The Three Musketeers

Grimaud silently swallowed the glass of Bordeaux wine; but his eyes, raised toward heaven during this delicious occupation, spoke a language which, though mute, was not the less expressive.

Athos, who was an optimist when things were concerned, and a pessimist when men were in question.

Great criminals bear about them a kind of predestination which makes them surmount all obstacles, which makes them escape all dangers, up to the moment which a wearied Providence has marked as the rock of their impious fortunes.

Athos rose, walked toward his friend with a slow and solemn step, embraced him tenderly, and as he burst into violent sobs, he said to him with his noble and persuasive voice, "Friend, be a man! Women weep for the dead; men avenge them!"

making a powerful effort to control himself, he sent back to his heart the words that were about to escape from his lips,

de la Fere—" All eyes were turned towards Athos, whose real name that was,

that ingenious air of confidence which every poet has in himself;

Athos smiled with one of his sweet and expressive smiles. "Friend," said he, "for Athos this is too much; for the Comte de la Fere it is too little. Keep the commission; it is yours. Alas! you have purchased it dearly enough."

"Capital! Adieu, Chevalier." "Adieu, Countess."