It is time to pass to the other camp, and to describe at once the
combatants and the field of battle. Aramis and Porthos had gone to the
grotto of Locmaria with the expectation of finding there their canoe
ready armed, as well as the three Bretons, their assistants; and they
at first hoped to make the bark pass through the little issue of the
cavern, concealing in that fashion both their labors and their flight.
The arrival of the fox and dogs obliged them to remain concealed. The
grotto extended the space of about a hundred _toises_, to that little
slope dominating a creek. Formerly a temple of the Celtic divinities,
when Belle-Isle was still called Kalonese, this grotto had beheld more
than one human sacrifice accomplished in its mystic depths. The first
entrance to the cavern was by a moderate descent, above which distorted
rocks formed a weird arcade; the interior, very uneven and dangerous
from the inequalities of the vault, was subdivided into several
compartments, which communicated with each other by means of rough and
jagged steps, fixed right and left, in uncouth natural pillars. At the
third compartment the vault was so low, the passage so narrow, that the
bark would scarcely have passed without touching the side; nevertheless,
in moments of despair, wood softens and stone grows flexible beneath the
human will. Such was the thought of Aramis, when, after having fought
the fight, he decided upon flight--a flight most dangerous, since all
the assailants were not dead; and that, admitting the possibility of
putting the bark to sea, they would have to fly in open day, before the
conquered, so interested on recognizing their small number, in pursuing
their conquerors. When the two discharges had killed ten men, Aramis,
familiar with the windings of the cavern, went to reconnoiter them one
by one, and counted them, for the smoke prevented seeing outside; and
he immediately commanded that the canoe should be rolled as far as the
great stone, the closure of the liberating issue. Porthos collected all
his strength, took the canoe in his arms, and raised it up, whilst the
Bretons made it run rapidly along the rollers. They had descended into
the third compartment; they had arrived at the stone which walled the
outlet. Porthos seized this gigantic stone at its base, applied his
robust shoulder, and gave a heave which made the wall crack. A cloud of
dust fell from the vault, with the ashes of ten thousand generations of
sea birds, whose nests stuck like cement to the rock. At the third shock
the stone gave way, and oscillated for a minute. Porthos, placing his
back against the neighboring rock, made an arch with his foot, which
drove the block out of the calcareous masses which served for hinges and
cramps. The stone fell, and daylight was visible, brilliant, radiant,
flooding the cavern through the opening, and the blue sea appeared to
the delighted Bretons. They began to lift the bark over the barricade.
Twenty more _toises_, and it would glide into the ocean. It was during
this time that the company arrived, was drawn up by the captain, and
disposed for either an escalade or an assault. Aramis watched
over everything, to favor the labors of his friends. He saw the
reinforcements, counted the men, and convinced himself at a single
glance of the insurmountable peril to which fresh combat would expose
them. To escape by sea, at the moment the cavern was about to be
invaded, was impossible. In fact, the daylight which had just been
admitted to the last compartments had exposed to the soldiers the bark
being rolled towards the sea, the two rebels within musket-shot; and
one of their discharges would riddle the boat if it did not kill the
navigators. Besides, allowing everything,--if the bark escaped with the
men on board of it, how could the alarm be suppressed--how could notice
to the royal lighters be prevented? What could hinder the poor canoe,
followed by sea and watched from the shore, from succumbing before the
end of the day? Aramis, digging his hands into his gray hair with rage,
invoked the assistance of God and the assistance of the demons. Calling
to Porthos, who was doing more work than all the rollers--whether of
flesh or wood--“My friend,” said he, “our adversaries have just received
a reinforcement.”
“Ah, ah!” said Porthos, quietly, “what is to be done, then?”
“To recommence the combat,” said Aramis, “is hazardous.”
“Yes,” said Porthos, “for it is difficult to suppose that out of two,
one should not be killed; and certainly, if one of us was killed, the
other would get himself killed also.” Porthos spoke these words with
that heroic nature which, with him, grew grander with necessity.
Aramis felt it like a spur to his heart. “We shall neither of us be
killed if you do what I tell you, friend Porthos.”
“Tell me what?”
“These people are coming down into the grotto.”
“Yes.”
“We could kill about fifteen of them, but no more.”
“How many are there in all?” asked Porthos.
“They have received a reinforcement of seventy-five men.”
“Seventy-five and five, eighty. Ah!” sighed Porthos.
“If they fire all at once they will riddle us with balls.”
“Certainly they will.”
“Without reckoning,” added Aramis, “that the detonation might occasion a
collapse of the cavern.”
“Ay,” said Porthos, “a piece of falling rock just now grazed my
shoulder.”
