But all three reflected upon the youth of d’Artagnan, and dreaded his inexperience.
“We should only be three, one of whom is wounded, with the addition of a boy,” resumed Athos; “and yet it will not be the less said we were four men.”
“Yes, but to yield!” said Porthos.
“That is difficult,” replied Athos.
D’Artagnan comprehended their irresolution.
“Try me, gentlemen,” said he, “and I swear to you by my honor that I will not go hence if we are conquered.”
“What is your name, my brave fellow?” said Athos.
“D’Artagnan, Monsieur.”
“Well, then, Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d’Artagnan, forward!” cried Athos.
“Come, gentlemen, have you decided?” cried Jussac for the third time.
“It is done, gentlemen,” said Athos.
“And what is your choice?” asked Jussac.
“We are about to have the honor of charging you,” replied Aramis, lifting his hat with one hand and drawing his sword with the other.
“Ah! You resist, do you?” cried Jussac.
“S’blood; does that astonish you?”