As Athos had assumed, the bastion was only occupied by a dozen dead
men, French and Rochellois.
"Gentlemen," said Athos, to whom the command of the expedition
naturally fell, "while Grimaud lays out breakfast, we will begin by
picking up the muskets and cartridges, and of course there is nothing
in this employment to prevent our talking. Our friends here," he
added, pointing to the dead, "will pay no attention to us."
"But after we have made sure they have nothing in their pockets, we
had better throw them into the trench," said Porthos.
"Yes," replied Athos, "that is Grimaud's business."
"Well then," said D'Artagnan, "let Grimaud search them, and after he
has done so, throw them over the wall."
"He shall do nothing of the sort," replied Athos; "we may find them
useful yet."
"You are going mad, my good fellow! Of what use can these dead men
be?"
"Don't judge hastily, say the gospel and the Cardinal," replied Athos.
"How many guns have we got?"
"Twelve," said Aramis.
"How many charges?"
"A hundred."
"That will do. Now let us load."
They set to work; and as they finished loading the last gun, Grimaud
made a sign that breakfast was ready.
By a gesture Athos replied that they were ready also, and then pointed
out a pepper-box turret, where Grimaud was to keep watch. To help him
pass the time Athos allowed him to take some bread, two cutlets, and a
bottle of wine....
"Now," said D'Artagnan, "that there is no chance of our being
overheard, I hope you will tell us your secret."
"I trust, gentlemen, to give you both pleasure and glory at once,"
replied Athos. "I have made you take a charming walk, and now here is
an excellent breakfast; while below, as you may see through the
loop-holes, are five hundred persons, who consider us to be either
lunatics or heroes,--two classes of idiots who have much in
common...."
"What is the matter, Grimaud? As the circumstances are grave, I will
allow you to speak, but be short, I beg. What is it?"
"A troop."
"How many?"
"Twenty?"
"What are they?"
"Sixteen pioneers, four soldiers."
"How far off?"
"Five hundred paces."
"Then we have just time to finish this fowl and drink your health,
D'Artagnan."
A few minutes later the troop hove in sight, marching along a narrow
trench that connected the bastion and the town.
"Bah!" said Athos. "It was scarcely worth while disturbing ourselves
for a mere handful of rascals armed with pickaxes, hoes, and shovels.
Grimaud had only got to make them a sign to return whence they came,
and I am sure they would have left us in peace."
"I doubt it," said D'Artagnan, "for they are advancing steadily. And
besides the sappers, there are four soldiers and a brigadier, all
armed with muskets."
"It is only because they have not seen us," replied Athos.
"Upon my honor," cried Aramis, "I feel quite ashamed to fire on poor
devils like that."
"False priest!" exclaimed Porthos, "to have pity on heretics."
"Aramis is right," said Athos. "I will warn them."
"What on earth are you doing?" said D'Artagnan. "You will get yourself
shot, my good fellow."
But Athos paid no attention to this remark, and mounting the breach,
his hat in one hand and his musket in the other, he addressed the
troop, who were so astonished at this unexpected apparition that they
halted about fifty paces distant. "Gentlemen," he said, bowing
courteously as he spoke, "I am at this moment breakfasting with some
friends in the shelter of this bastion. As you know, there is nothing
so unpleasant as to be disturbed during your meals; therefore we
should be greatly obliged if you would postpone any business you may
have here, till we have finished, or else call again. Unless, indeed,
you have the happy inspiration to quit the side of rebellion, and to
drink, with us, to the health of the King of France."
"Do take care, Athos!" exclaimed D'Artagnan; "don't you see they are
aiming at you?"
"Oh, yes, of course," said Athos; "but they are only civilians, who
don't know how to shoot; and they will never touch me."
He had scarcely uttered the words when four muskets fired
simultaneously. The balls fell round Athos, but not one grazed him.
Four muskets immediately answered, but these were better directed than
the others. Three of the soldiers fell dead, and one of the sappers
was wounded.
"Grimaud, another musket," said Athos, who was still on the breach.
Grimaud obeyed; a second volley was fired; the brigadier and two
pioneers fell dead, and the rest of the troop took flight.
"Now we must make a sortie," cried Athos; and the four comrades dashed
out of the fort, picked up the muskets belonging to the dead soldiers,
and retreated to the bastion, carrying the trophies of their
victory....
"To arms!" called Grimaud.
The young men jumped up and ran for their muskets.
