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A Mousetrap in the Seventeenth Century

           "Theyarebindingher;theyaregoingtodragheraway,"criedd’Artagnantohimself,springingupfromthefloor."Mysword!Good,itisbymyside!Planchet!"

           "Monsieur."

           "RunandseekAthos,PorthosandAramis.Oneofthethreewillcertainlybeathome,perhapsallthree.Tellthemtotakearms,tocomehere,andtorun!Ah,Iremember,AthosisatMonsieurdeTreville’s."

           "Butwhereareyougoing,monsieur,whereareyougoing?"

           "Iamgoingdownbythewindow,inordertobetherethesooner,"criedd’Artagnan."Youputbacktheboards,sweepthefloor,gooutatthedoor,andrunasItoldyou."

           "Oh,monsieur!Monsieur!Youwillkillyourself,"criedPlanchet.

           "Holdyourtongue,stupidfellow,"saidd’Artagnan;andlayingholdofthecasement,helethimselfgentlydownfromthefirststory,whichfortunatelywasnotveryelevated,withoutdoinghimselftheslightestinjury.

           Hethenwentstraighttothedoorandknocked,murmuring,"Iwillgomyselfandbecaughtinthemousetrap,butwoebetothecatsthatshallpounceuponsuchamouse!"

           Theknockerhadscarcelysoundedunderthehandoftheyoungmanbeforethetumultceased,stepsapproached,thedoorwasopened,andd’Artagnan,swordinhand,rushedintotheroomsofM.Bonacieux,thedoorofwhichdoubtlessacteduponbyaspring,closedafterhim.

           ThenthosewhodweltinBonacieux’sunfortunatehouse,togetherwiththenearestneighbors,heardloudcries,stampingoffeet,clashingofswords,andbreakingoffurniture.

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