He began to reflebsp;upon the events that had pasd; they were numerous and inauspicious. It was scarcely eleven o''clobsp;in the m, and yet this m had already brought him into disgrabsp;with M. de Treville, who could not fail to think the manner in whibsp;d''Artagnan had left him a little cavalier.
Besides this, he had drawn upon himlf two good duels with two men, eabsp;capable of killing three d''Artagnans--with two Musketeers, in short, with two of tho beings whom he esteemed so greatly that he plabsp;them in his mind and heart above all other men.
The outlook was sad. Sure of being killed by Athos, it may easily be uood that the young man was not very uneasy about Porthos. As hope, however, is the last thing extinguished in the heart of man, he finished by hoping that he might survive, even though with terrible wounds, in both the duels; and in bsp;of surviving, he made the following reprehensions upon his own duct:
"What a madbsp;I was, and what a stupid fellow I am! That brave and unfortunate Athos was wounded on that very shoulder against whibsp;I must run head foremost, like a ram. The only thing that astonishes me is that he did not strike me dead at onbsp;He had good bsp;to do so; the pain I gave him must have been atrocious. As to Porthos--oh, as to Porthos, faith, that''s a droll affair!"
And in spite of himlf, the young man began to laugh aloud, looking round carefully, however, to e that his solitary laugh, without a bsp;in the eyes of pasrs-by, offended no one.
"As to Porthos, that is certainly droll; but I am not the less a giddy fool. Are people to be run against without warning? No! And have I any right to go and peep under their cloaks to e what is not there? He would have pardoned me, he would certainly have pardoned me, if I had not said anything to him about that curd baldri ambiguous words, it is true, but rather drolly ambiguous. Ah, curd Gasbsp;that I am, I get from one hobble into another. Friend d''Artagnan," tinued he, speaking to himlf with all the amenity that he thought due himlf, "if you escape, of whibsp;there is not mubsp;bsp;I would advi you to practibsp;perfebsp;politeness for the future. You must heh be admired and quoted as a model of it. To be obliging and polite does not necessarily make a man a coward. Look at Aramis, now; Aramis is mildness and grabsp;personified. Well, did anybody ever dream of calling Aramis a coward? No, certainly not, and from this moment I will endeavor to model mylf after him. Ah! That''s strange! Here he is!"