They rode on in this way for ten minutes. Suddenly two darkforms seemed to separate from the mass, advanced, grew insize, and as they loomed up larger and larger, assumed theappearance of two horsemen.

"Aha!" cried D'Artagnan, "they're coming toward us."

"So much the worse for them," said Porthos.

"Who goes there?" cried a hoarse voice.

The three horsemen made no reply, stopped not, and all thatwas heard was the noise of swords drawn from the scabbardsand the cocking of the pistols with which the two phantomswere armed.

"Bridle in mouth!" said D'Artagnan.

Porthos understood him and he and the lieutenant each drewwith the left hand a pistol from their bolsters and cockedit in their turn.

"Who goes there?" was asked a second time. "Not a stepforward, or you're dead men."

"Stuff!" cried Porthos, almost choked with dust and chewinghis bridle as a horse chews his bit. "Stuff and nonsense; wehave seen plenty of dead men in our time."

Hearing these words, the two shadows blockaded the road andby the light of the stars might be seen the shining of theirarms.

"Back!" shouted D'Artagnan, "or you are dead!"

Two shots were the reply to this threat; but the assailantsattacked their foes with such velocity that in a moment theywere upon them; a third pistol-shot was heard, aimed byD'Artagnan, and one of his adversaries fell. As for Porthos,he assaulted the foe with such violence that, although hissword was thrust aside, the enemy was thrown off his horseand fell about ten steps from it.

"Finish, Mouston, finish the work!" cried Porthos. And hedarted on beside his friend, who had already begun a freshpursuit.

"Well?" said Porthos.

"I've broken my man's skull," cried D'Artagnan. "And you- - "

"I've only thrown the fellow down, but hark!"

Another shot of a carbine was heard. It was Musqueton, whowas obeying his master's command.

"On! on!" cried D'Artagnan; "all goes well! we have thefirst throw."

"Ha! ha!" answered Porthos, "behold, other players appear."

And in fact, two other cavaliers made their appearance,detached, as it seemed, from the principal group; they againdisputed the road.

This time the lieutenant did not wait for the opposite partyto speak.

"Stand aside!" he cried; "stand off the road!"

"What do you want?" asked a voice.

"The duke!" Porthos and D'Artagnan roared out both at once.

A burst of laughter was the answer, but finished with agroan. D'Artagnan had, with his sword, cut in two the poorwretch who had laughed.

At the same time Porthos and his adversary fired on eachother and D'Artagnan turned to him.

"Bravo! you've killed him, I think."

"No, wounded his horse only."

"What would you have, my dear fellow? One doesn't hit thebull's-eye every time; it is something to hit inside thering. Ho! parbleau! what is the matter with my horse?"

"Your horse is falling," said Porthos, reining in his own.

In truth, the lieutenant's horse stumbled and fell on hisknees; then a rattling in his throat was heard and he laydown to die. He had received in the chest the bullet ofD'Artagnan's first adversary. D'Artagnan swore loud enoughto be heard in the skies.

"Does your honor want a horse?" asked Musqueton.

"Zounds! want one!" cried the Gascon.

"Here's one, your honor - - "

"How the devil hast thou two horses?" asked D'Artagnan,jumping on one of them.

"Their masters are dead! I thought they might be useful, soI took them."

Meantime Porthos had reloaded his pistols.

"Be on the qui vive!" cried D'Artagnan. "Here are two othercavaliers."

As he spoke, two horsemen advanced at full speed.

"Ho! your honor!" cried Musqueton, "the man you upset isgetting up."

"Why didn't thou do as thou didst to the first man?" saidPorthos.

"I held the horses, my hands were full, your honor."

A shot was fired that moment; Musqueton shrieked with pain.

"Ah, sir! I'm hit in the other side! exactly opposite theother! This hurt is just the fellow of the one I had on theroad to Amiens."

Porthos turned around like a lion, plunged on the dismountedcavalier, who tried to draw his sword; but before it was outof the scabbard, Porthos, with the hilt of his had struckhim such a terrible blow on the head that he fell like an oxbeneath the butcher's knife.

Musqueton, groaning, slipped from his horse, his wound notallowing him to keep the saddle.

On perceiving the cavaliers, D'Artagnan had stopped andcharged his pistol afresh; besides, his horse, he found, hada carbine on the bow of the saddle.

"Here I am!" exclaimed Porthos. "Shall we wait, or shall wecharge?"

"Let us charge them," answered the Gascon.

"Charge!" cried Porthos.

They spurred on their horses; the other cavaliers were onlytwenty steps from them.

"For the king!" cried D'Artagnan.

"The king has no authority here!" answered a deep voice,which seemed to proceed from a cloud, so enveloped was thecavalier in a whirlwind of dust.

