"Ah!" she said, in the same tone of voice, "it is not I who am going to speak to him."
"Who, then?"
"It is Madame who has sent for him."
"Very good," cried D'Artagnan, "it is Madame, is it? In an hour's time, then, the poor fellow will be cured."
"Or else dead," said Montalais, in a voice full of compassion. "Adieu, Monsieur d'Artagnan," she said; and she ran to join Raoul, who was waiting for her at a little distance from the door, very much puzzled and uneasy at the dialogue, which promised no good augury for him.
CHAPTER LIX.
TWO JEALOUSIES.
Lovers are very tender toward everything which concerns the person they are in love with. Raoul no sooner found himself alone with Montalais than he kissed her hand with rapture. "There, there," said the young girl sadly, "you are throwing your kisses away; I will guarantee that they will not bring you back any interest."
"How so?—Why?—Will you explain to me, my dear Aure?"