Page:The Vicomte de Bragelonne 2.djvu/37

Rh He even ventured a vigorous "Humph!" which made the cavalier turn round. Then there was a change of scene; for no sooner had he caught sight of Raoul's face than the old man sprung up and set off in the direction of the house, amid interrupted growlings, which he meant to be paroxysms of wild delight.

When arrived at the stables, Raoul gave his horse to a little lackey, and sprung up the perron with an ardor that would have delighted the heart of his father.

He crossed the antechamber, the dining-room, and the salon, without meeting with any one; at length, on reaching the door of M. de la Fere's apartment, he rapped impatiently, and entered almost without waiting for the word "Enter!" which was thrown to him by a voice at once sweet and serious.

The comte was seated at a table covered with papers and books; he was still the noble, handsome gentleman of former days, but time had given to this nobleness and beauty a more solemn and distinct character. A brow white and void of wrinkles, beneath his long hair, now more white than black; an eye piercing and mild, under the lids of a young man; his mustache, fine but slightly grizzled, waved over lips of a pure and delicate model, as if they had never been curled by mortal passions; a shape straight and supple; an irreproachable but thin hand—this was what remained of the illustrious gentleman whom so many illustrious mouths had praised under the name of Athos. He was engaged in correcting the pages of a manuscript book, entirely filled by his own hand.

Raoul seized his father by the shoulders, by the neck, as he could, and embraced him so tenderly and so rapidly that the comte had neither strength nor time to disengage himself, or to overcome his paternal emotions.

"What, you here, Raoul—you? Is it possible?" said he.

"Oh, monsieur, monsieur, what joy to see you once again!"

"But you don't answer me, vicomte. Have you leave of absence, or has some misfortune happened at Paris?"

"Thank God, monsieur," replied Raoul, calming himself by degrees, "nothing has happened but what is fortunate. The king is going to be married, as I had the honor of informing you in my last letter, and, on his way to Spain, will pass through Blois."

"To pay a visit to Monsieur?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Comte. So, fearing to find him un-