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The Wife of Athos

           Thisexcessofbilioushumorcouldnotbeattributedtoplay;forunlikePorthos,whoaccompaniedthevariationsofchancewithsongsoroaths,Athoswhenhewonremainedasunmovedaswhenhelost.Hehadbeenknown,inthecircleoftheMusketeers,towininonenightthreethousandpistoles;tolosethemeventothegold-embroideredbeltforgaladays,winallthisagainwiththeadditionofahundredlouis,withouthisbeautifuleyebrowbeingheightenedorloweredhalfaline,withouthishandslosingtheirpearlyhue,withouthisconversation,whichwascheerfulthatevening,ceasingtobecalmandagreeable.

           Neitherwasit,aswithourneighbors,theEnglish,anatmosphericinfluencewhichdarkenedhiscountenance;forthesadnessgenerallybecamemoreintensetowardthefineseasonoftheyear.JuneandJulyweretheterriblemonthswithAthos.

           Forthepresenthehadnoanxiety.Heshruggedhisshoulderswhenpeoplespokeofthefuture.Hissecret,then,wasinthepast,ashadoftenbeenvaguelysaidtod’Artagnan.

           Thismysteriousshade,spreadoverhiswholeperson,renderedstillmoreinterestingthemanwhoseeyesormouth,eveninthemostcompleteintoxication,hadneverrevealedanything,howeverskillfullyquestionshadbeenputtohim.

           "Well,"thoughtd’Artagnan,"poorAthosisperhapsatthismomentdead,anddeadbymyfaultforitwasIwhodraggedhimintothisaffair,ofwhichhedidnotknowtheorigin,ofwhichheisignorantoftheresult,andfromwhichhecanderivenoadvantage."

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