by Alexandre Dumas

“ And De Winter glancing around him, Raoul quickly understood that the two friends wished to be alone and he therefore left the room unaffectedly.
"Come, now that we are alone," said Athos, "let us talk of yourself."
"Whilst we are alone let us speak of ourselves," replied De Winter. "He is here."
"Who?"
"Milady's son."
Athos, again struck by this name, which seemed to pursue him like an echo, hesitated for a moment, then slightly knitting his brows, he calmly said:
"I know it, Grimaud met him between Bethune and Arras and then came here to warn me of his presence." ”

“ Why did we not destroy the child with the mother?"
"What need you fear?" said Athos, recovering from the instinctive fear he had at first experienced, by the aid of reason; "are we not men accustomed to defend ourselves? Is this young man an assassin by profession - a murderer in cold blood? He has killed the executioner of Bethune in an access of passion, but now his fury is assuaged."
De Winter smiled sorrowfully and shook his head. ”

“ Raoul went out, and when Athos heard his young, joyous voice calling to Grimaud and Olivain, he sighed.
"It is very soon to leave me," he thought, "but he follows the common custom. Nature has made us thus; she makes the young look ever forward, not behind. He certainly likes the child, but will he love me less as his affection grows for her?" ”