nsieur Groslow is not a captain of the ordinary kind; he has
a lieutenant, and that lieutenant is Monsieur Mordaunt."

This time the musketeers did more than shudder--they almost cried out.
Those invincible men were subject to a mysterious and fatal influence
which that name had over them; the mere sound of it filled them with
terror.

"What shall we do?" said Athos.

"We must seize the felucca," said Aramis.

"And kill him," said Porthos.

"The felucca is mined," said D'Artagnan. "Those casks which I took for
casks of port wine are filled with powder. When Mordaunt finds himself
discovered he will destroy all, friends and foes; and on my word he
would be bad company in going either to Heaven or to hell."

"You have some plan, then?" asked Athos.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Have you confidence in me?"

"Give your orders," said the three musketeers.

"Very well; come this way."

D'Artagnan went toward a very small, low window, just large enough to
let a man through. He turned it gently on its hinges.

"There," he said, "is our road."

"The deuce! it is a very cold one, my dear friend," said Aramis.

"Stay here, if you like, but I warn you 'twill be rather too warm
presently."

"But we cannot swim to the shore."

"The longboat is yonder, lashed to the felucca. We will take possession
of it and cut the cable. Come, my friends."

"A moment's delay," said Athos; "our servants?"

"Here we are!" they cried.

Meantime the three friends were standing motionless before the awful
sight which D'Artagnan, in raising the shutters, had disclosed to them
through the narrow opening of the window.

Those who have once beheld such a spectacle know that there is nothing
more solemn, more striking, than the raging sea, rolling, with its
deafening roar, its dark billows beneath the pale light of a wintry
moon.

"Gracious Heaven, we are hesitating!" cried D'Artagnan; "if we hesitate
what will the servants do?"

"I do not hesitate, you know," said Grimaud.

"Sir," interposed Blaisois, "I warn you that I can only swim in rivers."

"And I not at all," said Mousqueton.

But D'Artagnan had now slipped through the window.

"You have decided, friend?" said Athos.

"Yes," the Gascon answered; "Athos! you, who are a perfect being, bid
spirit triumph over body. Do you, Aramis, order the servants. Porthos,
kill every one who stands in your way."

And after pressing the hand of Athos, D'Artagnan chose a moment when
th