"Yes, certainly! you are right. I have remarked it also, and the observation was the more naturally made, for before the last two fatal days, we saw barks and shallops arrive by dozens."
"I must inquire," said Aramis, suddenly, and with great agitation. "And then, if I had a raft constructed—"
"But there are some canoes, my friend; shall I go on board one?"
"A canoe!—a canoe! Can you think of such a thing, Porthos? A canoe to be upset in. No, no," said the bishop of Vannes; "it is not our trade to ride upon the waves. We will wait, we will wait."
And Aramis continued walking about with increased agitation. Porthos, who grew tired of following all the feverish movements of his friend—Porthos, who, in his calmness and belief, understood nothing of the sort of exasperation which was betrayed by his continual convulsive starts—Porthos stopped him. "Let us sit down upon this rock," said he. "Place yourself there, close to me, Aramis, and I conjure you, for the last time, to explain to me in a manner I can comprehend—explain to me what we are doing here."
"Porthos," said Aramis, much embarrassed.
"I know that the false king wished to dethrone the true king. That is a fact, that I understand. Well—"
"Yes," said Aramis.
"I know that the false king formed the project of selling Belle-Isle to the English. I understand that too."
"Yes."