“Then wait,” said Aramis; and with the terrible coolness which on important occasions he showed, he took one of the muskets from Tony, shouldered and aimed it at the young man, who stood, like the accusing angel, upon the rock.
“Fire!” cried Grimaud, unconsciously.
Athos threw himself on the muzzle of the gun and arrested the shot which was about to be fired.
“The devil take you,” said Aramis. “I had him so well at the point of my gun I should have sent a ball into his breast.”
“It is enough to have killed the mother,” said Athos, hoarsely.
“The mother was a wretch, who struck at us all and at those dear to us.”
“Yes, but the son has done us no harm.”
Grimaud, who had risen to watch the effect of the shot, fell back hopeless, wringing his hands.
The young man burst into a laugh.
“Ah, it is certainly you!” he cried. “I know you even better now.”