"And what became of the bullet which did not kill the horse?"
"It cut in two the feather of the hat belonging to him against whom it was directed, and broke a small birch at the other end of the open glade."
"In that case, then, the man on the black horse was disarmed, while his adversary had still one more shot to fire."
"Sire, while the dismounted rider was extricating himself from his horse, the other was reloading his pistol. Only, he was much agitated while he was loading it, and his hand trembled greatly."
"How do you know that?"
"Half the charge fell to the ground, and he threw the ramrod aside, not having time to replace it in the pistol."
"Monsieur d'Artagnan, it is marvelous what you tell me."
"It is only close observation, sire, and the commonest highwayman would do as much."
"The whole scene is before me from the manner in which you relate it."
"I have, in fact, reconstructed it in my own mind, with merely a few alterations."