Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas Chapter 51 Page 34

said Porthos, holding out his hand, which D’Artagnan took and shook in his.

“Oh!” cried Porthos, as if in pain.

D’Artagnan looked with surprise at his friend.

“What is the matter, then?” he asked.

“I think I have sprained my wrist,’ said Porthos.

“The devil! why, you strike like a blind or a deaf man.”

“It was necessary; my man was going to fire a pistol at me; but you — how did you get rid of yours?”

“Oh, mine,” replied D’Artagnan, “was not a man.”

“What was it then?”