“You see, then?”
“Oh! it is nothing.”
“We must determine upon something quickly. Our Bretons are going to
continue to roll the canoe towards the sea.”
“Very well.”
“We two will keep the powder, the balls, and the muskets here.”
“But only two, my dear Aramis--we shall never fire three shots
together,” said Porthos, innocently, “the defense by musketry is a bad
one.”
“Find a better, then.”
“I have found one,” said the giant, eagerly; “I will place myself
in ambuscade behind the pillar with this iron bar, and invisible,
unattackable, if they come in floods, I can let my bar fall upon their
skulls, thirty times in a minute. _Hein!_ what do you think of the
project? You smile!”
“Excellent, dear friend, perfect! I approve it greatly; only you will
frighten them, and half of them will remain outside to take us by
famine. What we want, my good friend, is the entire destruction of the
troop. A single survivor encompasses our ruin.”
“You are right, my friend, but how can we attract them, pray?”
“By not stirring, my good Porthos.”
“Well! we won’t stir, then; but when they are all together--”
“Then leave it to me, I have an idea.”
“If it is so, and your idea proves a good one--and your idea is most
likely to be good--I am satisfied.”
“To your ambuscade, Porthos, and count how many enter.”
“But you, what will you do?”
“Don’t trouble yourself about me; I have a task to perform.”
“I think I hear shouts.”
“It is they! To your post. Keep within reach of my voice and hand.”
Porthos took refuge in the second compartment, which was in darkness,
absolutely black. Aramis glided into the third; the giant held in his
hand an iron bar of about fifty pounds weight. Porthos handled this
lever, which had been used in rolling the bark, with marvelous facility.
During this time, the Bretons had pushed the bark to the beach. In the
further and lighter compartment, Aramis, stooping and concealed, was
busy with some mysterious maneuver. A command was given in a loud voice.
It was the last order of the captain commandant. Twenty-five men jumped
from the upper rocks into the first compartment of the grotto, and
having taken their ground, began to fire. The echoes shrieked and
barked, the hissing balls seemed actually to rarefy the air, and then
opaque smoke filled the vault.
“To the left! to the left!” cried Biscarrat, who, in his first assault,
had seen the passage to the second chamber, and who, animated by the
smell of powder, wished to guide his soldiers in that direction. The
troop, accordingly, precipitated themselves to the left--the passage
gradually growing narrower. Biscarrat, with his hands stretched forward,
devoted to death, marched in advance of the muskets. “Come on! come on!”
exclaimed he, “I see daylight!”
“Strike, Porthos!” cried the sepulchral voice of Aramis.
Porthos breathed a heavy sigh--but he obeyed. The iron bar fell full and
direct upon the head of Biscarrat, who was dead before he had ended his
cry. Then the formidable lever rose ten times in ten seconds, and
made ten corpses. The soldiers could see nothing; they heard sighs and
groans; they stumbled over dead bodies, but as they had no conception
of the cause of all this, they came forward jostling each other. The
implacable bar, still falling, annihilated the first platoon, without
a single sound to warn the second, which was quietly advancing; only,
commanded by the captain, the men had stripped a fir, growing on the
shore, and, with its resinous branches twisted together, the captain had
made a flambeau. On arriving at the compartment where Porthos, like the
exterminating angel, had destroyed all he touched, the first rank drew
back in terror. No firing had replied to that of the guards, and yet
their way was stopped by a heap of dead bodies--they literally walked in
blood. Porthos was still behind his pillar. The captain, illumining with
trembling pine-torch this frightful carnage, of which he in vain
sought the cause, drew back towards the pillar behind which Porthos was
concealed. Then a gigantic hand issued from the shade, and fastened
on the throat of the captain, who uttered a stifle rattle; his
stretched-out arms beating the air, the torch fell and was extinguished
in blood. A second after, the corpse of the captain dropped close to
the extinguished torch, and added another body to the heap of dead which
blocked up the passage. All this was effected as mysteriously as though
by magic. At hearing the rattling in the throat of the captain, the
soldiers who accompanied him had turned round, caught a glimpse of his
extended arms, his eyes starting from their sockets, and then the torch
fell and they were left in darkness. From an unreflective, instinctive,
mechanical feeling, the lieutenant cried:
“Fire!”
Immediately a volley of musketry flamed, thundered, roared in the
cavern, bringing down enormous fragments from the vaults. The cavern was
lighted for an instant by this discharge, and then immediately returned
to pitchy darkness rendered thicker by the smoke. To this succeeded a
profound silence, broken only by the steps of the third brigade, now
entering the cavern.