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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 818/849
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Several
times
Lord
de
Winter
,
Porthos
,
or
Aramis
,
tried
to
talk
with
the
man
in
the
red
cloak
;
but
to
every
interrogation
which
they
put
to
him
he
bowed
,
without
response
.
The
travelers
then
comprehended
that
there
must
be
some
reason
why
the
unknown
preserved
such
a
silence
,
and
ceased
to
address
themselves
to
him
.
The
storm
increased
,
the
flashes
succeeded
one
another
more
rapidly
,
the
thunder
began
to
growl
,
and
the
wind
,
the
precursor
of
a
hurricane
,
whistled
in
the
plumes
and
the
hair
of
the
horsemen
.
The
cavalcade
trotted
on
more
sharply
.
A
little
before
they
came
to
Fromelles
the
storm
burst
.
They
spread
their
cloaks
.
There
remained
three
leagues
to
travel
,
and
they
did
it
amid
torrents
of
rain
.
D'Artagnan
took
off
his
hat
,
and
could
not
be
persuaded
to
make
use
of
his
cloak
.
He
found
pleasure
in
feeling
the
water
trickle
over
his
burning
brow
and
over
his
body
,
agitated
by
feverish
shudders
.
The
moment
the
little
troop
passed
Goskal
and
were
approaching
the
Port
,
a
man
sheltered
beneath
a
tree
detached
himself
from
the
trunk
with
which
he
had
been
confounded
in
the
darkness
,
and
advanced
into
the
middle
of
the
road
,
putting
his
finger
on
his
lips
.
Athos
recognized
Grimaud
.
"
What
's
the
manner
?
"
cried
Athos
.
"
Has
she
left
Armentieres
?
"
Grimaud
made
a
sign
in
the
affirmative
.
D'Artagnan
groaned
his
teeth
.
