from the midst of which war seemed ready to break forth,
bristling with knives and hatchets. The play, nevertheless,
was continued. A stone bench was occupied by two men, who
appeared thence to watch the door; four tables, placed at
the back of the common chamber, were occupied by eight other
individuals. Neither the men at the door, nor those at the
tables, took any part in the play or the quarrel. D'Artagnan
recognized his ten men in these cold, indifferent
spectators. The quarrel went on increasing. Every passion
has, like the sea, its tide which ascends and descends.
Reaching the climax of passion, one sailor overturned the
table and the money which was upon it. The table fell, and
the money rolled about. In an instant all belonging to the
hostelry threw themselves upon the stakes, and many a piece
of silver was picked up by people who stole away whilst the
sailors were scuffling with each other.

The two men on the bench and the eight at the tables,
although they seemed perfect strangers to each other, these
ten men alone, we say, appeared to have agreed to remain
impassible amidst the cries of fury and the chinking of
money. Two only contented themselves with pushing with their
feet combatants who came under their table. Two others,
rather than take part in this disturbance, buried their
hands in their pockets; and another two jumped upon the
table they occupied, as people do to avoid being submerged
by overflowing water.

"Come, come," said D'Artagnan to himself, not having lost
one of the details we have related, "this is a very fair