“Oh! you are right!” cried the comte. “No, Raoul shall not go alone; no, he shall not be left alone in a strange land without some friendly hand to support him, some friendly heart to recall to him all he loved!”
“I?” said Grimaud.
“You, yes, you!” cried Raoul, touched to the inmost heart.
“Alas!” said Athos, “you are very old, my good Grimaud.”
“So much the better,” replied the latter, with an inexpressible depth of feeling and intelligence.
“But the embarkation is begun,” said Raoul, “and you are not prepared.”
“Yes,” said Grimaud, showing the keys of his trunks, mixed with those of his young master.
“But,” again objected Raoul, “you cannot leave monsieur le comte thus alone; monsieur le comte, whom you have never quitted?”
Grimaud turned his diamond eyes upon Athos and Raoul, as if to measure the strength of both. The comte uttered not a word.
“Monsieur le comte prefers my going,” said Grimaud.