whether his
pallor arose from anger or fear; seeing which, the sailor concluded
it was from fear, and raised his fist with the manifest intention of
letting it fall upon the head of the stranger. But though the threatened
man did not appear to move, he dealt the sailor such a severe blow in
the stomach that he sent him rolling and howling to the other side of
the room. At the same instant, rallied by the _espirit de corps_, all
the comrades of the conquered man fell upon the conqueror.

The latter, with the same coolness of which he had given proof, without
committing the imprudence of touching his weapons, took up a beer-pot
with a pewter-lid, and knocked down two or three of his assailants;
then, as he was about to yield to numbers, the seven other silent men at
the tables, who had not yet stirred, perceived that their cause was at
stake, and came to the rescue. At the same time, the two indifferent
spectators at the door turned round with frowning bows, indicating their
evident intention of taking the enemy in the rear, if the enemy did not
cease their aggressions.

The host, his helpers, and two watchmen who were passing, and who from
the curiosity had penetrated too far into the room, were mixed up in the
tumult and showered with blows. The Parisians hit like Cyclops, with an
_ensemble_ and a tactic delightful to behold. At length, obliged to beat
a retreat before superior numbers, they formed an intrenchment behind
the large table, which they raised by main force; whilst the two
others, arming themselves each with a trestle, and using it like a great
sledge-hammer, knocked down at a blow eight sailors upon whose heads
they had brought their monstrous catapult in play. The floor was already
strewn with wounded, and the room filled with cries and dust, when
D'Artagnan, satisfied with the test, advanced, sword in hand, and
striking with the pommel every head that came in his way, he uttered a
vigorous _hola!_ which put an instantaneous end to the conflict. A great
back-flood directly took place from the center to the sides of the room,
so that D'Artagnan found himself isolated and dominator.

"What is this all about?" then demanded he of the assembly, with the
majestic tone of Neptune pronouncing the _Quos ego_.

At the very instant, at the first sound of his voice, to carry on
the Virgilian metaphor, D'Artagnan's recruits, recognizing each his
sovereign lord, discontinued their plank-fighting and trestle blows. O