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Updated: July 17, 2025
In the ardor of the rush, Cinq-Mars and Fontrailles, with the young Locmaria, forced their horses upon the rampart itself; but a brisk fusillade killed the three animals, which rolled over their masters. "Dismount all, gentlemen!" cried old Coislin; "forward with pistol and sword! Abandon your horses!" All obeyed instantly, and threw themselves in a mass upon the breach.
"You see Locmaria," replied the fisherman. "Well, but there?" "That is Bangor." "And further on?" "Sauzon, and then Le Palais." "Mordioux! It is a world. Ah! there are some soldiers." "There are seventeen hundred men in Belle-Isle, monsieur," replied the fisherman, proudly. "Do you know that the least garrison is of twenty companies of infantry?"
"If it is the Seigneur de Locmaria's," replied the sailor, "he will leave the dogs to hunt the grotto, for he knows them, and will not enter in himself, being quite sure that the fox will come out the other side; it is there he will wait for him." "It is not the Seigneur de Locmaria who is hunting," replied Aramis, turning pale in spite of his efforts to maintain a placid countenance.
The cavern of Locmaria was sufficiently distant from the mole to render it necessary for our friends to husband their strength in order to reach it. Besides, night was advancing; midnight had struck at the fort. Porthos and Aramis were loaded with money and arms.
Cahuzac," said one, "your horse runs better than mine; I suppose you have exercised it in the King's hunts!" "Ah, I see, 'twas that we might be the sooner rallied that you arrived here first," answered the other. "I think the Marquis de Coislin must be mad, to make four hundred of us charge eight Spanish regiments." "Ha! ha! Locmaria, your plume is a fine ornament; it looks like a weeping willow.
Cahuzac," said one, "your horse runs better than mine; I suppose you have exercised it in the King's hunts!" "Ah, I see, 'twas that we might be the sooner rallied that you arrived here first," answered the other. "I think the Marquis de Coislin must be mad, to make four hundred of us charge eight Spanish regiments." "Ha! ha! Locmaria, your plume is a fine ornament; it looks like a weeping willow.
The end of my left ear that he carried away one day poor fellow! proves it, for it was not out of ill-will he bit it off; quite the contrary. You should have heard how he neighed with rage when any one else came near him; that was the reason why he broke Jean's leg. Good creature, I loved him so! "When he fell I held him on one side with one hand and M. de Locmaria with the other.
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