The soldiers, whom he was nearly trampling, ran away.
“Help! help!” cried D’Artagnan; “stop—my horse has the staggers.”
In an instant the horse’s eyes grew bloodshot and he was white with foam.
“Help!” cried D’Artagnan. “What! will you let me be killed? Jesus Seigneur!”
No sooner had he uttered this cry than the door opened and Athos and Aramis rushed out. The coast, owing to the Gascon’s stratagem, was clear.
“The prisoners are escaping! the prisoners are escaping!” cried the sergeant.
“Stop! stop!” cried D’Artagnan, giving rein to his famous steed, who, darting forth, overturned several men.
“Stop! stop!” cried the soldiers, and ran for their arms.
But the prisoners were in their saddles and lost no time hastening to the nearest gate.
In the middle of the street they saw Grimaud and Blaisois, who were coming to find their masters. With one wave of his hand Athos made Grimaud, who followed the little troop, understand everything, and they passed on like a whirlwind, D’Artagnan still directing them from behind with his voice.