The Three Musketeers: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) by Alexandre Dumas

Author:Alexandre Dumas [Dumas, Alexandre]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781101201527
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2006-08-03T04:00:00+00:00

XXXI

ENGLISHMEN AND FRENCHMEN

When the time came, they went with their lackeys behind the Luxembourg, to an enclosure abandoned to goats. Athos gave the goatherd a coin to keep out of the way. The lackeys were instructed to act as sentinels.

Soon a silent troop approached the same enclosure, came in, and joined the musketeers. Then, following the custom from across the Channel, introductions took place.

The Englishmen were all men of the highest quality. The bizarre names of their adversaries were thus a cause not only of surprise for them, but still more of concern.

“But, for all that,” said Lord de Winter, when the three friends had been named, “we do not know who you are, and we shall not fight with such names. Why, these are the names of shepherds!”

“And thus false names, as you rightly suppose, Milord,” said Athos.

“Which gives us all the more desire to know your real names,” replied the Englishman.

“You gambled with us well enough without knowing them,” said Athos, “so much so that you won our two horses from us.”

“That’s true, but we were only risking our pistoles; this time we are risking our blood: one gambles with anybody, one fights only with one’s equals.”

“Fair enough,” said Athos. And he drew the Englishman he was to fight with aside and told him his name in a low voice.

Porthos and Aramis did the same.

“Does that suffice you,” Athos asked his adversary, “and do you find me enough of a nobleman to do me the favor of crossing swords with me?”

“Yes, Monsieur,” the Englishman said, bowing.

“Well, and now would you like me to tell you something?” Athos went on coldly.

“What?” asked the Englishman.

“You would have done better not to insist that I make myself known to you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I am thought dead, and I have reasons for wishing that no one know I am alive. I shall therefore be obliged to kill you, so that my secret will not be spread to the winds.”

The Englishman stared at Athos, thinking he was joking; but Athos was not joking in the least.

“Gentlemen,” he said, addressing both his companions and their adversaries, “are we ready?”

“Yes,” the Englishmen and the Frenchmen replied with one voice.

“On guard, then,” said Athos.

And at once eight swords flashed in the rays of the setting sun, and the combat began with a fury quite natural among men who were enemies twice over.

Athos fenced with as much calm and method as if he was in a fencing school.

Porthos, no doubt cured of his overconfidence by his adventure in Chantilly, played a game filled with subtlety and prudence.

Aramis, who had the third canto of his poem to finish, worked quickly, like a man in a great hurry.

Athos was the first to kill his adversary: he gave him only one stroke, but, as he had warned him, the stroke was fatal, it went through his heart.

Porthos was the second to bring his man down: he had pierced his thigh. Then, as the Englishman had yielded him his sword without offering any further resistance, Porthos took him in his arms and brought him to his carriage.

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