recognized D’Artagnan, for he became deadly pale; doubtless the musketeer knew him, for his hair stood up on his head.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” he cried, falling back a step; “it is Monsieur d’Artagnan! let him pass.”
D’Artagnan was perhaps about to reply, when a blow, similar to that of a mallet falling on the head of an ox, was heard.
The noise was caused by Porthos, who had just knocked down his man.
D’Artagnan turned around and saw the unfortunate man upon his back about four paces off.
“‘Sdeath!” cried he to the coachman. “Spur your horses! whip! get on!”