“Yes, sir. I have fired since in that manner and have been quite successful.”
“What a cold wind!” resumed Athos; “a wintry blast. Apropos, if you fire—and you will do so, for you are recommended to a young general who is very fond of powder—remember that in single combat, which often takes place in the cavalry, never to fire the first shot. He who fires the first shot rarely hits his man, for he fires with the apprehension of being disarmed, before an armed foe; then, whilst he fires, make your horse rear; that manoeuvre has saved my life several times.”
“I shall do so, if only in gratitude——”
“Eh!” cried Athos, “are not those fellows poachers they have arrested yonder? They are. Then another important thing, Raoul: should you be wounded in a battle, and fall from your horse, if you have any strength left, disentangle yourself from the line that your regiment has formed; otherwise, it may be driven back and you will be trampled to death by the horses. At all events, should you be wounded, write to me that very instant, or get some one at once to write to me. We are judges of wounds, we old soldiers,” Athos added, smiling.
“Thank you, sir,” answered the young man, much moved.
They arrived that very moment at the gate of the town, guarded by two sentinels.
“Here comes a young gentleman,” said one of them, “who seems as if he were going to join the army.”
“How do you make that out?” inquired Athos.
“By his manner, sir, and his age; he’s the second to-day.”
“Has a young man, such as I am, gone through this morning, then?” asked Raoul.