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The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 83 at Prostate Health
passing through the Porte Saint Denis, Athos looked at
Raouls way of riding and observed:
"Take care, Raoul! I have already often told you of this;
you must not forget it, for it is a great defect in a rider.
See! your horse is tired already, he froths at the mouth,
whilst mine looks as if he had only just left the stable.
You hold the bit too tight and so make his mouth hard, so
that you will not be able to make him manoeuvre quickly. The
safety of a cavalier often depends on the prompt obedience
of his horse. In a week, remember, you will no longer be
performing your manoeuvres for practice, but on a field of
battle."
Then suddenly, in order not to give too uncomfortable an
importance to this observation:
"See, Raoul!" he resumed; "what a fine plain for partridge
shooting."
The young man stored in his mind the admonition whilst he
admired the delicate tenderness with which it was bestowed.
"I have remarked also another thing," said Athos, "which is,
that in firing off your pistol you hold your arm too far
outstretched. This tension lessens the accuracy of the aim.
So in twelve times you thrice missed the mark."
"Which you, sir, struck twelve times," answered Raoul,
smiling.
"Because I bent my arm and rested my hand on my elbow -- so;
do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, sir. I have fired since in that manner and have been
quite successful."
"What a cold wind!" resumed Athos; "a wintry blast. Apropos,
if you fire -- and you will do so, for you are recommended
to a young general who is very fond of powder -- remember
that in single combat, which often takes place in the
cavalry, never to fire the first shot. He who fires the
first shot rarely hits his man, for he fires with the
apprehension of being disarmed, before an armed foe; then,
whilst he fires, make your horse rear; that manoeuvre has
saved my life several times."
"I shall do so, if only in gratitude ---- "
"Eh!" cried Athos, "are not those fellows poachers they have
arrested yonder? They are. Then another important thing,
Raoul: should you be wounded in a battle, and fall from your
horse, if you have any strength left, disentangle yourself
from the line that your regiment has formed; otherwise, it
may be driven back and you will be trampled to death by the
horses. At all events, should you be wounded, write to me
that very instant, or get some one at once to write to me.
We are judges of wounds, we old soldiers," Athos added,
smiling.
"Thank you, sir," answered the young man, much moved.
They arrived that very moment at the gate of the town,
guarded by two sentinels.
"Here comes a young gentleman," said one of them, "who seems
as if he were going to join the army."
"How do you make that out?" inquired Athos.
"By his manner, sir, and his age; hes the second to-day."
"Has a young man, such as I am, gone through this morning,
then?" asked Raoul.
"Faith, yes, with a haughty presence, a fine equipage; such
as the son of a noble house would have."
"He will be my companion on the journey, sir," cried Raoul.
"Alas! he cannot make me forget what I shall have lost!"
Thus talking, they traversed the streets, full of people on
account of the fete, and arrived opposite the old cathedral,
where first mass was going on.
"Let us alight; Raoul," said Athos. "Olivain, take care of
our horses and give me my sword."
The two gentlemen then went into the church. Athos gave
Raoul some of the holy water. A love as tender as that of a
lover for his mistress dwells, undoubtedly, in some paternal
hearts toward a son.
Athos said a word to one of the vergers, who bowed and
proceeded toward the basement.
"Come, Raoul," he said, "let us follow this man."
The verger opened the iron grating that guarded the royal
tombs and stood on the topmost step, whilst Athos and Raoul
descended. The sepulchral depths of the descent were dimly
lighted by a silver lamp on the lowest step; and just below
this lamp there was laid, wrapped in a flowing mantle of
violet velvet, worked with fleurs-de-lis of gold, a
catafalque resting on trestles of oak. The young man,
prepared for this scene by the state of his own feelings,
which were mournful, and by the majesty of the cathedral
which he had passed through, descended in a slow and solemn
manner and stood with head uncovered before these mortal
spoils of
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