wish to be enlightened on the subject.”
“Because these prisoners, sir, are at my disposal and I choose to dispose of them as I like.”
“Allow me — allow me, sir,” said D’Artagnan, “to observe you are in error. The prisoners belong to those who take them and not to those who only saw them taken. You might have taken Lord Winter — who, ‘tis said, was your uncle — prisoner, but you preferred killing him; ‘tis well; we, that is, Monsieur du Vallon and I, could have killed our prisoners — we preferred taking them.”
Mordaunt’s very lips grew white with rage.
D’Artagnan now saw that affairs were growing worse and he beat