Conversational.
Though Mordaunt had been so completely taken by surprise and had mounted the stairs in such utter confusion, when once seated he recovered himself, as it were, and prepared to seize any possible opportunity of escape. His eye wandered to a long stout sword on his flank and he instinctively slipped it around within reach of his right hand.
D'Artagnan was waiting for a reply to his remark and said nothing. Aramis muttered to himself, "We shall hear nothing but the usual commonplace things."
Porthos sucked his mustache, muttering, "A good deal of ceremony to-night about crushing an adder." Athos shrunk into his corner, pale and motionless as a bas-relief.
The silence, however, could not last forever. So D'Artagnan began:
"Sir," he said, with desperate politeness, "it seems to me that you change your costume almost as rapidly as I have seen the Italian mummers do, whom the Cardinal Mazarin brought over from Bergamo and whom he doubtless took you to see during your travels in France."
Mordaunt did not reply.
"Just now," D'Artagnan continued, "you were disguised -- I mean to say, attired -- as a murderer, and now ---- "
"And now I look very much like a man who is going to be murdered."
"Oh! sir," said D'Artagnan, "how can you talk like that when you are in the company of gentlemen and have such an excellent sword at your side?"
"No sword is excellent enough to be of use against four swords and daggers."
"Well, that is scarcely the question. I had the honor of asking you why you altered your costume. The mask and beard became you very well, and as to the axe, I do not think it would be out of keeping even at this moment. Why, then, have you laid it aside?"
"Because, remembering the scene at Armentieres, I thought I should find four axes for one, as I was to meet four executioners."
"Sir," replied D'Artagnan, in the calmest manner possible, "you are very young; I shall therefore overlook your frivolous remarks. What took place at Armentieres has no connection whatever with the present occasion. We could scarcely have requested your mother to take a sword and fight us."
"Aha! It is a duel, then?" cried Mordaunt, as if disposed to reply at once to the provocation.
Porthos rose, always ready for this kind of adventure.
"Pardon me," said D'Artagnan. "Do not let us do things in a hurry. We will arrange the matter rather better. Confess, Monsieur Mordaunt, that you are anxious to kill some of us."
"All," replied Mordaunt.
"Then, my dear sir; I am convinced that these gentlemen return your kind wishes and will be delighted to kill you also. Of course they will do so as honorable gentlemen, and the best proof I can furnish is this ---- "
So saying, he threw his hat on the ground, pushed back his chair to the wall and bowed to Mordaunt with true French grace.
"At your service, sir," he continued. "My sword is shorter than yours, it's true, but, bah! I think the arm will make up for the sword."
"Halt!" cried Porthos coming forward. "I begin, and without any rhetoric."
"Allow me, Porthos," said Aramis.
Athos did not move. He might have been taken for a statue.
Even his breathing seemed to be arrested.
"Gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "you shall have your turn.
Monsieur Mordaunt dislikes you sufficiently not to refuse you afterward. You can see it in his eye. So pray keep your places, like Athos, whose calmness is entirely laudable.
Besides, we will have no words about it. I have particular business to settle with this gentleman and I shall and will begin."
Porthos and Aramis drew back, disappointed, and drawing his sword D'Artagnan turned to his adversary:
"Sir, I am waiting for you."
"And for my part, gentlemen, I admire you. You are disputing which shall fight me first, but you do not consult me who am most concerned in the matter. I hate you all, but not equally. I hope to kill all four of you, but I am more likely to kill the first than the second, the second than the third, and the third than the last. I claim, then, the right to choose my opponent. If you refuse this right you may kill me, but I shall not fight."
"It is but fair," said Porthos and Aramis, hoping he would choose one of them.
Athos and D'Artagnan said nothing, but their silence seemed to imply consent.
"Well, then," said Mordaunt, "I choose for my adversary the man who, not thinking himself worthy to be called Comte de la Fere, calls himself Athos."
Athos sprang up, but after an instant of motionless silence he said, to the astonishment of his friends, "Monsieur Mordaunt, a duel between us is impossible. Submit this honour to somebody else." And he sat down.
"Ah!" said Mordaunt, with a sneer, "there's one who is afraid."
"Zounds!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, bounding toward him, "who says that Athos is afraid?"
"Let him have his say, D'Artagnan," said Athos, with a smile of sadness and contempt.
"Is it your decision, Athos?" resumed the Gascon.
"Irrevocably."
"You hear, sir," said D'Artagnan, turning to Mordaunt. "The Comte de la Fere will not do you the honor of fighting with you. Choose one of us to replace the Comte de la Fere."
"As long as I don't fight with him it is the same to me with whom I fight. Put your names into a hat and draw lots."
"A good idea," said D'Artagnan.
"At least that will conciliate us all," said Aramis.
"I should never have thought of that," said Porthos, "and yet it is very ******."
"Come, Aramis," said D'Artagnan, "write this for us in those neat little characters in which you wrote to Marie Michon that the mother of this gentleman intended to assassinate the Duke of Buckingham."
Mordaunt sustained this new attack without wincing. He stood with his arms folded, apparently as calm as any man could be in such circumstances. If he had not courage he had what is very like it, namely, pride.