“What ails our friend?” said Aramis, “he resembles one of Dante’s damned, whose neck Apollyon has dislocated and who are ever looking at their heels. What the devil makes him glower thus behind him?”

When De Winter perceived them, in his turn he advanced toward them with surprising rapidity.

“What is the matter, my lord?” said Athos, “and what puts you out of breath thus?”

“Nothing,” replied De Winter; “nothing; and yet in passing the heights it seemed to me — — ” and he again turned round.

Athos glanced at Aramis.

“But let us go,” continued De Winter; “let us be off; the boat must be waiting for us and there is our sloop at anchor —