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"Don't be in a hurry to weave crowns for our Scotchman. I believe the fellow is here on his own account, for I have heard that these gentlemen born beyond the Tweed are very vindictive. I should not like to be Groslow, if he meets him." "Well?" said Athos, to the man, in English. "No one has come out," he replied.

"Haul in the rope," said the former, "and bring the boat along-side." One of the sailors seized the rope and pulled it. It came to him without resistance. "The cable is cut!" exclaimed the man; "the boat is gone." "The boat gone!" repeated Groslow; "impossible!" "It is nevertheless true," returned the sailor. "See here; nothing in our wake, and here is the end of the rope."

See! the vessel in which you wished to fry us is still smoking; and the situation in which you are is a bed of roses compared to that in which you wished to place us and in which you have placed Monsieur Groslow and his companions." "Sir!" replied Mordaunt, in a tone of deep despair, "my penitence is sincere. Gentlemen, I am young, scarcely twenty-three years old.

"Then, sir, allow me to assure you that your blow was so well directed that you have nearly killed your man." "Nearly? I thought I had quite," said Groslow. "No. It was a very near thing, but he is not dead." As he said this, D'Artagnan gave a glance at Parry, who was standing in front of the king, to show him that the news was meant for him.

"One of your friends!" cried Porthos, "this butcher of unarmed farmers!" "Hush! my dear Porthos. Monsieur Groslow is perhaps rather hasty, it's true, but at bottom I have discovered two good qualities in him he is conceited and stupid." Porthos opened his eyes in amazement; Athos and Aramis looked at one another and smiled; they knew D'Artagnan, and knew that he did nothing without a purpose.

I have told you, and I repeat it, that to-night we rescue Charles I. You left it to me to discover the means and I have done so." Porthos looked at D'Artagnan with an expression of profound admiration. Aramis smiled as one who hopes. Athos was pale, and trembled in every limb. "Speak," said Athos. "We are invited," replied D'Artagnan, "to pass the night with M. Groslow. But do you know where?"

"Jesus Dieu!" he cried; "one of them is trembling with fever, having failed to adapt himself to this charming country of yours, and the other is a knight of Malta, as timid as a young girl; and for greater security we have taken from them even their penknives and pocket scissors." "Well, then," said Groslow, "bring them with you." "But really " said D'Artagnan.

'tis a comfort," said the Gascon, "since we shall not die of thirst. Are they all full?" Grimaud translated the question, and Groslow, who was wiping the perspiration from off his forehead, answered: "Some full, others empty."

I'm not the man you take me for; you are in Captain Rogers's post, are you not? under orders from General Cromwell. Mine, also, are from him!" "Indeed, sir, I recognize you; you are Captain Mordaunt." Mordaunt was startled. "Oh, fear nothing," said the skipper, showing his face. "I am a friend." "Captain Groslow!" cried Mordaunt. "Himself.

It was nine o'clock in the evening; the sentinels had been relieved at eight and Captain Groslow had been on guard for an hour. D'Artagnan and Porthos, armed with their swords, and Athos and Aramis, each carrying a concealed poniard, approached the house which for the time being was Charles Stuart's prison. The two latter followed their captors in the humble guise of captives, without arms.