“Mordaunt!” muttered the four friends, exchanging glances.
D’Artagnan swept up the money that he and Porthos had lost and buried it in his huge pocket. Athos and Aramis placed themselves behind him.
At this movement Mordaunt turned around, recognized them, and uttered an exclamation of savage delight.
“I’m afraid we are prisoners,” whispered D’Artagnan to his friend.
“Not yet,” replied Porthos.
“Colonel, colonel,” cried Mordaunt, “you are betrayed. These four Frenchmen have escaped from Newcastle, and no doubt want to carry off the king. Arrest them.”
“Ah! my young man,”