rns me, and I know how to make
believe that I haven't seen what does not concern me; but I hate
hypocrites, and among that number I place musketeers who are abbes and
abbes who are musketeers; and," he added, turning to Porthos "here's a
gentleman who's of the same opinion as myself."

Porthos, who had not spoken one word, answered merely by a word and a
gesture.

He said "yes" and he put his hand on his sword.

Aramis started back and drew his. D'Artagnan bent forward, ready either
to attack or to stand on his defense.

Athos at that moment extended his hand with the air of supreme command
which characterized him alone, drew out his sword and the scabbard at
the same time, broke the blade in the sheath on his knee and threw the
pieces to his right. Then turning to Aramis:

"Aramis," he said, "break your sword."

Aramis hesitated.

"It must be done," said Athos; then in a lower and more gentle voice, he
added. "I wish it."

Then Aramis, paler than before, but subdued by these words, snapped
the serpent blade between his hands, and then folding his arms, stood
trembling with rage.

These proceedings made D'Artagnan and Porthos draw back. D'Artagnan did
not draw his sword; Porthos put his back into the sheath.

"Never!" exclaimed Athos, raising his right hand to Heaven, "never! I
swear before God, who seeth us, and who, in the darkness of this night
heareth us, never shall my sword cross yours, never my eye express
a glance of anger, nor my heart a throb of hatred, at you. We lived
together, we loved, we hated together; we shed, we mingled our blood
together, and too probably, I may still add, that there may be yet a
bond between us closer even than that of friendship; perhaps there may
be the bond of crime; for we four, we once did condemn, judge and slay
a human being whom we had not any right to cut off from this world,
although apparently fitter for hell than for this life. D'Artagnan, I
have always loved you as my son; Porthos, we slept six years side by
side; Aramis is your brother as well as mine, and Aramis has once loved
you, as I love you now and as I have ever loved you. What can Cardinal
Mazarin be to us, to four men who compelled such a man as Richelieu to
act as we pleased? What is such or such a prince to us, who fixed the
diadem upon a great queen's head? D'Artagnan, I ask your pardon for
having yesterday crossed swords with you; Aramis does the same to
Porthos; now hate me if you can; but for