Every one has already perceived that these two men were our proscribed heroes, Porthos and Aramis, who had taken refuge in Belle-Isle, since the ruin of their hopes, since the discomfiture of the colossal schemes of M.d'Herblay.
"If is of no use your saying anything to the contrary, my dear Aramis," repeated Porthos, inhaling vigorously the salt breeze with which he charged his massive chest, "It is of no use, Aramis.

The disappearance of all the fishing-boats that went out two days ago is not an ordinary circumstance.

There has been no storm at sea; the weather has been constantly calm, not even the lightest gale; and even if we had had a tempest, all our boats would not have foundered.

I repeat, it is strange.

This complete disappearance astonishes me, I tell you." "True," murmured Aramis.