is time I, too, saw them," said Porthos.

"On! on! forward! forward!" cried D'Artagnan, in his stentorian voice;
"we shall laugh over all this in five minutes."

And they darted on anew. The horses, excited by pain and emulation,
raced over the dark road, in the midst of which was now seen a moving
mass, denser and more obscure than the rest of the horizon.

26. The Rencontre.

They rode on in this way for ten minutes. Suddenly two dark forms seemed
to separate from the mass, advanced, grew in size, and as they loomed up
larger and larger, assumed the appearance of two horsemen.

"Aha!" cried D'Artagnan, "they're coming toward us."

"So much the worse for them," said Porthos.

"Who goes there?" cried a hoarse voice.

The three horsemen made no reply, stopped not, and all that was heard
was the noise of swords drawn from the scabbards and the cocking of the
pistols with which the two phantoms were armed.

"Bridle in mouth!" said D'Artagnan.

Porthos understood him and he and the lieutenant each drew with the left
hand a pistol from their bolsters and cocked it in their turn.

"Who goes there?" was asked a second time. "Not a step forward, or
you're dead men."

"Stuff!" cried Porthos, almost choked with dust and chewing his bridle
as a horse chews his bit. "Stuff and nonsense; we have seen plenty of
dead men in our time."

Hearing these words, the two shadows blockaded the road and by the light
of the stars might be seen the shining of their arms.

"Back!" shouted D'Artagnan, "or you are dead!"

Two shots were the reply to this threat; but the assailants attacked
their foes with such velocity that in a moment they were upon them;
a third pistol-shot was heard, aimed by D'Artagnan, and one of his
adversaries fell. As for Porthos, he assaulted the foe with such
violence that, although his sword was thrust aside, the enemy was thrown
off his horse and fell about ten steps from it.

"Finish, Mouston, finish the work!" cried Porthos. And he darted on
beside his friend, who had already begun a fresh pursuit.

"Well?" said Porthos.

"I've broken my man's skull," cried D'Artagnan. "And you----"

"I've only thrown the fellow down, but hark!"

Another shot of a carbine was heard. It was Mousqueton, who was obeying
his master's command.

"On! on!" cried D'Artagnan; "all goes well! we have the first throw."

"Ha! ha!" answered Porthos, "behold, other players appear."

And in fact, two other caval