Porthos rubbed his hands. “That is my opinion,” said he.
“But who the devil has fortified this paltry little place in this manner?”
Porthos drew himself up proudly: “Did not I tell you who?”
“No.”
“Do you not suspect?”
“No; all I can say is that he is a man who has studied all the systems, and who appears to me to have stopped at the best.”
“Hush!” said Porthos; “consider my modesty, my dear D’Artagnan.”
“In truth,” replied the musketeer, “can it be you—who—oh!”
“Pray—my dear friend——”
“You who have imagined, traced, and combined between these bastions, these redans, these curtains, these half-moons; and are preparing that covered way?”