“I am to be a soldier then?” said the young man. “Oh, monsieur, I thank you with all my heart.”
“Adieu, count,” said the Abbé d’Herblay; “I return to my convent.”
“Adieu, abbé,” said the coadjutor, “I am to preach to-morrow and have twenty texts to examine this evening.”
“Adieu, gentlemen,” said the count; “I am going to sleep twenty-four hours; I am just falling down with fatigue.”
The three men saluted one another, whilst exchanging a last look.
Scarron followed their movements with a glance from the corner of his eye.
“Not one of them will do as he says,” he murmured, with his little monkey smile; “but they may do as they please, the brave gentlemen! Who knows if they will not manage to restore to me my pension? They can move their arms, they can, and that is much. Alas, I have only my tongue, but I will try to show that it is good for something. Ho, there, Champenois! here, it is eleven o’clock. Come and roll me to bed. Really, that Demoiselle d’Aubigne is very charming!”
So the invalid disappeared soon afterward and went into his sleeping-room; and one by one the lights in the salon of the Rue des Tournelles were extinguished.
Chapter XXII.
Saint Denis.
The day had begun to break when Athos arose and dressed himself. It was plain, by a paleness still greater than usual, and by those traces which loss of sleep leaves on the face, that he must have passed almost the whole of the night without sleeping. Contrary to the custom of a man so firm and decided, there was this morning in his personal appearance something tardy and irresolute.