Mordaunt, “come to me! come to me!”
D’Artagnan began to be touched. The boat at this moment turned around, and the dying man was by that turn brought nearer Athos.
“Monsieur the Comte de la Fere,” he cried, “I supplicate you! pity me! I call on you — where are you? I see you no longer — I am dying — help me! help me!”
“Here I am, sir!” said Athos, leaning and stretching out his arm to Mordaunt with that air of dignity and nobility of soul habitual to him; “here I am, take my hand and jump into our boat.”
Mordaunt made a last effort — rose — seized the hand thus extended to him and grasped it with the vehemence of despair.