“Why not, sir?” asked Charles. “Such are for royalty, and we are simple commoners.” “Speak not of crowns. I shall not find amongst them such great hearts as yours. No, no, you do yourselves injustice; but I am here to do you justice. On your knees, count.” Athos knelt down and the king passed the ribbon down from left to right as usual, raised his sword, and instead of pronouncing the customary formula, “I make you a knight. Be brave, faithful and loyal,” he said, “You are brave, faithful and loyal. I knight you, monsieur le comte.” Then turning to Aramis, he said: “It is now your turn, monsieur le chevalier.” The same ceremony recommenced, with the same words, whilst Winter unlaced his leather cuirass, that he might disguise himself like the king. Charles, having proceeded with Aramis as with Athos, embraced them both. “Sire,” said Winter, who in this trying emergency felt all his strength and energy fire up, “we are ready.” The king looked at the three gentlemen. “Then we must fly!” said he. “Flying through an army, sire,” said Athos, “in all countries in the world is called _charging_.” “Then I shall die, sword in hand,” said Charles. “Monsieur le comte, monsieur le chevalier, if ever I am king——” “Sire, you have already done us more honor than simple gentlemen could ever aspire to, therefore gratitude is on our side. But we must not lose time. We have already wasted too much.” The king again shook hands with all three, exchanged hats with Winter and went out. Winter’s regiment was ranged on some high ground above the camp. The king, followed by the three friends, turned his steps that way. The Scotch camp seemed as if at last awakened; the soldiers had come out of their tents and taken up their station in battle array. “Do you see that?” said the king. “Perhaps they are penitent and preparing to march.” “If they are penitent,” said Athos, “let them follow us.” “Well!” said the king, “what shall we do?” “Let us examine the enemy’s army.” At the same instant the eyes of the little group were fixed on the same line which at daybreak they had mistaken for fog and which the morning sun now plainly showed was an army in order of battle. The air was soft and clear, as it generally is at that early hour of the morning. The regiments, the standards, and even the colors of the horses and uniforms were now clearly distinct. On the summit of a rising ground, a little in advance of the enemy, appeared a short and heavy looking man; this man was surrounded by officers. He turned a spyglass toward the little group amongst which the king stood. “Does this man know your majesty personally?” inquired Aramis. Charles smiled. “That man is Cromwell,” said he. “Then draw down your hat, sire, that he may not discover the substitution.” “Ah!” said Athos, “how much time we have lost.” “Now,” said the king, “give the word and let us start.” “Will you not give it, sire?” asked Athos. “No; I make you my lieutenant-general,” said the king.