433 THE MAN" IN" THE IROJS" MASK, CHAPTER LX. V THE LAST CANTO OF THE POEM. On the morrow, all the noblesse of the provinces, of the environs, and wherever messengers had carried the news, were seen to arrive. D'Artagnan had shut himself up, without being willing to speak to anybody. Two such heavy deaths falling upon the captain, so closely after the death of Porthos, for a long time oppressed that spirit which had hitherto been so indefatigable and invulnerable. Except Grimaud, who entered his chamber once, the mus- keteer saw neither servants nor guests. He supposed, from the noises in the house, and the continual coming and going, that preparations were being made for the funeral of the comte. He wrote to the king to ask for an extension of his leave of absence. Grimaud, as we have said, had en- tered D'Artagnan's apartment, had seated himself upon a joint-stool near the door, like a man who meditates pro- foundly; then, rising, he made a sign to D'Artagnan to fol- low him. The latter obeyed in silence. Grimaud descended to the comte's bed-chamber, showed the captain with his finger the place of the empty bed, and raised his eyes elo- quently toward heaven. "Yes," replied D'Artagnan, '^yes, good Grimaud — now with the son he loved so much!" Grimaud left the chamber, and led the way to the hall, where, according to the custom of the province, the body was laid out previously to its being buried forever. D'Ar- tagnan was struck at seeing two open coffins in the hall. In reply to the mute invitation of Grimaud he approached, and saw in one of them Athos, still handsome in death, and in the other, Kaoul, with his eyes closed, his cheeks pearly as those of the Pallas of Virgil, with a smile on his violet lips. He shuddered at seeing the father and son, those two departed souls, represented on earth by two silent, melan- choly bodies, incapable of touching each other, however close they might be. "Eaoul here!" murmured he. *'0h, Grimaud, why did you not tell me this?" Grimaud shook his head, and made no reply; but, taking D'Artagnan by the hand, he led him to the coffin, and showed him, under the thin winding-sheet, the black wounds by which life had escaped. The captain turned away his
eyes, and, judging it useless to question Grimaud, who