This time the advancing troop was composed of twenty or twenty-five
men, but they were no longer sappers, but soldiers of the garrison.
"Hadn't we better return to the camp?" said Porthos. "The fight is not
equal at all."
"Impossible, for three reasons," said Athos. "First, because we
haven't finished breakfast; second, because we have several important
things to discuss; and third, because there are still ten minutes
before the hour is up."
"Well, anyway," remarked Aramis, "we had better have some plan of
campaign."
"It is very simple," replied Athos. "The moment the enemy is within
reach, we fire. If they still come on, we fire again, and go on firing
as long as our guns are loaded. If any of them are left, and they try
to carry the place by assault, we will let them get well into the
ditch, and then drop on their heads a piece of the wall, that only
keeps poised by a kind of miracle."
"Bravo," cried Porthos. "Athos, you were born to be a general; and the
Cardinal, who thinks himself a great commander, is not to be compared
to you."
"Gentlemen," replied Athos, "remember, one thing at a time. Cover your
man well."
"I have mine," said D'Artagnan.
"And I," said Porthos and Aramis.
"Then fire;" and as Athos gave the word, the muskets rang out and four
men fell. Then the drum beat, and the little army advanced to the
charge, while all the while the fire was kept up, irregularly, but
with a sure aim. The Rochellois however did not flinch, but came on
steadily.
When they reached the foot of the bastion, the enemy still numbered
twelve or fifteen. A sharp fire received them, but they never
faltered, and leaping the trench, prepared to scale the breach.
"Now, comrades!" cried Athos. "Let us make an end of them. To the
wall!"
And all four, aided by Grimaud, began to push with their guns a huge
block of wall, which swayed as if with the wind, and then rolled
slowly down into the trench. A horrible cry was heard, a cloud of dust
mounted upwards; and all was silent.
"Have we crushed them all, do you think?" asked Athos.
"It looks like it," answered D'Artagnan.
"No," said Porthos, "for two or three are limping off."
Athos looked at his watch.
"Gentlemen," he said, "an hour has elapsed since we came here, and we
have won our bet." ...
"What is going on in the town?" asked Athos.
"It is a call to arms."
They listened, and the sound of a drum reached their ears.
"They must be sending us an entire regiment," said Athos.
"You don't mean to fight a whole regiment?" said Porthos.
"Why not?" asked the musketeer. "If we had only had the sense to bring
another dozen bottles, I could make head against an army!"
"As I live, the drum is coming nearer," said D'Artagnan.
"Let it," replied Athos. "It takes a quarter of an hour to get from
here to the town, so it takes a quarter of an hour to get from the
town here. That is more than enough time for us to arrange our plans.
If we leave this, we shall never find such a good position.... But I
must first give Grimaud his orders;" and Athos made a sign to his
servant.
"Grimaud," said he, pointing to the dead who were lying on the
bastion, "you will take these gentlemen and prop them up against the
wall, and put their hats on their heads and their guns in their
hands."
"Great man!" ejaculated D'Artagnan; "I begin to see."
"You do?" asked Porthos.
"Do _you_ understand, Grimaud?" said Aramis.
Grimaud nodded.
"Then we are all right," said Athos....
"On guard!" cried D'Artagnan. "Look at those red and black points
moving down there! A regiment, did you call it, Athos?--it is a
perfect army!"
"My word, yes!" said Athos, "there they come! How cunning to beat
neither drums nor trumpets. Are you ready, Grimaud?"
Grimaud silently nodded, and showed them a dozen dead men, arranged
skillfully in various attitudes, some porting arms, some taking aim,
others drawing their swords.
"Well done!" exclaimed Athos, "it does honor to your imagination."
"If it is all the same to you," said Porthos, "I should like to
understand what is going on."
"Let us get away first," replied D'Artagnan, "and you will understand
after."
"One moment, please! Give Grimaud time to clear away the breakfast."
"Ah!" said Aramis; "the red and black specks are becoming more
distinct, and I agree with D'Artagnan that we have no time to lose
before we regain the camp."
"Very well," rejoined Athos, "I have nothing to say against
retreating. The wager was for an hour, and we have been here an hour
and a half. Let us be off at once."
The four comrades went out at the back, following Grimaud, who had
already departed with the basket.
"Oh!" cried Athos, stopping suddenly, "what the devil is to be done?"
"Has anything been forgotten?" asked Aramis.
