they have not determined minds so just as yours.”
“Besides,” said Aramis, “had they taken effect it would be still better not to compromise two excellent friends like D’Artagnan and Porthos.
Be assured, gentlemen, we shall do you honor in our dying. As for myself, I shall be proud to face the bullets, or even the rope, in company with you, Athos; for you have never seemed to me so grand as you are to-day.”
D’Artagnan said nothing, but, after having gnawed the flower stalk, he began to bite his nails. At last:
“Do you imagine,” he resumed, “that they mean to kill you? And wherefore should they do so? What interest have they in your death? Moreover, you are our prisoners.”