How Mousqueton, after being very nearly roasted, had a Narrow Escape of being eaten.
A deep silence reigned for a long time in the boat after the fearful scene described.
The moon, which had shone for a short time, disappeared behind the clouds; every object was again plunged in the obscurity that is so awful in the deserts and still more so in that liquid desert, the ocean, and nothing was heard save the whistling of the west wind driving along the tops of the crested billows.
Porthos was the first to speak.
“I have seen,” he said, “many dreadful things, but nothing that ever agitated me so much as what I have just witnessed. Nevertheless, even in my present state of perturbation, I protest