At these words, the murmur without became an explosion; nothing was to
be heard but oaths and blasphemies. The MORBLEUS, the SANG DIEUS, the
MORTS TOUTS LES DIABLES, crossed one another in the air. D'Artagnan
looked for some tapestry behind which he might hide himself, and felt an
immense inclination to crawl under the table.

"Well, my Captain," said Porthos, quite beside himself, "the truth is
that we were six against six. But we were not captured by fair means;
and before we had time to draw our swords, two of our party were dead,
and Athos, grievously wounded, was very little better. For you know
Athos. Well, Captain, he endeavored twice to get up, and fell again
twice. And we did not surrender--no! They dragged us away by force. On
the way we escaped. As for Athos, they believed him to be dead, and left
him very quiet on the field of battle, not thinking it worth the trouble
to carry him away. That's the whole story. What the devil, Captain, one
cannot win all one's battles! The great Pompey lost that of Pharsalia;
and Francis the First, who was, as I have heard say, as good as other
folks, nevertheless lost the Battle of Pavia."

"And I have the honor of assuring you that I killed one of them with his
own sword," said Aramis; "for mine was broken at the first parry. Killed
him, or poniarded him, sir, as is most agreeable to you."

"I did not know that," replied M. de Treville, in a somewhat softened
tone. "The cardinal exaggerated, as I perceive."

"But pray, sir," continued Aramis, who, seeing his captain become
appeased, ventured to risk a prayer, "do not say that Athos is wounded.
He would be in despair if that should come to the ears of the king; and
as the wound is very serious, seeing that after crossing the shoulder it
penetrates into the chest, it is to be feared--"

At this instant the tapestry was raised and a noble and handsome head,
but frightfully pale, appeared under the fringe.

"Athos!" cried the two Musketeers.

"Athos!" repeated M. de Treville himself.

"You have sent for me, sir," said Athos to M. de Treville, in a feeble
yet perfectly calm voice, "you have sent for me, as my comrades inform
me, and I have hastened to receive your orders. I am here; what do you
want with me?"

And at these words, the Musketeer, in irreproachable costume, belted as
usual, with a tolerably firm step, entered the cabinet. M. de Treville,
moved to the bottom of his heart by this proof of courage, sprang