Athos, who still suffered grievously from his wound, though it
had been dressed anew by M. de Treville's surgeon, was seated on
a post and waiting for his adversary with hat in hand, his
feather even touching the ground.

"Monsieur," said Athos, "I have engaged two of my friends as
seconds; but these two friends are not yet come, at which I am
astonished, as it is not at all their custom."

"I have no seconds on my part, monsieur," said d'Artagnan; "for
having only arrived yesterday in Paris, I as yet know no one but
Monsieur de Treville, to whom I was recommended by my father, who
has the honor to be, in some degree, one of his friends."

Athos reflected for an instant. "You know no one but Monsieur de
Treville?" he asked.

"Yes, monsieur, I know only him."

"Well, but then," continued Athos, speaking half to himself, "if
I kill you, I shall have the air of a boy-slayer."

"Not too much so," replied d'Artagnan, with a bow that was not
deficient in dignity, "since you do me the honor to draw a sword
with me while suffering from a wound which is very inconvenient."

"Very inconvenient, upon my word; and you hurt me devilishly, I
can tell you. But I will take the left hand--it is my custom in
such circumstances. Do not fancy that I do you a favor; I use
either hand easily. And it will be even a disadvantage to you; a