D’Artagnan set out with his four companions, and followed the trench.
Screened by the revetment, they came within a hundred paces of the bastion. There, on turning round, D’Artagnan perceived that the two soldiers had disappeared.
He thought that they had stayed behind from fear, and so he continued to advance.
At the turning of the counterscarp they found themselves within about sixty paces of the bastion.
No one was to be seen, and the bastion seemed abandoned.
The three men of the forlorn hope were deliberating whether to proceed any farther, when suddenly a circle of smoke enveloped the stone giant, and a dozen balls came whistling round D’Artagnan and his two companions.
They knew what they wanted to know: the bastion was guarded. A longer stay in this dangerous spot would therefore have been uselessly imprudent. D’Artagnan and his two companions turned their backs, and beat a retreat like a flight.
On arriving at the angle of the trench which was to serve them as a rampart, one of the guardsmen fell; a ball had passed through his breast. The other, who was safe and sound, kept on his way to camp.
D’Artagnan was not willing to abandon his companion thus, and stooped down to raise him and assist him in regaining the lines. But at this moment two shots were fired. One ball hit the head of the already wounded guardsman, and the other flattened itself against a rock, after passing within two inches of D’Artagnan.
The young man turned quickly round, for this attack could not come from the bastion, which was masked by the angle of the trench. The idea of the two soldiers who had abandoned him occurred to his mind, and reminded him of the assassins of two evenings before. So he resolved this time to satisfy himself on this point, and fell on his comrade’s body as though he were dead.
He instantly saw two heads appearing above an abandoned work, within thirty paces of him; they were the heads of his two soldiers.
But as he might be merely wounded and might accuse them of their crime, they came up to him with the purpose of ****** sure of him. Fortunately, deceived by D’Artagnan’s trick, they neglected to reload their guns.
When they were within ten paces of him, D’Artagnan, who in falling had taken great care not to let go his sword, suddenly got up, and with one leap came upon them.
The assassins realized that if they fled toward the camp without killing their man they should be accused by him; therefore their first idea was to desert to the enemy. One of them took his gun by the barrel, and used it as he would a club. He aimed a terrible blow at D’Artagnan, who dodged it by springing on one side; but by this movement he left free passage to the bandit, who at once darted off toward the bastion. As the Rochellais who guarded the bastion were ignorant of the intentions of the man they saw coming toward them, they fired at him, and he fell, struck by a ball which broke his shoulder.
Meantime D’Artagnan had thrown himself on the other soldier, attacking him with his sword. The struggle was not long. The wretch had nothing to defend himself with but his discharged arquebuse. The guardsman’s sword slipped down the barrel of the now useless weapon, and pierced the thigh of the assassin, who fell.
D’Artagnan immediately placed the point of the weapon at his throat.
“Wretch,” cried D’Artagnan, “see here, speak quickly! Who employed you to assassinate me?”
“A woman whom I don’t know, but who is called milady.”
“But if you don’t know this woman, how do you know her name?”
“My comrade knew her and called her so. She made the bargain with him, and not with me; he has even now in his pocket a letter from that person, which must be of great importance to you, judging by what I have heard.”
“But how are you concerned in this ambuscade?”
“He proposed to me to undertake it with him, and I agreed.”
“And how much did she give you for this fine enterprise?”
“A hundred louis.”
