“But the dogs,- the dogs; have you seen them again; have you heard anything of them; do you know anything about them?”
“I suppose they have gone out by another way.”
“Messieurs,” said one of the young men, “there is in that which is going on, in the paleness and silence of our friend, a mystery which Biscarrat will not or cannot reveal. Only- and that is a certainty- Biscarrat has seen something in the grotto. Well, for my part, I am very curious to see what it is, even if it were the devil. To the grotto, Messieurs! to the grotto!
“To the grotto!” repeated all the voices. And the echo of the cavern carried like a menace to Porthos and Aramis, “To the grotto! to the grotto!” Biscarrat threw himself before his companions. “Messieurs! Messieurs!” cried he, “in the name of Heaven, do not go in!”
“Why, what is there so terrific in the cavern?” asked several at once. “Come, speak, Biscarrat.”
“Decidedly, it is the devil he has seen,” repeated he who had before advanced that hypothesis.
“Well,” said another, “if he has seen him, he need not be selfish; he may as well let us have a look at him in our turns.”
“Messieurs! Messieurs! I beseech you!” urged Biscarrat.
“Nonsense! Let us pass!”
“Messieurs, I implore you not to enter!”
“Why, you went in yourself.”
Then one of the officers who, of a riper age than the others, had till this time remained behind and had said nothing, advanced. “Messieurs,” said he, with a calmness which contrasted with the animation of the young men, “there is down there some person or some thing which is not the devil but which, whatever it may be, has had sufficient power to silence our dogs. We must know who this some one is, or what this something is.”
Biscarrat made a last effort to stop his friends; but it was useless. In vain he threw himself before the most rash; in vain he clung to the rocks to bar the passage; the crowd of young men rushed into the cave in the steps of the officer who had spoken last, but who had sprung in first, sword in hand, to face the unknown danger. Biscarrat, repulsed by his friends, not able to accompany them without passing in the eyes of Porthos and Aramis for a traitor and a perjurer, with attentive ear and still supplicating hands leaned against the rough side of a rock which he thought must be exposed to the fire of the musketeers. As to the guards, they penetrated farther and farther, with cries that grew weaker as they advanced. All at once, a discharge of musketry, growling like thunder, exploded beneath the vault. Two or three balls were flattened against the rock where Biscarrat was leaning. At the same instant cries, howlings, and imprecations burst forth, and the little troop of gentlemen reappeared- some pale, some bleeding- all enveloped in a cloud of smoke, which the outward air seemed to draw from the depths of the cavern. “Biscarrat! Biscarrat!” cried the fugitives, “you knew there was an ambuscade in that cavern, and you have not warned us! Biscarrat, you have caused four of us to be killed! Woe be to you, Biscarrat!”
“You are the cause of my being wounded to death,” said one of the young men, gathering his blood in his hand, and casting it into the face of Biscarrat. “My blood be upon your head!” And he rolled in agony at the feet of the young man.
“But, at least, tell us who is there!” cried several furious voices.
Biscarrat remained silent. “Tell us, or die!” cried the wounded man, raising himself upon one knee, and lifting towards his companion an arm bearing a useless sword. Biscarrat rushed towards him, opening his breast for the blow, but the wounded man fell back not to rise again, uttering a groan which was his last. Biscarrat, with hair on end, haggard eyes, and bewildered head, advanced towards the interior of the cavern, saying, “You are right. Death to me, who have allowed my companions to be assassinated! I am a base wretch!” And throwing away his sword, for he wished to die without defending himself, he rushed head foremost into the cavern. The eleven who remained out of sixteen imitated his example; but they did not go farther than before. A second discharge laid five upon the icy sand; and as it was impossible to see whence this murderous thunder issued, the others fell back with a terror than can be better imagined than described. But, far from flying, as the others had done, Biscarrat remained, safe and sound, seated on a fragment of rock, and waited. There were only six gentlemen left.