of fasting?"

"Oh, no," replied Aramis, "I should much prefer Blaisois; we haven't
known him so long."

One may readily conceive that during these jokes which were intended
chiefly to divert Athos from the scene which had just taken place,
the servants, with the exception of Grimaud, were not silent. Suddenly
Mousqueton uttered a cry of delight, taking from beneath one of the
benches a bottle of wine; and on looking more closely in the same place
he discovered a dozen similar bottles, bread, and a monster junk of
salted beef.

"Oh, sir!" he cried, passing the bottle to Porthos, "we are saved--the
bark is supplied with provisions."

This intelligence restored every one save Athos to gayety.

"Zounds!" exclaimed Porthos, "'tis astonishing how empty violent
agitation makes the stomach."

And he drank off half a bottle at a draught and bit great mouthfuls of
the bread and meat.

"Now," said Athos, "sleep, or try to sleep, my friends, and I will
watch."

In a few moments, notwithstanding their wet clothes, the icy blast that
blew and the previous scene of terror, these hardy adventurers, with
their iron frames, inured to every hardship, threw themselves down,
intending to profit by the advice of Athos, who sat at the helm,
pensively wakeful, guiding the little bark the way it was to go, his
eyes fixed on the heavens, as if he sought to verify not only the road
to France, but the benign aspect of protecting Providence. After some
hours of repose the sleepers were aroused by Athos.

Dawn was shedding its pallid, placid glimmer on the purple ocean, when
at the distance of a musket shot from them was seen a dark gray mass,
above which gleamed a triangular sail; then masters and servants joined
in a fervent cry to the crew of that vessel to hear them and to save.

"A bark!" all cried together.

It was, in fact, a small craft from Dunkirk bound for Boulogne.

A quarter of an hour afterward the rowboat of this craft took them all
aboard. Grimaud tendered twenty guineas to the captain, and at nine
o'clock in the morning, having a fair wind, our Frenchmen set foot on
their native land.

"Egad! how strong one feels here!" said Porthos, almost burying his
large feet in the sands. "Zounds! I could defy a nation!"

"Be quiet, Porthos," said D'Artagnan, "we are observed."

"We are admired, i'faith," answered Porthos.

"These people who are looking at us are only merchants," said Athos,
"and are looking more at the ca