The Man in the Iron Mask is a self-contained novel, the sixth and last of a series of novels -- The Three Musketeers (covering 1625-1628), Twenty Years After (covering 1648-49), The Vicomte de Bragelonne (covering 1660), Ten Years Later (covering 1660-1661), Louise de la Valliere (covering 1661), The Man in the Iron Mask (covering 1661-1673). D'Artagnan, the fourth and most important musketeer is based on an historical figure, who was eventually promoted to commander of the musketeers. You can read about him at Wikipedia. According to Wikipedia: 'Alexandre Dumas, père (French for 'father', akin to 'Senior' in English), born Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie (1802 - 1870) was a French writer, best known for his numerous historical novels of high adventure which have made him one of the most widely read French authors in the world. Many of his novels, including The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, Twenty Years After, and The Vicomte de Bragelonne were serialized. He also wrote plays and magazine articles and was a prolific correspondent.'
Aramis was the first to descend from the carriage; he held the door open for the young man. He saw him place his foot on the mossy ground with a trembling of the whole body, and walk round the carriage with an unsteady and almost tottering step. It seemed as if the poor prisoner was unaccustomed to walk on God's earth. It was the 15th of August, about eleven o'clock at night; thick clouds, portending a tempest, overspread the heavens, and shrouded every light and prospect underneath their heavy folds. The extremities of the avenues were imperceptibly detached from the copse, by a lighter shadow of opaque gray, which, upon closer examination, became visible in the midst of the obscurity. But the fragrance which ascended from the grass, fresher and more penetrating than that which exhaled from the trees around him; the warm and balmy air which enveloped him for the first time for many years past; the ineffable enjoyment of liberty in an open country, spoke to the prince in so seductive a language, that notwithstanding the preternatural caution, we would almost say dissimulation of his character, of which we have tried to give an idea, he could not restrain his emotion, and breathed a sigh of ecstasy. Then, by degrees, he raised his aching head and inhaled the softly scented air, as it was wafted in gentle gusts to his uplifted face. Crossing his arms on his chest, as if to control this new sensation of delight, he drank in delicious draughts of that mysterious air which interpenetrates at night the loftiest forests. The sky he was contemplating, the murmuring waters, the universal freshness - was not all this reality? Was not Aramis a madman to suppose that he had aught else to dream of in this wor
