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    Chapter 73

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    73. Fatality.

    Scarcely had D'Artagnan uttered these words when a ringing and sudden noise was heard resounding through the felucca, which had now become dim in the obscurity of the night.

    "That, you may be sure," said the Gascon, "means something."

    They then at the same instant perceived a large lantern carried on a pole appear on the deck, defining the forms of shadows behind it.

    Suddenly a terrible cry, a cry of despair, was wafted through space; and as if the shrieks of anguish had driven away the clouds, the veil which hid the moon was cleated away and the gray sails and dark shrouds of the felucca were plainly visible beneath the silvery light.

    Shadows ran, as if bewildered, to and fro on the vessel, and mournful cries accompanied these delirious walkers. In the midst of these screams they saw Mordaunt upon the poop with a torch in hand.

    The agitated figures, apparently wild with terror, consisted of Groslow, who at the hour fixed by Mordaunt had collected his men and the sailors. Mordaunt, after having listened at the door of the cabin to hear if the musketeers were still asleep, had gone down into the cellar, convinced by their silence that they were all in a deep slumber. Then he had run to the train, impetuous as a man who is excited by revenge, and full of confidence, as are those whom God blinds, he had set fire to the wick of nitre.

    All this while Groslow and his men were assembled on deck.

    "Haul up the cable and draw the boat to us," said Groslow.

    One of the sailors got down the side of the ship, seized the cable, and drew it; it came without the least resistance.

    "The cable is cut!" he cried, "no boat!"

    "How! no boat!" exclaimed Groslow; "it is impossible."

    "'Tis true, however," answered the sailor; "there's nothing in the wake of the ship; besides, here's the end of the cable."

    "What's the matter?" cried Mordaunt, who, coming up out of the hatchway, rushed to the stern, waving his torch.

    "Only that our enemies have escaped; they have cut the cord and gone off with the boat."

    Mordaunt bounded with one step to the cabin and kicked open the door.

    "Empty!" he exclaimed; "the infernal demons!"


    "We must pursue them," said Groslow, "they can't be gone far, and we will sink them, passing over them."

    "Yes, but the fire," ejaculated Mordaunt; "I have lighted it."

    "Ten thousand devils!" cried Groslow, rushing to the hatchway; "perhaps there is still time to save us."

    Mordaunt answered only by a terrible laugh, threw his torch into the sea and plunged in after it. The instant Groslow put his foot upon the hatchway steps the ship opened like the crater of a volcano. A burst of flame rose toward the skies with an explosion like that of a hundred cannon; the air burned, ignited by flaming embers, then the frightful lightning
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