Thou alarmest me!" said Athos, who never used thee and thou but upon
very particular occasions, "what has happened?"

"Look you, my friends!" cried d'Artagnan, "a horrible suspicion crosses
my mind! Can this be another vengeance of that woman?"

It was now Athos who turned pale.

D'Artagnan rushed toward the refreshment room, the three Musketeers and
the two Guards following him.

The first object that met the eyes of d'Artagnan on entering the
room was Brisemont, stretched upon the ground and rolling in horrible
convulsions.

Planchet and Fourreau, as pale as death, were trying to give him succor;
but it was plain that all assistance was useless--all the features of
the dying man were distorted with agony.

"Ah!" cried he, on perceiving d'Artagnan, "ah! this is frightful! You
pretend to pardon me, and you poison me!"

"I!" cried d'Artagnan. "I, wretch? What do you say?"

"I say that it was you who gave me the wine; I say that it was you who
desired me to drink it. I say you wished to avenge yourself on me, and I
say that it is horrible!"

"Do not think so, Brisemont," said d'Artagnan; "do not think so. I swear
to you, I protest--"

"Oh, but God is above! God will punish you! My God, grant that he may
one day suffer what I suffer!"

"Upon the Gospel," said d'Artagnan, throwing himself down by the dying
man, "I swear to you that the wine was poisoned and that I was going to
drink of it as you did."

"I do not believe you," cried the soldier, and he expired amid horrible
tortures.

"Frightful! frightful!" murmured Athos, while Porthos broke the bottles
and Aramis gave orders, a little too late, that a confessor should be
sent for.

"Oh, my friends," said d'Artagnan, "you come once more to save my life,
not only mine but that of these gentlemen. Gentlemen," continued he,
addressing the Guardsmen, "I request you will be silent with regard to
this adventure. Great personages may have had a hand in what you have
seen, and if talked about, the evil would only recoil upon us."

"Ah, monsieur!" stammered Planchet, more dead than alive, "ah, monsieur,
what an escape I have had!"

"How, sirrah! you were going to drink my wine?"

"To the health of the king, monsieur; I was going to drink a small glass
of it if Fourreau had not told me I was called."

"Alas!" said Fourreau, whose teeth chattered with terror, "I wanted to
get him out of the way that I might drink myself."

"Gentlemen," said d'Artagnan, addres