CHAPTER LXX.

A LITTLE TALK. Mordaunt had been taken so completely by surprise, and had mounted the stairs in such a state of confusion, that his powers of reflection were not under his control. But when once seated, from the moment he saw a reprieve was accorded him, he concentrated all his ideas and rallied all his faculties. His eye wandered to a long stout sword on his flank, and he instinctively slipped it round within reach of his right hand. D'Artagnan was waiting for a reply to his remark, and said nothing. Aramis mutter…