"I am perfectly satisfied we are lost, but we have, at least, one chance left.

If the guards who follow their hounds happen to discover there is an issue to the grotto, there is no help for us, for on entering they must see both ourselves and our boat.
The dogs must not go out of the cavern.

Their masters must not enter." "That is clear," said Porthos.
"You understand," added Aramis, with the rapid precision of command; "there are six dogs that will be forced to stop at the great stone under which the fox has glided--but at the too narrow opening of which they must be themselves stopped and killed." The Bretons sprang forward, knife in hand.

In a few minutes there was a lamentable concert of angry barks and mortal howls--and then, silence.
"That's well!" said Aramis, coolly, "now for the masters!" "What is to be done with them ?" said Porthos.
"Wait their arrival, conceal ourselves, and kill them." "_Kill them!_" replied Porthos.
"There are sixteen," said Aramis, "at least, at present." "And well armed," added Porthos, with a smile of consolation.
"It will last about ten minutes," said Aramis.

"To work!" And with a resolute air he took up a musket, and placed a hunting-knife between his teeth.
"Yves, Goenne, and his son," continued Aramis, "will pass the muskets to us.