "Are you sure of it?"

"Certain," replied Grimaud.

This announcement was received in silence. Grimaud was sobreathless, so exhausted, that he had fallen back upon achair. Athos filled a beaker with champagne and gave it tohim.

"Well, after all," said D'Artagnan, "supposing that helives, that he comes to Paris; we have seen many other such.Let him come."

"Yes," echoed Porthos, glancing affectionately at his sword,still hanging on the wall; "we can wait for him; let himcome."

"Moreover, he is but a child," said Aramis.

Grimaud rose.

"A child!" he exclaimed. "Do you know what he has done, thischild? Disguised as a monk he discovered the whole historyin confession from the executioner of Bethune, and havingconfessed him, after having learned everything from him, hegave him absolution by planting this dagger into his heart.See, it is on fire yet with his hot blood, for it is notthirty hours since it was drawn from the wound."

And Grimaud threw the dagger on the table.

D'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis rose and in one spontaneousmotion rushed to their swords. Athos alone remained seated,calm and thoughtful.

"And you say he is dressed as a monk, Grimaud?"

"Yes, as an Augustine monk."

"What sized man is he?"

"About my height; thin, pale, with light blue eyes and tawnyflaxen hair."

"And he did not see Raoul?" asked Athos.

"Yes, on the contrary, they met, and it was the viscounthimself who conducted him to the bed of the dying man."

Athos, in his turn, rising without speaking, went andunhooked his sword.

"Heigh, sir," said D'Artagnan, trying to laugh, "do you knowwe look very much like a flock of silly, mouse-evadingwomen! How is it that we, four men who have faced armieswithout blinking, begin to tremble at the mention of achild?"

"It is true," said Athos, "but this child comes in the nameof Heaven."

And very soon they left the inn.