Aramis understood the silence of the prisoner.
"Monsieur Biscarrat," said he, "you would be already dead if we had not regard for your youth and our ancient association with your father; but you may yet escape from the place by swearing that you will not tell your companions what you have seen." "I will not only swear that I will not speak of it," said Biscarrat, "but I still further swear that I will do everything in the world to prevent my companions from setting foot in the grotto." "Biscarrat! Biscarrat!" cried several voices from the outside, coming like a whirlwind into the cave.
"Reply," said Aramis.
"Here I am!" cried Biscarrat.
"Now, begone; we depend on your loyalty." And he left his hold of the young man, who hastily returned towards the light.
"Biscarrat! Biscarrat!" cried the voices, still nearer.

And the shadows of several human forms projected into the interior of the grotto.
Biscarrat rushed to meet his friends in order to stop them, and met them just as they were adventuring into the cave.

Aramis and Porthos listened with the intense attention of men whose life depends upon a breath of air.
"Oh! oh!" exclaimed one of the guards, as he came to the light, "how pale you are!" "Pale!" cried another; "you ought to say corpse-color." "I!" said the young man, endeavoring to collect his faculties.
"In the name of Heaven! what has happened ?" exclaimed all the voices.
"You have not a drop of blood in your veins, my poor friend," said one of them, laughing.
"Messieurs, it is serious," said another, "he is going to faint; does any one of you happen to have any salts ?" And they all laughed.
This hail of jests fell round Biscarrat's ears like musket-balls in a _melee_.

He recovered himself amidst a deluge of interrogations.
"What do you suppose I have seen ?" asked he.

"I was too hot when I entered the grotto, and I have been struck with a chill.