Twenty Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part two

he mounts on the bench to talk to us.”

“But supposing he doesn’t mount?”

“He will; rely upon it. As soon as you see him get up,

stretch out your arm and seize him by the neck. Then,

raising him up as Tobit raised the fish by the gills, you

must pull him into the room, taking care to squeeze him so

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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

tight that he can’t cry out.”

“Oh!” said Porthos. “Suppose I happen to strangle him?”

“To be sure there would only be a Swiss the less in the

world; but you will not do so, I hope. Lay him down here;

we’ll gag him and tie him — no matter where — somewhere.

So we shall get from him one uniform and a sword.”

“Marvelous!” exclaimed Porthos, looking at the Gascon with

the most profound admiration.

“Pooh!” replied D’Artagnan.

“Yes,” said Porthos, recollecting himself, “but one uniform

and one sword will not suffice for two.”

“Well; but there’s his comrade.”

“True,” said Porthos.

“Therefore, when I cough, stretch out your arm.”

“Good!”

The two friends then placed themselves as they had agreed,

Porthos being completely hidden in an angle of the window.

“Good-evening, comrade,” said D’Artagnan in his most

fascinating voice and manner.

“Good-evening, sir,” answered the soldier, in a strong

provincial accent.

“‘Tis not too warm to walk,” resumed D’Artagnan.

“No, sir.”

“And I think a glass of wine will not be disagreeable to

you?”

“A glass of wine will be extremely welcome.”

“The fish bites — the fish bites!” whispered the Gascon to

Porthos.

“I understand,” said Porthos.

“A bottle, perhaps?”

“A whole bottle? Yes, sir.”

“A whole bottle, if you will drink my health.”

“Willingly,” answered the soldier.

“Come, then, and take it, friend,” said the Gascon.

“With all my heart. How convenient that there’s a bench

here. Egad! one would think it had been placed here on

purpose.”

“Get on it; that’s it, friend.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

And D’Artagnan coughed.

That instant the arm of Porthos fell. His hand of iron

grasped, quick as lightning, firm as a pair of blacksmith’s

pincers, the soldier’s throat. He raised him, almost

stifling him as he drew him through the aperture, at the

risk of flaying him in the passage. He then laid him down on

the floor, where D’Artagnan, after giving him just time

enough to draw his breath, gagged him with his long scarf;

and the moment he had done so began to undress him with the

promptitude and dexterity of a man who had learned his

business on the field of battle. Then the soldier, gagged

and bound, was placed upon the hearth, the fire of which had

been previously extinguished by the two friends.

“Here’s a sword and a dress,” said Porthos.

“I take them,” said D’Artagnan, “for myself. If you want

another uniform and sword you must play the same trick over

again. Stop! I see the other soldier issue from the

guardroom and come toward us.”

“I think,” replied Porthos, “it would be imprudent to

attempt the same manoeuvre again; it is said that no man can

succeed twice in the same way, and a failure would be

ruinous. No; I will go down, seize the man unawares and

bring him to you ready gagged.”

“That is better,” said the Gascon.

“Be ready,” said Porthos, as he slipped through the opening.

He did as he said. Porthos seized his opportunity, caught

the next soldier by his neck, gagged him and pushed him like

a mummy through the bars into the room, and entered after

him. Then they undressed him as they had done the first,

laid him on their bed and bound him with the straps which

composed the bed — the bedstead being of oak. This

operation proved as great a success as the first.

“There,” said D’Artagnan, “this is capital! Now let me try

on the dress of yonder chap. Porthos, I doubt if you can

wear it; but should it be too tight, never mind, you can

wear the breastplate and the hat with the red feathers.”

It happened, however, that the second soldier was a Swiss of

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