Then, as if his strength failed him, he seemed unable to sustain himself
above the water and a wave passed over his head, which drowned his
voice.

"Oh! this is torture to me," cried Athos.

Mordaunt reappeared.

"For my part," said D'Artagnan, "I say this must come to an end;
murderer, as you were, of your uncle! executioner, as you were, of King
Charles! incendiary! I recommend you to sink forthwith to the bottom of
the sea; and if you come another fathom nearer, I'll stave your wicked
head in with this oar."

"D'Artagnan! D'Artagnan!" cried Athos, "my son, I entreat you; the
wretch is dying, and it is horrible to let a man die without extending a
hand to save him. I cannot resist doing so; he must live."

"Zounds!" replied D'Artagnan, "why don't you give yourself up directly,
feet and hands bound, to that wretch? Ah! Comte de la Fere, you wish to
perish by his hands! I, your son, as you call me--I will not let you!"

'Twas the first time D'Artagnan had ever refused a request from Athos.

Aramis calmly drew his sword, which he had carried between his teeth as
he swam.

"If he lays his hand on the boat's edge I will cut it off, regicide that
he is."

"And I," said Porthos. "Wait."

"What are you going to do?" asked Aramis.

"Throw myself in the water and strangle him."

"Oh, gentlemen!" cried Athos, "be men! be Christians! See! death is
depicted on his face! Ah! do not bring on me the horrors of remorse!
Grant me this poor wretch's life. I will bless you--I----"

"I am dying!" cried Mordaunt, "come to me! come to me!"

D'Artagnan began to be touched. The boat at this moment turned around,
and the dying man was by that turn brought nearer Athos.

"Monsieur the Comte de la Fere," he cried, "I supplicate you! pity me!
I call on you--where are you? I see you no longer--I am dying--help me!
help me!"

"Here I am, sir!" said Athos, leaning and stretching out his arm to
Mordaunt with that air of dignity and nobility of soul habitual to him;
"here I am, take my hand and jump into our boat."

Mordaunt made a last effort--rose--seized the hand thus extended to him
and grasped it with the vehemence of despair.

"That's right," said Athos; "put your other hand here." And he offered
him his shoulder as another stay and support, so that his head almost
touched that of Mordaunt; and these two mortal enemies were in as close
an embrace as if they had been brothers.

"Now, sir," said the count, "you are safe-