"'Tis well, we will see if the king's name is not a passporteverywhere," replied the Gascon.

"See!" answered the voice.

Two shots were fired at once, one by D'Artagnan, the otherby the adversary of Porthos. D'Artagnan's ball took off hisenemy's hat. The ball fired by Porthos's foe went throughthe throat of his horse, which fell, groaning.

"For the last time, where are you going?"

"To the devil!" answered D'Artagnan.

"Good! you may be easy, then - you'll get there."

D'Artagnan then saw a musket-barrel leveled at him; he hadno time to draw from his holsters. He recalled a bit ofadvice which Athos had once given him, and made his horserear.

The ball struck the animal full in front. D'Artagnan felthis horse giving way under him and with his wonderfulagility threw himself to one side.

"Ah! this," cried the voice, the tone of which was at oncepolished and jeering, "this is nothing but a butchery ofhorses and not a combat between men. To the sword, sir! thesword!"

And he jumped off his horse.

"To the swords! be it so!" replied D'Artagnan; "that isexactly what I want."

D'Artagnan, in two steps, was engaged with the foe, whom,according to custom, he attacked impetuously, but he metthis time with a skill and a strength of arm that gave himpause. Twice he was obliged to step back; his opponentstirred not one inch. D'Artagnan returned and again attackedhim.

Twice or thrice thrusts were attempted on both sides,without effect; sparks were emitted from the swords likewater spouting forth.

At last D'Artagnan thought it was time to try one of hisfavorite feints in fencing. He brought it to bear,skillfully executed it with the rapidity of lightning, andstruck the blow with a force which he fancied would proveirresistible.

The blow was parried.

"'Sdeath!" he cried, with his Gascon accent.

At this exclamation his adversary bounded back and, bendinghis bare head, tried to distinguish in the gloom thefeatures of the lieutenant.

As to D'Artagnan, afraid of some feint, he still stood onthe defensive.

"Have a care," cried Porthos to his opponent; "I've stilltwo pistols charged."

"The more reason you should fire the first!" cried his foe.

Porthos fired; the flash threw a gleam of light over thefield of battle.

As the light shone on them a cry was heard from the othertwo combatants.

"Athos!" exclaimed D'Artagnan.

"D'Artagnan!" ejaculated Athos.

Athos raised his sword; D'Artagnan lowered his.

"Aramis!" cried Athos, "don't fire!"

"Ah! ha! is it you, Aramis?" said Porthos.

And he threw away his pistol.

Aramis pushed his back into his saddle-bags and sheathed hissword.

"My son!" exclaimed Athos, extending his hand to D'Artagnan.

This was the name which he gave him in former days, in theirmoments of tender intimacy.

"Athos!" cried D'Artagnan, wringing his hands. "So youdefend him! And I, who have sworn to take him dead or alive,I am dishonored - and by you!"

"Kill me!" replied Athos, uncovering his breast, "if yourhonor requires my death."

"Oh! woe is me! woe is me!" cried the lieutenant; "there'sonly one man in the world who could stay my hand; by afatality that very man bars my way. What shall I say to thecardinal?"

"You can tell him, sir," answered a voice which was thevoice of high command in the battle-field, "that he sentagainst me the only two men capable of getting the better offour men; of fighting man to man, without discomfiture,against the Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d'Herblay,and of surrendering only to fifty men!

"The prince!" exclaimed at the same moment Athos and Aramis,unmasking as they addressed the Duc de Beaufort, whilstD'Artagnan and Porthos stepped backward.

"Fifty cavaliers!" cried the Gascon and Porthos.

"Look around you, gentlemen, if you doubt the fact," saidthe duke.

The two friends looked to the right, to the left; they wereencompassed by a troop of horsemen.

"Hearing the noise of the fight," resumed the duke, "Ifancied you had about twenty men with you, so I came backwith those around me, tired of always running away, andwishing to draw my sword in my own cause; but you are onlytwo."

"Yes, my lord; but, as you have said, two that are a matchfor twenty," said Athos.

"Come, gentlemen, your swords," said the duke.

"Our swords!" cried D'Artagnan, raising his head andregaining his self-possession. "Never!"

"Never!" added Porthos.

Some of the men moved toward them.

"One moment, my lord," whispered Athos, and he saidsomething in a low voice.

"As you will," replied the duke. "I am too much indebted toyou to refuse your first request. Gentlemen," he said to hisescort, "withdraw. Monsieur d'Artagnan, Monsieur du Vallon,you are free."

The order was obeyed; D'Artagnan and Porthos then foundthemselves in the centre of a large circle.

"Now, D'Herblay," said Athos, "dismount and come here."

