“Monsieur,” said he, “although we may now be persuaded of the truth of what you say, there is yet a strange mystery in all this.  The general is too prudent a man to have thus abandoned his army on the eve of a battle without having at least given notice of it to one of us.  As for myself, I cannot believe but some strange event has been the cause of this disappearance.  Yesterday some foreign fishermen came to sell their fish here; they were lodged yonder among the Scots; that is to say, on the road the general took with this gentleman, to go to the abbey, and to return from it.  It was one of these fishermen that accompanied the general with a light.  And this morning, bark and fishermen have all disappeared, carried away by the night’s tide.”

“For my part,” said the lieutenant, “I see nothing in that that is not quite natural, for these people were not prisoners.”

“No; but I repeat it was one of them who lighted the general and this gentleman to the abbey, and Digby assures us that the general had strong suspicions concerning those people.  Now, who can say whether these people were not connected with this gentleman; and that, the blow being struck, the gentleman, who is evidently brave, did not remain to reassure us by his presence, and to prevent our researches being made in a right direction?”

This speech made an impression upon the other two officers.

“Sir,” said Athos, “permit me to tell you, that your reasoning, though specious in appearance, nevertheless wants consistency, as regards me.  I have remained, you say, to divert suspicion.  Well! on the contrary, suspicions arise in me as well as in you; and I say, it is impossible, gentlemen, that the general, on the eve of a battle, should leave his army without saying anything to at least one of his officers.  Yes, there is some strange event connected with this; instead of being idle and waiting, you must display all the activity and all the vigilance possible.  I am your prisoner, gentlemen, upon parole or otherwise.  My honor is concerned in ascertaining what has become of General Monk, and to such a point, that if you were to say to me, ‘Depart!’ I should reply:  ‘No, I will remain!’ And if you were to ask my opinion, I should add:  ’Yes, the general is the victim of some conspiracy, for, if he had intended to leave the camp he would have told me so.’  Seek, then, search the land, search the sea; the general has not gone of his own good will.”

The lieutenant made a sign to the two other officers.

“No, monsieur,” said he, “no; in your turn you go too far.  The general has nothing to suffer from these events, and, no doubt, has directed them.  What Monk is now doing he has often done before.  We are wrong in alarming ourselves; his absence will, doubtless, be of short duration; therefore, let us beware, lest by a pusillanimity which the general would consider a crime, of making his absence public, and by that means demoralize the army.  The general gives a striking proof of his confidence in us; let us show ourselves worthy of it.  Gentlemen, let the most profound silence cover all this with an impenetrable veil; we will detain this gentleman, not from mistrust of him with regard to the crime, but to assure more effectively the secret of the general’s absence by keeping among ourselves; therefore, until fresh orders, the gentleman will remain at headquarters.”