he placed his glass on the ground, in order that he might not spill its contents. "You have seen your wi-" "Hush, then!" interrupted Athos; "you forget, my dear fellow, that these gentlemen are not, like you, initiated in the privacies of my family affairs. I have seen her ladyship." "And where happened that?" demanded d'Artagnan. "About two leagues from hence, at the Red Dove-Cot " "In that case, I am a lost man," said d'Artagnan. "Not just yet," replied Athos; "for, by this time, she must have quitted the shores of France." D'Artagnan breathed again. "But after all," inquired Porthos, "who is this lady?" "A charming woman," said Athos, tasting a glass of sparkling wine. "Scamp of a landlord!" exclaimed he, "who gives us Anjou for champagne, and who thinks we shall be deceived by the subterfuge! Yes," continued he, "a charming woman, to whom our friend d'Artagnan has done something unpardonable, for which she is endeavoring to avenge herself a month ago, by trying to get him shot; a week ago, by sending him some poison; and yesterday, by demanding his head of the cardinal.” "What! demanding my head of the cardinal?" cried d'Artagnan, pale with terror. "Yes," said Porthos, "it is true as gospel; for I heard her with my own ears." "And I also," said Aramis. "Then," said d'Artagnan, letting his arm fall in a desponding manner," it is useless to struggle longer: I may as well blow out my brains at once, and have done with it.” "That is the last folly to be perpetrated," said Athos, "seeing it is the only one which will not admit of remedy." "But with such enemies, I shall never escape," said d'Artagnan. "First, my unknown antagonist of Meung; then, de Wardes, on whom I inflicted four wounds; next, this lady, whose secret I found out; and, lastly, the cardinal, whose revenge I defeated." "Well!" said Athos, "and all this makes only four, and we are four-one against one. Egad! if we may trust to Gri maud's signs, we are now about to engage with a far greates number of foes. What's the matter, Grimaud? Considering the seriousness of the circumstance, I permit you to speak, my friend; but be laconic, I beseech you. What do you see!" "A troop." "How many persons?" "Twenty men." "What sort of men?" "Sixteen pioneers and four soldiers." "How far are they off?" "Five hundred paces." "Good! We have still time to finish our fowl, and to drink a glass of wine. To your health, d'Artagnan." "Your health," repeated Aramis and Porthos. "Well, then, to my health; although I do not imagine that your good wishes will be of much benefit to me." "Bah!" said Athos, "God is great, as the Mahometans say, and the future is in his hands." Then, having swallowed his wine, and put the glass down, Athos carelessly arose, took the first musket which came to his hand and went towards an embrasure. The three others did the same. As for Grimaud, he had orders to place himself behind them and to reload their muskets. An instant afterwards, they saw the troop appearing. It came along a kind of branch trench, which formed a communication between the bastion and the town. "Zounds!" said Athos, "it is scarcely worth while to disturb ourselves for a score of fellows armed with pick-axes, mattocks and spades !-Grimaud ought to have quietly beckoned to them to go about their business, and I am quite convinced that they would have left us to ourselves." "I much doubt it," said d'Artagnan, "for they come forward with great resolution. Besides, in addition to the workmen, there are four soldiers and a brigadier, armed with muskets." "That is because they have not seen us," replied Athos. "Faith," said Aramis, "I confess that I am reluctant to fire upon these poor devils of citizens." "He is a bad priest," said Porthos, "who pities heretics." “Upon my word," said Athos "Aramis is right. I will give them a caution." "What the plague are you doing?" cried d'Artagnan; "you will get yourself shot, my dear fellow." But Athos paid no attention to this warning; and mounting on the breach, his fusee in one hand and his hat in the other: "Gentlemen," said he, bowing courteously, and addressing himself to the soldiers and pioneers who, astonished by this apparition, halted at about fifty paces from the bastion; "gentlemen, we are, some of my friends and myself, engaged at breakfast in this bastion. Now you know that nothing is more disagreeable than to be disturbed at breakfast; so we entreat of you, if you really have business here, to wait till we have finished our repast, or to come back in a little while; unless, indeed, you experience the salutary desire of forsaking the ranks of rebellion, and coming to drink with us to the health of the king of France." "Take care, Athos," said D'Artagnan; "don't you see that they are taking aim at you?" "Yes, yes," said Athos; "but these are citizens, who are shocking bad marksmen, and will take care not to hit me." In fact, at that moment four shots were fired, and the bullets whistled around Athos, but without one touching him. Four shots were instantaneously returned, but with a far better aim than that of the aggressors, three soldiers fell dead and one of the pioneers was wounded. THE PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL NEW YORK, N. Yo "Grimaud," said Athos, from the breach, "another musket." Grimaud obeyed immediately. The three friends had also reloaded their arms. A second discharge soon followed the first, and the brigadier and two pioneers fell dead. The rest of the troop took to flight. "Come, gentlemen, a sortie !" said Athos. The four friends rushed out of the fort; reached the field of battle, picked up the muskets of the soldiers, and the halfpike of the brigadier; and, satisfied that the fugitives would never stop till they reached the town, they returned to the bastion, bearing with them the trophies of their victory. "Reload the muskets, Grimaud," said Athos; "and let us, gentlemen, continue our breakfast and conversation. Where were we?" "I recollect," said d'Artagnan; "you were saying, that, after having demanded my head of the cardinal, her ladyship had left the shores of France. And where is she going?" added d'Artagnan, who was painfully anxious about the itinerary of the lady's journey. "She is going to England,” replied Athos. "And for what object?" "To assassinate the Duke of Buckingham, or to get him assassinated." D'Artagnan uttered an exclamation of surprise and indig nation. "It is infamous!" exclaimed he. "Oh, as to that," said Athos, "I beg you to believe that I concern myself very little about it. Now that you have finished, Grimaud," continued he, "take the half-pike of our brigadier, fasten a napkin to it, and fix it on the end of our bastion, that those rebellious Rochellois may see that they are opposed to brave and loyal subjects of the king." Grimaud obeyed without reply; and an instant afterwards the white flag floated over the heads of the four friends. A cry of joy, a thunder of applause saluted its appearance. Half the camp was at the barriers. HONORÉ DE BALZAC. BALZAC is regarded by French critics as not only the greatest novelist of France, but of the world. Taine pro nounced his works "the greatest storehouse of documents in human nature." But his style has been criticized as "the least simple, probably, that ever was written; it bristles, it cracks, it swells and swaggers;" it was the expression of a fertile, intense and vivid imagination. Owing to his cumbrous style Balzac was obliged to serve a hard apprenticeship, and his early dramas and stories have fallen into neglect. He did not show his real merit until he wrote "The Chouans " in 1830. Finally he conceived the stupendous idea of the "Comédie humaine" (the comedy of human life) and carried it into marvelous execution, though not completion. Honoré de Balzac was born in Touraine in 1799, and was thus three years older than Victor Hugo. His family wished him to study law and tried to starve him out of his literary ambition, but his sister Laura sustained his courage by her faith in his genius. He was always fond of speculation, and when his novels began to attract attention, he entered into a grand scheme of printing and publishing, which so loaded him with debt that his task of novel-writing became like the notorious one of Sir Walter Scott's declining years. But in that decade, 1830-40, Balzac, spurred on by necessity, produced most of his best works. His years of terrible toil were lightened by the hope of marriage with a Polish Countess Hanska. But the widow, out of deference to the proprieties, delayed their wedding fully sixteen years. At last the wornout novelist, then fifty-one, was married in March, 1850, and |