their fists and the hilts of their swords, to keep room. He
even remarked that they had succeeded, by that esprit de corps which
doubles the strength of the soldier, in getting together in one group to
the amount of about fifty men; and that, with the exception of a dozen
stragglers whom he still saw rolling here and there, the nucleus was
complete, and within reach of his voice. But it was not the musketeers
and guards only that drew the attention of D'Artagnan. Around the
gibbets, and particularly at the entrances to the arcade of Saint Jean,
moved a noisy mass, a busy mass; daring faces, resolute demeanors were
to be seen here and there, mingled with silly faces and indifferent
demeanors; signals were exchanged, hands given and taken. D'Artagnan
remarked among the groups, and those groups the most animated, the face
of the cavalier whom he had seen enter by the door of communication from
his garden, and who had gone upstairs to harangue the drinkers. That man
was organizing troops and giving orders.
"Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "I was not deceived; I know that
man,--it is Menneville. What the devil is he doing here?"
A distant murmur, which became more distinct by degrees, stopped
this reflection, and drew his attention another way. This murmur was
occasioned by the arrival of the culprits; a strong picket of archers
preceded them, and appeared at the angle of the arcade. The entire crowd
now joined as if in one cry; all the cries united formed one immense
howl. D'Artagnan saw Raoul was becoming pale, and he slapped him roughly
on the shoulder. The fire-keepers turned round on hearing the great
cry, and asked what was going on. "The condemned are arrived," said
D'Artagnan. "That's well," replied they, again replenishing the fire.
D'Artagnan looked at them with much uneasiness; it was evident that
these men who were making such a fire for no apparent purpose had some
strange intentions. The condemned appeared upon the Place. They were
walking, the executioner before them, whilst fifty archers formed a
hedge on their right and their left. Both were dressed in black; they
appeared pale, but firm. They looked impatiently over the people's
heads, standing on tip-toe at every step. D'Artagnan remarked this.
"Mordioux!" cried he, "they are in a great hurry to get a sight of the
gibbet!" Raoul drew back, without, however, having the power to leave
the window. Terror even has its attractions.
"To the death! t
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