At this moment the door of the guardhouse was opened and one of the soldiers was summoned away.
“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “I am going to call this soldier and talk to him. Don’t lose a word of what I’m going to say to you, Porthos. Everything lies in the execution.”
“Good, the execution of plots is my forte.”
“I know it well. I depend on you. Look, I shall turn to the left, so that the soldier will be at your right, as soon as he mounts on the bench to talk to us.”
“But supposing he doesn’t mount?”
“He will; rely upon it. As soon as you see him get up, stretch out your arm and seize him by the neck. Then, raising him up as Tobit raised the fish by the gills, you must pull him into the room, taking care to squeeze him so tight that he can’t cry out.”
“Oh!” said Porthos. “Suppose I happen to strangle him?”
“To be sure there would only be a Swiss the less in the world; but you will not do so, I hope. Lay him down here; we’ll gag him and tie him—no matter where—somewhere. So we shall get from him one uniform and a sword.”
“Marvelous!” exclaimed Porthos, looking at the Gascon with the most profound admiration.
“Pooh!” replied D’Artagnan.