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 , there was this morning in his personal appearance something and .  
He was occupied with the preparations for Raoul’s departure and was seeking to gain time. In the first place he himself furbished a sword, which he drew from its perfumed leather sheath; he examined it to see if its hilt was well guarded and if the blade was firmly attached to the hilt. Then he placed at the bottom of the valise belonging to the young man a small bag of louis, called Olivain, the who had followed him from Blois, and made him pack the valise under his own eyes, to see that everything should be put in which might be useful to a young man entering on his first campaign.
 
At length, after occupying about an hour in these preparations, he opened the door of the room in which the vicomte slept, and entered.
 
The sun, already high, into the room through the window, the curtains of which Raoul had neglected to close on the previous evening. He was still sleeping, his head on his arm.
 
Athos approached and hung over the youth in an attitude full of tender ; he looked long on this young man, whose smiling mouth and half closed eyes soft dreams and lightest , as if his angel watched over him with and affection. By degrees Athos gave himself up to the charms of his reverie in the of youth, so pure, so fresh. His own youth seemed to reappear, bringing with it all those savoury remembrances, which are like perfumes more than thoughts. Between the past and the present was an abyss. But imagination has the wings of an angel of light and travels safely through or over the seas where we have been almost shipwrecked, the darkness in which our illusions are lost, the whence our happiness has been and swallowed up. He remembered that all the first part of his life had been by a woman and he thought with alarm of the influence love might assume over so fine, and at the same time so vigorous an organization as that of Raoul.
 
In recalling all he had been through, he foresaw all that Raoul might suffer; and the expression of the deep and tender which in his heart was pictured in the moist eye with which he gazed on the young man.
 
At this moment Raoul awoke, without a cloud on his face without weariness or lassitude; his eyes were on those of Athos and perhaps he comprehended all that passed in the heart of the man who was awaiting his as a lover awaits the awakening of his mistress, for his glance, in return, had all the tenderness of love.
 
“You are there, sir?” he said, respectfully.
 
“Yes, Raoul,” replied the count.
 
“And you did not me?”
 
“I wished to leave you still to enjoy some moments of sleep, my child; you must be from yesterday.”
 
“Oh, sir, how good you are!”
 
Athos smiled.
 
“How do you feel this morning?” he inquired.
 
“Perfectly well; quite rested, sir.”
 
“You are still growing,” Athos continued, with that charming and interest felt by a grown man for a youth.
 
“Oh, sir, I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Raoul, ashamed of so much attention; “in an instant I shall be dressed.”
 
Athos then called Olivain.
 
“Everything,” said Olivain to Athos, “has been done according to your directions; the horses are waiting.”
 
“And I was asleep,” cried Raoul, “whilst you, sir, you had the kindness to attend to all these details. Truly, sir, you overwhelm me with benefits!”
 
“Therefore you love me a little, I hope,” replied Athos, in a tone of emotion.
 
“Oh, sir! God knows how much I love, you.”
 
“See that you forget nothing,” said Athos, appearing to look about him, that he might hide his emotion.
 
“No, indeed, sir,” answered Raoul.
 
The servant then approached Athos and said, hesitatingly:
 
“Monsieur le vicomte has no sword.”
 
“‘Tis well,” said Athos, “I will take care of that.”
 
They went downstairs, Raoul looking every now and then at the count to see if the moment of farewell was at hand, but Athos was silent. When they reached the steps Raoul saw three horses.
 
“Oh, sir! then you are going with me?”
 
“I will accompany you a portion of the way,” said Athos.
 
Joy shone in Raoul’s eyes and he leaped lightly to his saddle.
 
Athos mounted more slowly, after speaking in a low voice to the lackey, who, instead of following them immediately, returned to their rooms. Raoul, delighted at the count’s companionship, perceived, or to perceive nothing of this byplay.
 
They set out, passing over the Pont Neuf; they pursued their way along the then called L’Abreuvoir Pepin, and went along by the walls of the Grand Chatelet. They proceeded to the Saint Denis.
 
After passing through the Porte Saint Denis, Athos looked at Raoul’s way of riding and observed:
 
“Take care, Raoul! I have already often told you of this; you must not forget it, for it is a great defect in a rider. See! your horse is tired already, he froths at the mouth, whilst mine looks as if he had only just left the stable. You hold the bit too tight and so make his mouth hard, so that you will not be able to make him quickly. The safety of a cavalier often depends on the prompt of his horse. In a week, remember, you will no longer be performing your manoeuvres for practice, but on a field of battle.”
 
Then suddenly, in order not to give too uncomfortable an importance to this observation:
 
“See, Raoul!” he resumed; “what a fine plain for partridge shooting.”
 
The young man stored in his mind the admonition whilst he admired the delicate tenderness with which it was .
 
“I have remarked also another thing,” said Athos, “which is, that in firing off your pistol you hold your arm too far outstretched. This tension the accuracy of the aim. So in twelve times you thrice missed the mark.”
 
“Which you, sir, struck twelve times,” answered Raoul, smiling.
 
“Because I my arm and rested my hand on my elbow--so; do you understand what I mean?”
 
“Yes, sir. I have fired since in that manner and have been quite successful.”
 
“What a cold wind!” resumed Athos; “a wintry blast. , if you fire--and you will do so, for you are recommended to a young general who is very fond of powder--remember that in single combat, which often takes place in the , never to fire the first shot. He who fires the first shot rarely hits his man, for he fires with the of being , before an armed ; then, whilst he fires, make your horse rear; that m............