Aramis dismounted and went to Porthos, whilst Athosapproached D'Artagnan.

All four once more together.

"Friends!" said Athos, "do you regret you have not shed ourblood?"

"No," replied D'Artagnan; "I regret to see that we, hithertounited, are opposed to each other. Ah! nothing will ever gowell with us hereafter!"

"Oh, Heaven! No, all is over!" said Porthos.

"Well, be on our side now," resumed Aramis.

"Silence, D'Herblay!" cried Athos; "such proposals are notto be made to gentlemen such as these. 'Tis a matter ofconscience with them, as with us."

"Meantime, here we are, enemies!" said Porthos. "Gramercy!who would ever have thought it?"

D'Artagnan only sighed.

Athos looked at them both and took their hands in his.

"Gentlemen," he said, "this is a serious business and myheart bleeds as if you had pierced it through and through.Yes, we are severed; there is the great, the distressingtruth! But we have not as yet declared war; perhaps we shallhave to make certain conditions, therefore a solemnconference is indispensable."

"For my own part, I demand it," said Aramis.

"I accept it," interposed D'Artagnan, proudly.

Porthos bowed, as if in assent.

"Let us choose a place of rendezvous," continued Athos, "andin a last interview arrange our mutual position and theconduct we are to maintain toward each other."

"Good!" the other three exclaimed.

"Well, then, the place?"

"Will the Place Royale suit you?" asked D'Artagnan.

"In Paris?"

"Yes."

Athos and Aramis looked at each other.

"The Place Royale - be it so!" replied Athos.

"When?"

"To-morrow evening, if you like!"

"At what hour?"

"At ten in the evening, if that suits you; by that time weshall have returned."

"Good."

"There," continued Athos, "either peace or war will bedecided; honor, at all events, will be maintained!"

"Alas!" murmured D'Artagnan, "our honor as soldiers is lostto us forever!"

"D'Artagnan," said Athos, gravely, "I assure you that you dome wrong in dwelling so upon that. What I think of is, thatwe have crossed swords as enemies. Yes," he continued, sadlyshaking his head, "Yes, it is as you said, misfortune,indeed, has overtaken us. Come, Aramis."

"And we, Porthos," said D'Artagnan, "will return, carryingour shame to the cardinal."

"And tell him," cried a voice, "that I am not too old yetfor a man of action."

D'Artagnan recognized the voice of De Rochefort.

"Can I do anything for you, gentlemen?" asked the duke.

"Bear witness that we have done all that we could."

"That shall be testified to, rest assured. Adieu! we shallmeet soon, I trust, in Paris, where you shall have yourrevenge." The duke, as he spoke, kissed his hand, spurredhis horse into a gallop and disappeared, followed by histroop, who were soon lost in distance and darkness.

D'Artagnan and Porthos were now alone with a man who held bythe bridles two horses; they thought it was Musqueton andwent up to him.

"What do I see?" cried the lieutenant. "Grimaud, is itthou?"

Grimaud signified that he was not mistaken.

"And whose horses are these?" cried D'Artagnan.

"Who has given them to us?" said Porthos.

"The Comte de la Fere."

"Athos! Athos!" muttered D'Artagnan; "you think of everyone; you are indeed a nobleman! Whither art thou going,Grimaud?"

"To join the Vicomte de Bragelonne in Flanders, your honor."

They were taking the road toward Paris, when groans, whichseemed to proceed from a ditch, attracted their attention.

"What is that?" asked D'Artagnan.

"It is I - Musqueton," said a mournful voice, whilst a sortof shadow arose out of the side of the road.

Porthos ran to him. "Art thou dangerously wounded, my dearMusqueton?" he said.

"No, sir, but I am severely."

"What can we do?" said D'Artagnan; "we must return toParis."

"I will take care of Musqueton," said Grimaud; and he gavehis arm to his old comrade, whose eyes were full of tears,nor could Grimaud tell whether the tears were caused bywounds or by the pleasure of seeing him again.

D'Artagnan and Porthos went on, meantime, to Paris. Theywere passed by a sort of courier, covered with dust, thebearer of a letter from the duke to the cardinal, givingtestimony to the valor of D'Artagnan and Porthos.

Mazarin had passed a very bad night when this letter wasbrought to him, announcing that the duke was free and thathe would henceforth raise up mortal strife against him.

"What consoles me," said the cardinal after reading theletter, "is that, at least, in this chase, D'Artagnan hasdone me one good turn - he has destroyed Broussel. ThisGascon is a precious fellow; even his misadventures are ofuse."

The cardinal referred to that man whom D'Artagnan upset atthe corner of the Cimetiere Saint Jean in Paris, and who wasno other than the Councillor Broussel.