e this?"

"Excuse me," answered D'Artagnan, "but I am in a great hurry. I am
pursuing some one, and--"

"And I suppose that on such occasions you leave your eyes behind you?"
asked Porthos.

"No," replied D'Artagnan, rather nettled; "and thanks to my eyes, I
often see things that other people don't."

Possibly Porthos might have understood this allusion, but in any case
he did not attempt to control his anger, and said sharply:--

"Monsieur, we shall have to give you a lesson if you take to tumbling
against the musketeers like this!"

"A lesson, monsieur!" replied D'Artagnan; "that is rather a severe
expression."

"It is the expression of a man who is always accustomed to look his
enemies in the face."

"Oh, if that is all, there is no fear of _your_ turning your back on
anybody," and enchanted at his own wit, the young man walked away in
fits of laughter.

Porthos foamed with rage, and rushed after D'Artagnan.

"By-and-by, by-and-by," cried the latter; "when you have not got your
mantle on."

"At one o'clock then, behind the Luxembourg."

"All right; at one o'clock," replied D'Artagnan as he vanished around
the corner.

But he could see no one either in the street he had passed through, or
in the one his eager gaze was searching; however slowly the stranger
might have walked, he had gone his way, or perhaps into some house.
D'Artagnan inquired of everybody he met, but could find nothing at all
about him. This chase however did him good in one way; for in
proportion as the sweat started out on his forehead, his heart began
to cool.

He began to think over the many unlucky things which had happened. It
was scarcely eleven in the morning, and yet this morning had already
brought him into disgrace with M. Treville, who must think the way
D'Artagnan had left him was rather boorish.

Moreover, he had gotten himself into two fierce duels with two men,
each able to kill three D'Artagnans; in a word, with two
musketeers,--beings he set so high that he placed them above all other
men.

It was a sad lookout. To be sure, as the youth was certain to be
killed by Athos, he was not much disturbed about Porthos. As hope is
the last thing to die in a man's heart, however, he ended by hoping
that he might come out alive from both duels, even if dreadfully
injured; and on that supposition he scored himself in this way for his
conduct:--

"What a rattle-headed dunce I am! That brave and unfortunate Athos was
woun