D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 144: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

t The Phantom Bell. 133 the Duke of Villa-real, Lord Mendoza, the brothers Mello, the brave De Saa—some remained, some he com- pelled to go into Portugal, since it was madness to fave all sacrificed. Spite of lures, then, he would be on the Amor de Dois, a swift corvette. The captain was his protégé, the subalterns, this pensioners. Moreover, thinking of everything, the crews were paid to obey their captain in the teeth of his superiors, or die under the fire of all the fleet concentrated.” “Well arranged,” said the Frenchman, studiously. “But the trainer is still rash who thrusts his head into the lion’s mouth!” “The wolf's, sir! That feeble Philip a lion?” scoffed the duchess. “He is not another Second Philip!” “He is Philip fourth-rate!’’ added Donna Jacinta, as sneeringly. Darkness had come on, while Richelieu’s envoy was cogitating over the duke’s separation from his wife, which Doded no good to the great undertaking. Every- thing seemed so cruelly contrary in this affair. The servants had returned from their errand, not hav- ing hurried, divining that their mistress wished her dis- course with the strange gentleman not overheard. They reported, when questioned by Donna Jacinta, that the sailors, leaving the French gentleman to accompany them to the inn, had hhastened along the beach, as they had come, to succor their companions. They were sure to meet them before complete nightfall. Besides, the un- dercliff caught and held the sunset light and would longer remain undarkened. Behind them, leisurely, M. du Vallon strode up the sl]; Alas! who could have recognized the magnificent Porthos, glory of the Three Companies of King’s Mus- keteers, black, red and gray? Absent the gloss—truly, in, a pickle! The brine had taken all the curl out of his hat plumes; all the twirl out of his mustaches, of which the points drooped instead of bristling upward, as Phil- ip’s in the Velasquez portraits; he trembled with slow fire at not ‘having been able to repair his toilet before introduction to the eminent lady. “Madame,” said ‘his comrade, when the giant life- CORNICE OOOKS (C(O)