that he had attempted
to regain his bed, but had not had sufficient strength to do so.

Athos, who imagined that he saw him move, was the first to go up to him.

"Well?" inquired D'Artagnan.

"Well, if he is dead," said Athos, "he has not been so long, for he is
still warm. But no, his heart is beating. Ho, there, my friend!"

The wounded man heaved a sigh. D'Artagnan took some water in the hollow
of his hand and threw it upon his face. The man opened his eyes, made an
effort to raise his head, and fell back again. The wound was in the top
of his skull and blood was flawing copiously.

Aramis dipped a cloth into some water and applied it to the gash. Again
the wounded man opened his eyes and looked in astonishment at these
strangers, who appeared to pity him.

"You are among friends," said Athos, in English; "so cheer up, and tell
us, if you have the strength to do so, what has happened?"

"The king," muttered the wounded man, "the king is a prisoner."

"You have seen him?" asked Aramis, in the same language.

The man made no reply.

"Make your mind easy," resumed Athos, "we are all faithful servants of
his majesty."

"Is what you tell me true?" asked the wounded man.

"On our honor as gentlemen."

"Then I may tell you all. I am brother to Parry, his majesty's lackey."

Athos and Aramis remembered that this was the name by which De Winter
had called the man they had found in the passage of the king's tent.

"We know him," said Athos, "he never left the king."

"Yes, that is he. Well, he thought of me, when he saw the king was
taken, and as they were passing before the house he begged in the king's
name that they would stop, as the king was hungry. They brought him into
this room and placed sentinels at the doors and windows. Parry knew this
room, as he had often been to see me when the king was at Newcastle. He
knew that there was a trap-door communicating with a cellar, from which
one could get into the orchard. He made a sign, which I understood, but
the king's guards must have noticed it and held themselves on guard. I
went out as if to fetch wood, passed through the subterranean passage
into the cellar, and whilst Parry was gently bolting the door, pushed up
the board and beckoned to the king to follow me. Alas! he would not. But
Parry clasped his hands and implored him, and at last he agreed. I went
on first, fortunately. The king was a few steps behind me, when suddenly
I saw something rise up in