At this moment of the conversation between the two young men, Raoul entered, looking full of anxiety. As soon as the chevalier, who had a secret dislike for him, as for every other noble character, perceived him enter, he rose from his seat. “What do you advise me to do, then?” inquired De Guiche of the chevalier. “I advise you to go to sleep in perfect tranquillity, my dear count.” “And my advice, De Guiche,” said Raoul, “is the very opposite.” “What is that?” “To mount your horse and set off at once for one of your estates; on your arrival, follow the chevalier’s advice, if you like; and, what is more, you can sleep there as long and as tranquilly as you please.” “What! set off!” exclaimed the chevalier, feigning surprise; “why should De Guiche set off?” “Because, and you cannot be ignorant of it--you particularly so-- because every one is talking about the scene which has passed between Monsieur and De Guiche.” De Guiche turned pale. “Not at all,” replied the chevalier, “not at all; and you have been wrongly informed, M. de Bragelonne.” “I have been perfectly well informed, on the contrary, monsieur,” replied Raoul, “and the advice I give De Guiche is that of a friend.” During this discussion, De Guiche, somewhat shaken, looked alternately first at one and then at the other of his advisers. He inwardly felt that a game, important in all its consequences for the rest of his life, was being played at that moment. “Is it not fact,” said the chevalier, putting the question to the count himself, “is it not fact, De Guiche, that the scene was not so tempestuous as the Vicomte de Bragelonne seems to think, and who, moreover, was not himself there?” “Whether tempestuous or not,” persisted Raoul, “it is not precisely of the scene itself that I am speaking, but of the consequences that may ensue. I know that Monsieur has threatened, I know that Madame has been in tears.” “Madame in tears!” exclaimed De Guiche, imprudently clasping his hands. “Ah!” said the chevalier, laughing, “this is indeed a circumstance I was not acquainted with. You are decidedly better informed than I am, Monsieur de Bragelonne.” “And it is because I am better informed than yourself, chevalier, that I insist upon De Guiche leaving.” “No, no; I regret to differ from you, vicomte; but his departure is unnecessary. Why, indeed, should he leave? tell us why.” “The king!” “The king!” exclaimed De Guiche. “Yes; I tell you the king has taken up the affair.” “Bah!” said the chevalier, “the king likes De Guiche, and particularly his father; reflect, that, if the count were to leave, it would be an admission that he had done something which merited rebuke.” “Why so?” “No doubt of it; when one runs away, it is either from guilt or fear.”