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Rh THE MAK IN THE IRON MASK, 419 de Bragelonne was a well-disciplined officer, this disobedi- ence to the orders of monseigneur very much surprised everybody, and Monsieur de Beaufort redoubled his earnest- ness, crying, *Stop, Bragelonne! Where are you going? StopI* repeated monseigneur, *I command you !' raised our hands. We expected that the cavalier would turn bridle; but Monsieur de Bragelonne continued to ride toward the palisades. " 'Stop, Bragelonne!' repeated the prince, in a very loud voice; 'stop! in the name of your father!' "At these words Monsieur de Bragelonne turned round, his countenance expressed a lively grief, but he did not stop; we then concluded that his horse must have run away with him. When Monsieur le Duo had imagined the vicomte was not master of the horse, and had seen him pre- cede the first grenadiers, his highness cried, 'Musketeers, kill his horse! A hundred pistoles for him who shall kill his horse!' But who could expect to hit the beast v/ithout at least wounding his rider? No one durst venture. At length one presented himself; he was a sharpshooter of the regiment of Picardy, named Luzerne, who took aim at the animal, fired, and hit him in the quarters, for we saw the blood redden the hair of the horse. Instead of falling, the cursed jennet was irritated, and carried him on more furiously than ever. Every Picard who saw this unfor- tunate young man rushing on to meet death, shouted in the loudest manner, 'Throw yourself off. Monsieur le Vicomte! — off! — off! throw yourself off!' Monsieur de Bragelonne was an officer much beloved in the army. Already had the vicomte arrived within pistol-shot of the ramparts, a dis- charge was poured upon him, and enveloped him in its fire and smoke. We lost sight of him; the smoke dispersed; he was on foot, standing; his horse was killed. ''The vicomte was summoned to surrender by the Arabs, but he made them a negative sign with his head, and con- tinued to march toward the palisades. This was a mortal imprudence. Nevertheless, the whole army was pleased that he would not retreat, since ill-chance had led him so near. He marched a few paces further, and the two regi- ments clapped their hands. It was at this moment the second discharge shook the walls, and the Vicomte de Bragelonne again disappeared in the smoke; but this time the smoke was dispersed in vain; we no longer saw him standing. He was down, with his head lower than his legs.
 * We all, imitating the gesture of Monsieur le Due, we all