But it was too late. The two combatants had been seen in a position which left no doubt of their intentions.“Halloo！” cried Jussac， advancing towards them， and making a sign to his men to do the same—“halloo， musketeers！ fighting here， then， are you？ And the edicts—what has become of them？”
“You are very generous， gentlemen of the guards，” said Athos with acrimony， for Jussac was one of the aggressors of the preceding day. “If we were to see you fighting， I can assure you that we would make no effort to prevent you. Leave us alone， then， and you will enjoy a little amusement without cost to yourselves.”
“Gentlemen，” said Jussac， “I greatly regret to declare the thing impossible. Duty before everything. Sheathe， then， if you please， and follow us.”
“Sir，” said Aramis， parodying Jussac， “it would afford us great pleasure to obey your polite invitation if it depended upon ourselves； but unfortunately the thing is impossible： M. de Tréville has forbidden it. Pass on your way， then； it is the best thing you can do.”
This raillery exasperated Jussac.
“We will charge upon you， then，” said he， “if you disobey.”
“There are five of them，” said Athos， half aloud， “and we are but three. We shall be beaten again， and must die on the spot； for， I swear it， I will never appear before the captain again as a conquered man.”
Athos， Porthos， and Aramis instantly closed in， and Jussac drew up his soldiers.
This short interval was sufficient to determine D’Artagnan. It was one of those events which decide the life of a man. It was a choice between the king and the cardinal. The choice made， it must be persisted in. To fight was to disobey the law， to risk his head， to make at once an enemy of a minister more powerful than the king himself； all this the young man perceived， and yet， to his praise be it said， he did not hesitate a second. Turning towards Athos and his friends，“Gentlemen，” said he， “allow me to correct your words， if you please. You said you were but three， but it appears to me we are four.”
“But you are not one of us，” said Porthos.
“That’s true，” replied D’Artagnan； “I do not wear the uniform， but I am with you in spirit. My heart is that of a musketeer. I feel it， sir， and that urges me on.”
“Withdraw， young man，” cried Jussac， who， doubtless by his gestures and the expression of his countenance， had guessed D’Artagnan’s design. “You may retire； we allow you to do so. Save your skin； begone quickly.”
D’Artagnan did not move.
“Well， you are a real good fellow，” said Athos， pressing the young man’s hand.
“Come， come， decide one way or the other，” replied Jussac.
“Well，” said Porthos to Aramis， “we must do something.”
“You are very generous，” said Athos.But all three were thinking of the youthfulness of D’Artagnan， and dreaded his inexperience.
“We would be only three， one of whom is wounded， with the addition of a boy，” resumed Athos， “and yet they will say none the less that we were four men.”
“Yes， but to yield！” said Porthos.
“That’s rather difficult，” replied Athos.
D’Artagnan understood their hesitancy.
“Try me， gentlemen，” said he， “and I swear to you by my honour that I will not go hence if we are conquered.”
“What is your name， my brave fellow？” said Athos.
“D’Artagnan， sir.”
“Well， then， Athos， Porthos， Aramis， and D’Artagnan， forward！” cried Athos.
“Come， gentlemen， have you made your minds up？” cried Jussac for the third time.
“It is done， gentlemen，” said Athos.
“And what do you mean to do？” asked Jussac.
“We are about to have the honour of charging you，” replied Aramis， lifting his hat with one hand and drawing his sword with the other.
“Oh！ you resist， do you？” cried Jussac.
“’Sblood！ does that astonish you？”
And the nine combatants rushed at one another with a madness which， however， did not exclude a certain amount of method.
Athos fixed upon Cahusac， a favourite of the cardinal’s， Porthos had Bicarat， and Aramis found himself opposed to two adversaries. As to D’Artagnan， he sprang towards Jussac himself.
The heart of the young Gascon beat as though it would burst its fetters—not from fear， God be thanked (he had not the shade of it)， but with emulation. He fought like a mad tiger， turning ten times round his adversary， and changing his ground and his guard twenty times. Jussac was， as they said then， fond of the sword， and had had much practice； nevertheless it required all his skill to defend himself against an adversary who， active and energetic， departed every instant from received rules， attacking him on all sides at once， and yet parrying like a man who had the greatest respect for his own epidermis.
