with rage at that endless parliamentary insult and that long enduring royal patience; the inflexible arm and steadfast heart had given place to a trembling hand and a body shaken by excitement.
At this moment the accuser concluded with these words: “The present accusation is preferred by us in the name of the English people.”
At these words there was a murmur along the benches, and a second voice, not that of a woman, but a man’s, stout and furious, thundered behind D’Artagnan.
“You lie!” it cried. “Nine-tenths of the English people are horrified at what you say.”
This voice was that of Athos, who, standing up with outstretched hand and quite out of his mind, thus assailed the public accuser.