“Yes, and which terminates at the little creek by a trench which we discovered the day that splendid fox escaped that way.”
“Precisely. In case of misfortune, a boat is to be concealed for us in that cavern; indeed, it must be there by this time. We will wait for a favorable moment; and during the night, to sea!”
“That is a good idea; what shall we gain by it?”
“We shall gain by it that nobody knows that grotto, or rather its issue, except ourselves and two or three hunters of the island; we shall gain by it that if the island is occupied, the scouts, seeing no boat upon the shore, will never imagine we can escape, and will cease to watch.”
“I understand.”
“Well,- the legs?”
“Oh, excellent, just now.”
“You see, then, plainly, that everything conspires to give us quietude and hope. D’Artagnan will clear the sea and give us liberty of action. No more royal fleet or descent to be dreaded. Vive Dieu! Porthos, we have still half a century of good adventures before us; and if I once touch Spanish ground, I swear to you,” added the bishop, with a terrible energy, “that your brevet of duke is not remote as it now appears.”
“We will live in hope,” said Porthos, a little enlivened by the reviving warmth of his companion.
All at once a cry resounded in their ears: “To arms! to arms!”
This cry, repeated by a hundred voices, brought to the chamber where the two friends were conversing surprise to the one and uneasiness to the other. Aramis opened the window; he saw a crowd of people running with torches. Women were seeking places of safety; the armed men were hastening to their posts.
“The fleet! the fleet!” cried a soldier, who recognized Aramis.
“The fleet?” repeated the latter.
“Within half-cannon-shot,” continued the soldier.
“To arms!” cried Aramis.
“To arms!” repeated Porthos, formidably. And both rushed forth towards the pier, to place themselves within the shelter of the batteries. Boats laden with soldiers were seen approaching; they took three directions for the purpose of landing at three points at once.
“What must be done?” said an officer of the guard.
“Stop them; and if they persist, fire!” said Aramis.
Five minutes after, the cannonade began. These were the shots that d’Artagnan had heard as he landed in France. But the boats were too near the pier to allow the cannon to aim correctly. They landed, and the combat began hand to hand.
“What’s the matter, Porthos?” said Aramis to his friend.
“Nothing! nothing!- only my legs. It is really incomprehensible; they will be better when we charge.” In fact, Porthos and Aramis did charge with such vigor, they so thoroughly animated their men, that the Royalists re-embarked precipitately without gaining anything but the wounds they carried away.
“Eh! but, Porthos,” cried Aramis, “we must have a prisoner, quick! quick!” Porthos bent over the stair of the pier, and seized by the nape of the neck one of the officers of the royal army who was waiting till all his people should be in the boat. The arm of the giant lifted up his prey, which served him as a buckler, as he recovered himself without a shot being fired at him.
“Here is a prisoner for you,” said Porthos, coolly, to Aramis.
“Well!” cried the latter, laughing, “have you not calumniated your legs?”
“It was not with my legs I took him,” said Porthos, sadly; “it was with my arms!”
Chapter LXXIV: The Son of Biscarrat
THE Bretons of the isle were very proud of this victory; Aramis did not encourage them in the feeling. “What will happen,” said he to Porthos, when everybody had gone home, “will be that the anger of the King will be roused by the account of the resistance; and that these brave people will be decimated or shot when the island is taken, as it must be.”
“From which it results, then,” said Porthos, “that what we have done is of no use.”
“For the moment it may be of some,” replied the bishop, “for we have a prisoner from whom we shall learn what our enemies are preparing to do.”