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The Wife of Athos

           BeyondthefortificationsthroughwhichAthoshadmadeabreachinordertogetout,andwhichwerecomposedoffagots,planks,andemptycasks,heapedupaccordingtoalltherulesofthestrategicart,theyfound,swimminginpuddlesofoilandwine,thebonesandfragmentsofallthehamstheyhadeaten;whileaheapofbrokenbottlesfilledthewholeleft-handcornerofthecellar,andatun,thecockofwhichwasleftrunning,wasyielding,bythismeans,thelastdropofitsblood."Theimageofdevastationanddeath,"astheancientpoetsays,"reignedasoverafieldofbattle."

           Offiftylargesausages,suspendedfromthejoists,scarcelytenremained.

           Thenthelamentationsofthehostandhostesspiercedthevaultofthecellar.D’Artagnanhimselfwasmovedbythem.Athosdidnoteventurnhishead.

           Togriefsucceededrage.Thehostarmedhimselfwithaspit,andrushedintothechamberoccupiedbythetwofriends.

           "Somewine!"saidAthos,onperceivingthehost.

           "Somewine!"criedthestupefiedhost,"somewine?Whyyouhavedrunkmorethanahundredpistoles’worth!Iamaruinedman,lost,destroyed!"

           "Bah,"saidAthos,"wewerealwaysdry."

           "Ifyouhadbeencontentedwithdrinking,wellandgood;butyouhavebrokenallthebottles."

           "Youpushedmeuponaheapwhichrolleddown.Thatwasyourfault."

           "Allmyoilislost!"

           "Oilisasovereignbalmforwounds;andmypoorGrimaudherewasobligedtodressthoseyouhadinflictedonhim."

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