Athos, who still suffered grievously from his wound, though it had been dressed anew by M. de Treville’s surgeon, was seated on a post and waiting for his adversary with hat in hand, his feather even touching the ground.
Athos, que seguía sufriendo cruelmente por su herida, aunque hubiera sido vendada a las nueve por el cirujano del señor de Tréville, estaba sentado sobre un mojón y esperaba a su adversario con aquella compostura apacible y aquel aire digno que no le abandonaban nunca.