"Our flag, man, our flag! We can't leave our flag in the enemy's
hands, if it is nothing but a napkin." And Athos dashed again into the
bastion, and bore away the flag unhurt, amid a volley of balls from
the Rochellois.
He waved his flag, while turning his back on the troops of the town,
and saluting those of the camp. From both sides arose great cries, of
anger on the one hand and enthusiasm on the other, and the napkin,
pierced with three bullet-holes, was in truth transformed into a flag.
"Come down, come down!" they shouted from the camp.
Athos came down, and his friends, who had awaited him anxiously,
received him with joy.
"Be quick, Athos," said D'Artagnan; "now that we have got everything
but money, it would be stupid to get killed."
But Athos would not hurry himself, and they had to keep pace with him.
By this time Grimaud and his basket were well beyond bullet range,
while in the distance the sounds of rapid firing might be heard.
"What are they doing?" asked Porthos; "what are they firing at?"
"At our dead men," replied Athos.
"But they don't fire back."
"Exactly so; therefore the enemy will come to the conclusion that
there is an ambuscade. They will hold a council, and send an envoy
with a flag of truce, and when they at last find out the joke, we
shall be out of reach. So it is no use getting apoplexy by racing."
"Oh, I understand," said Porthos, full of astonishment.
"That is a mercy!" replied Athos, shrugging his shoulders, as they
approached the camp, which was watching their progress in a ferment of
admiration.
This time a new fusillade was begun, and the balls whistled close to
the heads of the four victors and fell about their ears. The
Rochellois had entered the bastion.
"What bad shooting!" said D'Artagnan. "How many was it we killed?
Twelve?"
"Twelve or fifteen."
"And how many did we crush?"
"Eight or ten."
"And not a scratch to show for it."
"Ah, what is that on your hand, D'Artagnan? It looks to me like
blood."
"It's nothing," replied D'Artagnan.
"A spent ball?"
"Not even that."
"But what is it, then?" As we have said, the silent and resolute Athos
loved D'Artagnan like his own son, and showed every now and then all
the anxiety of a father.
"The skin is rubbed off, that is all," said D'Artagnan. "My fingers
were caught between two stones--the stone of the wall and the stone of
my ring."
"That is what comes of having diamonds," remarked Athos
disdainfully....
"Here we are at the camp, and they are coming to meet us and bring us
in triumphantly."
And he only spoke the truth, for the whole camp was in a turmoil. More
than two thousand people had gazed, as at a play, at the lucky bit of
braggadocio of the four friends,--braggadocio of which they were far
from suspecting the real motive. The cry of "Long live the
musketeers," resounded on all sides, and M. De Busigny was the first
to hold out his hand to Athos and to declare that he had lost his
wager. The dragoon and the Swiss had followed him, and all the others
had followed the dragoon and the Swiss. There was nothing but
congratulations, hand-shakings, embraces; and the tumult became so
great that the Cardinal thought there must be a revolt, and sent La
Houdiniere, his captain of guards, to find out what was the matter.
"Well?" asked the Cardinal, as his messenger returned.
"Well, monseigneur," replied La Houdiniere, "it is about three
musketeers and a guardsman who made a bet with M. De Busigny to go and
breakfast at the Bastion Saint-Gervais, and while breakfasting, held
it for two hours against the enemy, and killed I don't know how many
Rochellois."
"You asked the names of these gentlemen?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"What are they?"
"Athos, Porthos, and Aramis."
"Always my three heroes," murmured the Cardinal. "And the guardsman?"
"M. D'Artagnan."
"Always my young rogue! I must gain over these men."
And the same evening, the Cardinal had a conversation with M. De
Treville about the morning's exploit, with which the whole camp was
still ringing. M. De Treville, who had heard it all at first hand,
gave his Eminence all the details, not forgetting the episode of the
napkin.
"Very good, M. De Treville," said the Cardinal; "but you must get me
that napkin, and I will have three golden lilies embroidered on it,
and give as a banner to your company."
"Monseigneur," replied M. De Treville, "that would be an injustice to
the guards. M. D'Artagnan does not belong to me, but to M. Des
Essarts."
"Then you must take him," said the Cardinal. "As these four brave
soldiers love each other so much, they ought certainly to be in the
same regiment."
That evening M. De Treville announced the good news to the three
musketeers and to D'Artagnan, and invited them all to breakfast the
following day.
D'Artagnan was nearly beside himself with joy. As we know, it had
been the dream of his life to be a musketeer.