Chapter 46 - Page 2

“Speak,” said Aramis.

“Were you not, gentlemen, both in the Musketeers of the late King?”

“Yes, Monsieur, and of the best of them, if you please,” said Porthos.

“That is true; I should say even the best of all soldiers, Messieurs, if I did not fear to offend the memory of my father.”

“Of your father?” cried Aramis.

“Do you know what my name is?”

“Ma foi! no, Monsieur; but you can tell us, and-”

“I am called Georges de Biscarrat.”

“Oh!” cried Porthos, in his turn, “Biscarrat! Do you remember that name, Aramis?”

“Biscarrat!” reflected the bishop. “It seems to me-”

“Try to recollect, Monsieur,” said the officer.

“Pardieu! that won’t take me long,” said Porthos. “Biscarrat- called Cardinal- one of the four who interrupted us the day on which we formed our friendship with d’Artagnan, sword in hand.”

“Precisely, gentlemen.”

“The only one,” cried Aramis, eagerly, “we did not wound.”

“Consequently, a good blade,” said the prisoner.

“That’s true! very true!” exclaimed both the friends together. “Ma foi! M. Biscarrat, we are delighted to make the acquaintance of such a brave man’s son.”

Biscarrat pressed the hands held out to him by the two former musketeers. Aramis looked at Porthos as much as to say, “Here is a man who will help us,” and without delay, “Confess, Monsieur,” said he, “that it is good to have been a good man.”

“My father always said so, Monsieur.”

“Confess, likewise, that it is a sad circumstance in which you find yourself,- falling in with men destined to be shot or hung, and learning that these men are old acquaintances, old hereditary acquaintances.”

“Oh! you are not reserved for such a frightful fate as that, Messieurs and friends!” said the young man, warmly.

“Bah! you said so yourself.”

“I said so just now, when I did not know you; but now that I know you, I say you will avoid this dismal fate, if you like.”

“How,- if we like?” cried Aramis, whose eyes beamed with intelligence as he looked alternately at the prisoner and Porthos.

“Provided,” continued Porthos, looking in his turn with noble intrepidity at M. Biscarrat and the bishop,- “provided nothing disgraceful be required of us.”

“Nothing at all will be required of you, gentlemen,” replied the officer; “what should they ask of you? If they find