at him.

"Here is a prisoner for you," said Porthos coolly to Aramis.

"Well!" cried the latter, laughing, "did you not calumniate your legs?"

"It was not with my legs I captured him," said Porthos, "it was with my
arms!"

Chapter XLVI. The Son of Biscarrat.

The Bretons of the Isle were very proud of this victory; Aramis did not
encourage them in the feeling.

"What will happen," said he to Porthos, when everybody was gone home,
"will be that the anger of the king will be roused by the account of the
resistance; and that these brave people will be decimated or shot when
they are taken, which cannot fail to take place."

"From which it results, then," said Porthos, "that what we have done is
of not the slightest use."

"For the moment it may be," replied the bishop, "for we have a prisoner
from whom we shall learn what our enemies are preparing to do."

"Yes, let us interrogate the prisoner," said Porthos, "and the means of
making him speak are very simple. We are going to supper; we will invite
him to join us; as he drinks he will talk."

This was done. The officer was at first rather uneasy, but became
reassured on seeing what sort of men he had to deal with. He gave,
without having any fear of compromising himself, all the details
imaginable of the resignation and departure of D'Artagnan. He explained
how, after that departure, the new leader of the expedition had ordered
a surprise upon Belle-Isle. There his explanations stopped. Aramis
and Porthos exchanged a glance that evinced their despair. No more
dependence to be placed now on D'Artagnan's fertile imagination--no
further resource in the event of defeat. Aramis, continuing his
interrogations, asked the prisoner what the leaders of the expedition
contemplated doing with the leaders of Belle-Isle.

"The orders are," replied he, "to kill _during_ combat, or hang
_afterwards_."

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other again, and the color mounted to
their faces.

"I am too light for the gallows," replied Aramis; "people like me are
not hung."

"And I am too heavy," said Porthos; "people like me break the cord."

"I am sure," said the prisoner, gallantly, "that we could have
guaranteed you the exact kind of death you preferred."

"A thousand thanks!" said Aramis, seriously. Porthos bowed.

"One more cup of wine to your health," said he, drinking himself. From
one subject to another the chat with the officer was prolonged. He was
an intelli