"I think the patron may be right," said Aramis; "let us try the open air passage."
"The more so, monseigneur," continued the fisherman, "that we should not be able to embark before day, it would require so much labor, and that as soon as daylight appears, a good vedette placed outside the grotto would be necessary, indispensable even, to watch the maneuvers of the lighters or the cruisers that are upon the look-out for us."
"Yes, yes, Yves, your reasons are good; we will go by the beach."
And the three robust Bretons went to the boat, and were beginning to place their rollers underneath it to put it in motion, when the distant barking of dogs was heard, proceeding from the interior.
Aramis darted out of the grotto, followed by Porthos. Dawn just dinted with purple and white the waves and the plain; through the dim light the young melancholy firs waved their tender branches over the pebbles, and long flights of crows were skimming with their black wings over the thin fields of buckwheat. In a quarter of an hour it would be clear daylight; the awakened birds joyously announced it to all nature. The barkings which had been heard, which had stopped the three fishermen engaged in moving the boat, and had brought Aramis and Porthos out of the cavern, were prolonged in a deep gorge within about a league of the grotto.
"It is a pack of hounds," said Porthos; "the dogs are upon a scent."
"Who can be hunting at such a moment as this?" said Aramis.
"And this way, particularly," continued Porthos, "this way, where they may expect the army of the royalists."
"The noise comes nearer. Yes, you are right, Porthos, the dogs are on a scent. But, Yves!" cried Aramis, "come here! come here!"
Yves ran toward him, letting fall the cylinder which he was about to place under the boat when the bishop's call interrupted him.