The carriage pulled into a country estate, hidden among vast woodlands, all silver in the moonlight.

As soon as the carriage stopped, hooded figures surrounded the carriage, holding small lanterns in their hands.

Aramis opened the door and bounded it. Then he turned and helped Celeste out. Both of them began whispering hurried orders to the Jesuits that where gathered.

Before the man in the iron mask realized what was happening, his head was set on an anvil and a hammer rose above his head. "No! Please!" he cried.

"What's wrong?" asked Aramis. "We only mean to free you from the mask!"

The man was shaking and suddenly, Athos understood.

"Prison was horrible but it was his home. He's been torn from it by strangers. He's frighten and exhausted. And the mask is his only fimilair thing left. Let him rest in it tonight and we'll remove it tomorrow."

Aramis and Celeste exchanged glances. Their plan was working. Along with replacing the King, Aramis and Celeste had devised a sly plan to relieve Athos of his grief of loosing Raoul. It appeared to be working.

"Excellent, Athos," said Celeste. "You have a keen sense of this man."

Athos glanced at her. "His plight it obvious, isn't it?" He was angry with Aramis's insensitivity as he led the man in the mask toward the house.

Aramis turned to Porthos and opened his mouth, but stopped when he saw he was looking downcast.

"And why are you so glum?" he demanded.

Celeste turned and saw Porthos.

"I expected action. There was no killing, no fighting. I was useless." Porthos turned and shuffled off toward the house.

Aramis looked at Celeste for explanation.

She shrugged.

Aramis sighed and shook his head.

Celeste came over to him and slid her arms around him. She pressed a kiss to the middle of his chest. "He'll live, Aramis."

Aramis wrapped his arms around her. "I know."

"You did it."

"It took your planning as well." Aramis kissed her.

"Was that my reward?" asked Celeste.

Aramis smiled. "I shall give you a far better one tonight."

Athos saw the man in the iron mask to a bedroom.

The eyes behind the slits in mask where darting from side to side. He was frightened, just as Athos had said.

"Are you hungry?"

"Just…water."

Athos poured a cupful from the water pitcher on the bedside table. But when he tried to help the man drink, the water spilled as the cup bumped the mouth hole.

The man took the cup. "This way." He skillfully manipulated the cup until he got a long drink. Then he fell back onto the pillow. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

Athos set the cup down and sat in a chair next to the bed

"This place….I once lived in a country house. I had guardians, an old man and woman. And tutors. But no friends. Then when I was sixteen, they came and took me to the prison."

"Who came?" asked Athos.

"A man in black. I never saw his face. He took me to the cell. A blacksmith came and they put me into the mask."

"And you never knew why?" asked Athos.

"I thought….there is something about my face that men don't want to see. Something that makes them cruel. But then I realized they were cruel even when I wearing the mask. I knew there must be some other reason, but I could not think what it was."

"What is your name?" asked Athos.

"The old man and woman called me Phillippe."

Phillippe," said Athos. "Rest now." He stood and moved to the door.

"Thank you…for your kindness."

Athos nodded. He paused for a moment, then left the room and closed the door behind himself.

Celeste was waiting in the hallway. "How is he?"

"He's resting," said Athos. He looked around. The house was quiet. "Where is everyone?"

"In bed. Where you should be as well. Tomorrow will be a long day," said Celeste. She stood on tip toe and kissed his cheek. "Sleep well." She moved down the hall and disappeared into a room.

Aramis turned from the window as Celeste shut the door behind her and disappeared behind the dressing screen. "How is he?"

"Who?"

"Both."

"The prisoner is fine. And Athos is…" Celeste stepped from around the screen, bundled up in a robe. "Athos is Athos." She moved over to him and looked out the window. "I can't help but wonder about D'Artagnan." She sighed heavily. "I can't even bear to think about what I'm doing to him."

Aramis wrapped her in his arms. "Then don't think, my dear."