swered.

"'Well, no,' he replied.

"'How no?'

"'I say that the dress should be so well made, that it will in no way
encumber you, even in drawing your sword.'

"'Ah, ah!'

"'Throw yourself on guard,' pursued he.

"I did it with such wondrous firmness, that two panes of glass burst out
of the window.

"''Tis nothing, nothing,' said he. 'Keep your position.'

"I raised my left arm in the air, the forearm gracefully bent, the
ruffle drooping, and my wrist curved, while my right arm, half extended,
securely covered my wrist with the elbow, and my breast with the wrist."

"Yes," said D'Artagnan, "'tis the true guard--the academic guard."

"You have said the very word, dear friend. In the meanwhile, Voliere--"

"Moliere."

"Hold! I should certainly, after all, prefer to call him--what did you
say his other name was?"

"Poquelin."

"I prefer to call him Poquelin."

"And how will you remember this name better than the other?"

"You understand, he calls himself Poquelin, does he not?"

"Yes."

"If I were to call to mind Madame Coquenard."

"Good."

"And change _Coc_ into _Poc_, _nard_ into _lin_; and instead of
Coquenard I shall have Poquelin."

"'Tis wonderful," cried D'Artagnan, astounded. "Go on, my friend, I am
listening to you with admiration."

"This Coquelin sketched my arm on the glass."

"I beg your pardon--Poquelin."

"What did I say, then?"

"You said Coquelin."

"Ah! true. This Poquelin, then, sketched my arm on the glass; but he
took his time over it; he kept looking at me a good deal. The fact is,
that I must have been looking particularly handsome."

"'Does it weary you?' he asked.

"'A little,' I replied, bending a little in my hands, 'but I could hold
out for an hour or so longer.'

"'No, no, I will not allow it; the willing fellows will make it a duty
to support your arms, as of old, men supported those of the prophet.'

"'Very good,' I answered.

"'That will not be humiliating to you?'

"'My friend,' said I, 'there is, I think, a great difference between
being supported and being measured.'"

"The distinction is full of the soundest sense," interrupted D'Artagnan.

"Then," continued Porthos, "he made a sign: two lads approached; one
supported my left arm, while the other, with infinite address, supported
my right."

"'Another, my man,' cried he. A third approached. 'Support monsieur by
the waist,' said he. The _garcon_ complied."

"So that you were at rest?" a