“Your majesty has a mother, a sister, and brothers; your majesty is the head of the family, and ought, therefore, to ask a long life of God, instead of imploring Him for a prompt death.  Your majesty is an exile, a fugitive, but you have right on your side; you ought to aspire to combats, dangers, business, and not to rest in heavens.”

“Count,” said Charles II., with a smile of indescribable sadness, “have you ever heard of a king who reconquered his kingdom with one servant the age of Parry, and with three hundred crowns which that servant carried in his purse?”

“No, sire; but I have heard — and that more than once — that a dethroned king has recovered his kingdom with a firm will, perseverance, some friends, and a million skillfully employed.”

“But you cannot have understood me.  The million I asked of my brother Louis was refused me.”

“Sire,” said Athos, “will your majesty grant me a few minutes, and listen attentively to what remains for me to say to you?”

Charles II. looked earnestly at Athos.  “Willingly, monsieur,” said he.

“Then I will show your majesty the way,” resumed the count, directing his steps towards the house.  He then conducted the king to his study, and begged him to be seated.  “Sire,” said he, “your majesty just now told me that, in the present state of England, a million would suffice for the recovery of your kingdom.”

“To attempt it at least, monsieur; and to die as a king if I should not succeed.”

“Well, then, sire, let your majesty, according to the promise you have made me, have the goodness to listen to what I have to say.”  Charles made an affirmative sign with his head.  Athos walked straight up to the door, the bolts of which he drew, after looking to see if anybody was near, and then returned.  “Sire,” said he, “your majesty has kindly remembered that I lent assistance to the very noble and very unfortunate Charles I., when his executioners conducted him from St. James’s to Whitehall.”

“Yes, certainly I do remember it, and always shall remember it.”

“Sire, it is a dismal history to be heard by a son who no doubt has had it related to him many times; and yet I ought to repeat it to your majesty without omitting one detail.”

“Speak on, monsieur.”

“When the king your father ascended the scaffold, or rather when he passed from his chamber to the scaffold, on a level with his window, everything was prepared for his escape.  The executioner was got out of the way; a hole contrived under the floor of his apartment; I myself was beneath the funeral vault, which I heard all at once creak beneath his feet.”

“Parry has related to me all these terrible details, monsieur.”

Athos bowed and resumed.  “But here is something he had not related to you, sire, for what follows passed between God, your father, and myself; and never has the revelation of it been made even to my dearest friends.  ‘Go a little further off,’ said the august prisoner to the executioner; ’it is but for an instant, and I know that I belong to you; but remember not to strike till I give the signal.  I wish to offer up my prayers in freedom.”