a
small poniard, with a golden haft and a sharp thin blade, and then threw
herself with a bound upon d'Artagnan.

Although the young man was brave, as we know, he was terrified at that
wild countenance, those terribly dilated pupils, those pale cheeks, and
those bleeding lips. He recoiled to the other side of the room as he
would have done from a serpent which was crawling toward him, and
his sword coming in contact with his nervous hand, he drew it almost
unconsciously from the scabbard. But without taking any heed of the
sword, Milady endeavored to get near enough to him to stab him, and did
not stop till she felt the sharp point at her throat.

She then tried to seize the sword with her hands; but d'Artagnan kept
it free from her grasp, and presenting the point, sometimes at her eyes,
sometimes at her breast, compelled her to glide behind the bedstead,
while he aimed at making his retreat by the door which led to Kitty's
apartment.

Milady during this time continued to strike at him with horrible fury,
screaming in a formidable way.

As all this, however, bore some resemblance to a duel, d'Artagnan began
to recover himself little by little.

"Well, beautiful lady, very well," said he; "but, PARDIEU, if you don't
calm yourself, I will design a second FLEUR-DE-LIS upon one of those
pretty cheeks!"

"Scoundrel, infamous scoundrel!" howled Milady.

But d'Artagnan, still keeping on the defensive, drew near to Kitty's
door. At the noise they made, she in overturning the furniture in her
efforts to get at him, he in screening himself behind the furniture
to keep out of her reach, Kitty opened the door. D'Artagnan, who had
unceasingly maneuvered to gain this point, was not at more than three
paces from it. With one spring he flew from the chamber of Milady into
that of the maid, and quick as lightning, he slammed to the door, and
placed all his weight against it, while Kitty pushed the bolts.

Then Milady attempted to tear down the doorcase, with a strength
apparently above that of a woman; but finding she could not accomplish
this, she in her fury stabbed at the door with her poniard, the point of
which repeatedly glittered through the wood. Every blow was accompanied
with terrible imprecations.

"Quick, Kitty, quick!" said d'Artagnan, in a low voice, as soon as the
bolts were fast, "let me get out of the hotel; for if we leave her time
to turn round, she will have me killed by the servants."

"But you can't go