It would be vain for me to declare how the thing came about, for though I know I should not be believed, it would be said that I had received my part of the cake, and was eating it." Monk knitted his brow.--"Glory, honor, probity!" said he, "you are but empty words." "Mist!" replied D'Artagnan; "nothing but mist, through which nobody can see clearly." "Well, then, go to France, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Monk; "go, and to render England more attractive and agreeable to you, accept a remembrance of me." "What now ?" thought D'Artagnan.
"I have on the banks of the Clyde," continued Monk, "a little house in a grove, cottage as it is called here.

To this house are attached a hundred acres of land.

Accept it as a souvenir." "Oh, my lord!--" "Faith! you will be there in your own home, and that will be the place of refuge you spoke of just now." "For me to be obliged to your lordship to such an extent! Really, your grace, I am ashamed." "Not at all, not at all, monsieur," replied Monk, with an arch smile; "it is I who shall be obliged to you.

And," pressing the hand of the musketeer, "I shall go and draw up the deed of gift,"-- and he left the room.
D'Artagnan looked at him as he went out with something of a pensive and even an agitated air.
"After all," said he, "he is a brave man.

It is only a sad reflection that it is from fear of me, and not affection that he acts thus.