“And why, monsieur? Because you have formed a correct opinion of me, or because I have acted according to your judgment? Is that, in truth, worthy of thanks? This gold which you are about to carry to Charles will serve me as a test for him, by seeing the use he will make of it. I shall have an opinion which now I have not.” “And yet does not your honor fear to compromise yourself by allowing such a sum to be carried away for the service of your enemy?” “My enemy, say you? Eh, monsieur, I have no enemies. I am in the service of the parliament, which orders me to fight General Lambert and Charles Stuart—its enemies, and not mine. I fight them. If the parliament, on the contrary, ordered me to unfurl my standards on the port of London, and to assemble my soldiers on the banks to receive Charles II.——” “You would obey?” cried Athos, joyfully. “Pardon me,” said Monk, smiling, “I was going—I, a gray-headed man—in truth, how could I forget myself? was going to speak like a foolish young man.” “Then you would not obey?” said Athos. “I do not say that either, monsieur. The welfare of my country before everything. God, who has given me the power, has, no doubt, willed that I should have that power for the good of all, and He has given me, at the same time, discernment. If the parliament were to order such a thing, I should reflect.” The brow of Athos became clouded. “Then I may positively say that your honor is not inclined to favor King Charles II.?” “You continue to question me, monsieur le comte; allow me to do so in turn, if you please.” “Do, monsieur; and may God inspire you with the idea of replying to me as frankly as I shall reply to you.” “When you shall have taken this money back to your prince, what advice will you give him?” Athos fixed upon Monk a proud and resolute look. “My lord,” said he, “with this million, which others would perhaps employ in negotiating, I would advise the king to raise two regiments, to enter Scotland, which you have just pacified: to give to the people the franchises which the revolution promised them, and in which it has not, in all cases, kept its word. I should advise him to command in person this little army, which would, believe me, increase, and to die, standard in hand, and sword in its sheath, saying, ‘Englishmen! I am the third king of my race you have killed; beware of the justice of God!’” Monk hung down his head, and mused for an instant. “If he succeeded,” said he, “which is very improbable, but not impossible—for everything is possible in this world—what would you advise him to do?” “To think that by the will of God he lost his crown but by the good will of men he recovered it.” An ironical smile passed over the lips of Monk. “Unfortunately, monsieur,” said he, “kings do not know how to follow good advice.” “Ah, my lord, Charles II. is not a king,” replied Athos, smiling in his turn, but with a very different expression from Monk.