The three friends drew near and discovered a young man
stretched on the ground, bathed in a pool of blood. It was
evident that he had attempted to regain his bed, but had not
had sufficient strength to do so.
Athos, who imagined that he saw him move, was the first to
go up to him.
“Well?” inquired D’Artagnan.
“Well, if he is dead,” said Athos, “he has not been so long,
for he is still warm. But no, his heart is beating. Ho,
there, my friend!”
The wounded man heaved a sigh. D’Artagnan took some water in
the hollow of his hand and threw it upon his face. The man
opened his eyes, made an effort to raise his head, and fell
back again. The wound was in the top of his skull and blood
was flawing copiously.
Aramis dipped a cloth into some water and applied it to the
gash. Again the wounded man opened his eyes and looked in
astonishment at these strangers, who appeared to pity him.
“You are among friends,” said Athos, in English; “so cheer
up, and tell us, if you have the strength to do so, what has
happened?”
“The king,” muttered the wounded man, “the king is a
prisoner.”
“You have seen him?” asked Aramis, in the same language.
The man made no reply.
“Make your mind easy,” resumed Athos, “we are all faithful
servants of his majesty.”
“Is what you tell me true?” asked the wounded man.
“On our honor as gentlemen.”
“Then I may tell you all. I am brother to Parry, his
majesty’s lackey.”
Athos and Aramis remembered that this was the name by which
De Winter had called the man they had found in the passage
of the king’s tent.
“We know him,” said Athos, “he never left the king.”
“Yes, that is he. Well, he thought of me, when he saw the
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king was taken, and as they were passing before the house he
begged in the king’s name that they would stop, as the king
was hungry. They brought him into this room and placed
sentinels at the doors and windows. Parry knew this room, as
he had often been to see me when the king was at Newcastle.
He knew that there was a trap-door communicating with a
cellar, from which one could get into the orchard. He made a
sign, which I understood, but the king’s guards must have
noticed it and held themselves on guard. I went out as if to
fetch wood, passed through the subterranean passage into the
cellar, and whilst Parry was gently bolting the door, pushed
up the board and beckoned to the king to follow me. Alas! he
would not. But Parry clasped his hands and implored him, and
at last he agreed. I went on first, fortunately. The king
was a few steps behind me, when suddenly I saw something
rise up in front of me like a huge shadow. I wanted to cry
out to warn the king, but that very moment I felt a blow as
if the house was falling on my head, and fell insensible.
When I came to myself again, I was stretched in the same
place. I dragged myself as far as the yard. The king and his
escort were no longer there. I spent perhaps an hour in
coming from the yard to this place; then my strength gave
out and I fainted again.”
“And now how are you feeling?”
“Very ill,” replied the wounded man.
“Can we do anything for you?” asked Athos.
“Help to put me on the bed; I think I shall feel better
there.”
“Have you any one to depend on for assistance?”
“My wife is at Durham and may return at any moment. But you
— is there nothing that you want?”
“We came here with the intention of asking for something to
eat.”
“Alas, they have taken everything; there isn’t a morsel of
bread in the house.”
“You hear, D’Artagnan?” said Athos; “we shall have to look
elsewhere for our dinner.”
“It is all one to me now,” said D’Artagnan; “I am no longer
hungry.”
“Faith! neither am I,” said Porthos.