"It is a wound that confines him to his bed?"
"Ah, and a master stroke, too, I assure you. Your friend's soul must stick tight to his body."
"Were you there, then?"
"Monsieur, I followed them from curiosity, so that I saw the combat without the combatants seeing me."
"And what took place?"
"Oh! The affair was not long, I assure you. They placed themselves on guard; the stranger made a feint and a lunge, and that so rapidly that when Monsieur Porthos came to the PARADE, he had already three inches of steel in his breast. He immediately fell backward. The stranger placed the point of his sword at his throat; and Monsieur Porthos, finding himself at the mercy of his adversary, acknowledged himself conquered. Upon which the stranger asked his name, and learning that it was Porthos, and not d'Artagnan, he assisted him to rise, brought him back to the hotel, mounted his horse, and disappeared."