𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 69
Conversational.
Though Mordaunt had been so completely taken by surprise and had mounted the stairs in such utter confusion, when once seated he recovered himself, as it were, and prepared to seize any possible opportunity of escape. His eye wandered to a long stout sword on his flank and he instinctively slipped it around within reach of his right hand.
D'Artagnan was waiting for a reply to his remark and said nothing. Aramis muttered to himself, "We shall hear nothing but the usual commonplace things."
Porthos sucked his mustache, muttering, "A good deal of ceremony to-night about crushing an adder." Athos shrunk into his corner, pale and motionless as a bas-relief.
The silence, however, could not last forever. So D'Artagnan began:
"Sir," he said, with desperate politeness, "it seems to me that you change your costume almost as rapidly as I have seen the Italian mummers do, whom the Cardinal Mazarin brought over from Bergamo and whom he doubtless took you to see during your travels in France."
Mordaunt did not reply.
"Just now," D'Artagnan continued, "you were disguised--I mean to say, attired--as a murderer, and now----"
"And now I look very much like a man who is going to be murdered."
"Oh! sir," said D'Artagnan, "how can you talk like that when you are in the company of gentlemen and have such an excellent sword at your side?"
"No sword is excellent enough to be of use against four swords and daggers."
"Well, that is scarcely the question. I had the honor of asking you why you altered your costume. The mask and beard became you very well, and as to the axe, I do not think it would be out of keeping even at this moment. Why, then, have you laid it aside?"
"Because, remembering the scene at Armentieres, I thought I should find four axes for one, as I was to meet four executioners."
"Sir," replied D'Artagnan, in the calmest manner possible, "you are very young; I shall therefore overlook your frivolous remarks. What took place at Armentieres has no connection whatever with the present occasion. We could scarcely have requested your mother to take a sword and fight us."
"Aha! It is a duel, then?" cried Mordaunt, as if disposed to reply at once to the provocation.
Porthos rose, always ready for this kind of adventure.
"Pardon me," said D'Artagnan. "Do not let us do things in a hurry. We will arrange the matter rather better. Confess, Monsieur Mordaunt, that you are anxious to kill some of us."
"All," replied Mordaunt.
"Then, my dear sir; I am convinced that these gentlemen return your kind wishes and will be delighted to kill you also. Of course they will do so as honorable gentlemen, and the best proof I can furnish is this----"
So saying, he threw his hat on the ground, pushed back his chair to the wall and bowed to Mordaunt with true French grace.
"At your service, sir," he continued. "My sword is shorter than yours, it's true, but, bah! I think the arm will make up for the sword."
"Halt!" cried Porthos coming forward. "I begin, and without any rhetoric."
"Allow me, Porthos," said Aramis.
Athos did not move. He might have been taken for a statue. Even his breathing seemed to be arrested.
"Gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "you shall have your turn. Monsieur Mordaunt dislikes you sufficiently not to refuse you afterward. You can see it in his eye. So pray keep your places, like Athos, whose calmness is entirely laudable. Besides, we will have no words about it. I have particular business to settle with this gentleman and I shall and will begin."
