To this flow of words, not perhaps in the best taste, but characteristic
of D'Artagnan, whose principal object was to divert his opponent's
attention, Mordaunt did not reply, but continuing to turn around he
succeeded in changing places with D'Artagnan.

He smiled more and more sarcastically and his smile began to make the
Gascon anxious.

"Come, come," cried D'Artagnan, "we must finish with this," and in
his turn he pressed Mordaunt hard, who continued to lose ground, but
evidently on purpose and without letting his sword leave the line for a
moment. However, as they were fighting in a room and had not space to go
on like that forever, Mordaunt's foot at last touched the wall, against
which he rested his left hand.

"Ah, this time you cannot lose ground, my fine friend!" exclaimed
D'Artagnan. "Gentlemen, did you ever see a scorpion pinned to a wall?
No. Well, then, you shall see it now."

In a second D'Artagnan had made three terrible thrusts at Mordaunt, all
of which touched, but only pricked him. The three friends looked on,
panting and astonished. At last D'Artagnan, having got up too close,
stepped back to prepare a fourth thrust, but the moment when, after a
fine, quick feint, he was attacking as sharply as lightning, the wall
seemed to give way, Mordaunt disappeared through the opening, and
D'Artagnan's blade, caught between the panels, shivered like a sword of
glass. D'Artagnan sprang back; the wall had closed again.

Mordaunt, in fact, while defending himself, had manoeuvred so as to
reach the secret door by which Cromwell had left, had felt for the knob
with his left hand, pressed it and disappeared.

The Gascon uttered a furious imprecation, which was answered by a wild
laugh on the other side of the iron panel.

"Help me, gentlemen," cried D'Artagnan, "we must break in this door."

"It is the devil in person!" said Aramis, hastening forward.

"He escapes us," growled Porthos, pushing his huge shoulder against the
hinges, but in vain. "'Sblood! he escapes us."

"So much the better," muttered Athos.

"I thought as much," said D'Artagnan, wasting his strength in useless
efforts. "Zounds, I thought as much when the wretch kept moving around
the room. I thought he was up to something."

"It's a misfortune, to which his friend, the devil, treats us," said
Aramis.

"It's a piece of good fortune sent from Heaven," said Athos, evidently
much relieved.

"Really!" said D'Artagnan, abandoning the attemp