 Chapter 85 of the D'Artagnan Romance is Volume 3 part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. THE TENSE The admiral, as we have seen, was determined to pay no further attention to Buckingham's threatening glances and fits of passion. In fact, from the moment they quitted England he had gradually accustomed himself to his behaviour. D'Geish had not yet in any way remarked the animosity which appeared to influence that young nobleman against him, but he felt instinctively that there could be no sympathy between himself and the favourite of Charles II. The Queen Mother, with greater experience and calmer judgement, perceived the exact position of affairs, and as she discerned its danger, was prepared to meet it whenever the proper moment should arrive. Quiet had then everywhere restored, except in Buckingham's heart. He, in his impatience, addressed himself to the princess in a low tone of voice. For heaven's sake, madame, I implore you to hasten your disembarkation. You do not perceive how that insolent duke of Norfolk is killing me with his attentions and devotions to you. Henrietta heard this remark. She smiled and without turning her head toward him, but giving only to the tone of her voice that inflection of gentle reproach and languid impertinence, which women and princesses so well know how to assume, she murmured, I have already hinted, my lord, that you must have taken leave of your senses. Not a single detail escaped Raul's attention. He heard both Buckingham's entreaty and the princess's reply. He remarked Buckingham retire, heard his deep sigh, and saw him pass his hand across his face. He understood everything and trembled as he reflected on the position of affairs and the state of the mind of those about him. At last the admiral, who hath studied delay, gave the last orders for the departure of the boats. Buckingham heard the directions given with such an exhibition of the light that a stranger would really imagine the young man's reason was affected. As the duke of Norfolk gave his commands, a large bode or barge decked with flags and capable of holding about twenty rowers and fifteen passengers was slowly lowered from the side of the admiral's vessel. The barge was carpeted with velvet and decorated with coverings embroidered with the arms of England and with garlands of flowers. For at that time ornamentation was by no means forgotten in these political pageants. No sooner was this really royal boat afloat and the rowers with oars uplifted, awaiting like soldiers presenting arms, the embarkation of the princess, than Buckingham ran forward to the latter in order to take his place. His progress was, however, arrested by the queen. My lord! she said, it is hardly becoming that you should allow my daughter and myself to land without having previously ascertained that our apartments are properly prepared. I beg your lordship to be good enough to proceed us ashore and to give directions that everything be in proper order on our arrival. This was a fresh disappointment for the duke, and still more so since it was so unexpected. He hesitated, coloured violently, but could not reply. He thought he might be able to keep near madame during the passage to the shore, and by this means to enjoy to the very last moment the brief period fortune still reserved for him. The order, however, was explicit, and the admiral who heard it given immediately called out, launch the ship's gig! His directions were executed with that celerity which distinguishes every manoeuvre on board a man of war. Buckingham in utter hopelessness cast the look of despair at the princess, of supplication toward the queen, and directed a glance full of anger toward the admiral. The princess pretended not to notice him while the queen turned aside her head, and the admiral laughed outright at the sound of which Buckingham seemed ready to spring upon him. The queen mother rose and with a tone of authority said, Pray set off, sir. The young duke hesitated, looked around him, and with a last effort, half choked by contending emotion, said, And you gentlemen, Mr. de Geetje, Mr. de Bragalon, do you not accompany me? De Geetje bowed and said, Both Mr. de Bragalon and myself await her Majesty's orders. Whatever the command she imposes on us, we shall obey them. Saying this, he looked toward the princess who cast down her eyes. Your grace will remember, said the queen, That Mr. de Geetje is here to represent Monsieur. It is he who will do the honours of France as you have done those of England. His presence cannot be dispensed with, besides, we owe him this slight favour for the courage he displayed in venturing to seek us in such a terrible stress of weather. Buckingham opened his lips as if he were about to speak, but weather thoughts or expressions failed him, not a syllable escaped them, and turning away as though out of his mind he leapt from the vessel into the boat, the sailors were just in time to catch hold of him to steady themselves, for his weight and the rebound had almost upset the boat. His grace cannot be in his senses, said the admiral, allowed to Raoul. I am uneasy on the duke's account, replied Bragalon. While the boat was advancing toward the shore, the duke kept his eyes immovably fixed upon the admiral's ship, like a miser torn away from his coffers, or a mother separated from her child about to be led away to death. No one, however, acknowledged his signals, his frowns, or his pitiful gestures. In very anguish of mind he sank down in the boat, burying his hands in his hair, whilst the boat, impelled by the exertions of the merry sailors, flew over the waves. On his arrival he was in such a state of apathy, that had he not been received at the harbor by the messenger whom he had directed to proceed him, he would hardly have had the strength to ask his way. Having once however reached the house, which had been set apart for him, he shut himself up like a Achilles in his tent. Le Barge, bearing the princesses, quitted the admiral's vessel at the very moment bucking him landed. It was followed by another boat filled with officers, courtiers, and zealous friends. Great numbers of the inhabitants of Haver, having embarked in fishing cobbles and boats of every description, set off to meet the royal barge. The cannons from the forts fired salutes, which were returned by the flagship and the two other vessels. And the flashes from the open mouths of the cannon floated in white fumes over the waves and disappeared in the clear blue sky. The princess landed at the decorated quay. Bands of gay music greeted her arrival and accompanied her every step she took. During the time she was passing through the centre of the town and treading beneath her delicate feet the richest carpets and the gayest flowers, which had been strewn upon the ground, Dagish and Rahul, escaping from their English friends, hurried through the town and hastened rapidly toward the place intended for the residence of Madame. Let us hurry forward, said Rahul to Dagish, for if I read bucking him's character a right, he will create some disturbance when he learns the result of our deliberations of yesterday. Never fair, said Dagish, and the ward is there, who is determination itself, while Manicamp is the very personification of artless gentleness. Dagish was not, however, the less diligent on that account, and five minutes afterwards they were within sight of the Hotel de Ville, the first thing which struck them was the number of people assembled in the square. Excellent, said Dagish, our apartments I see are prepared. In fact, in front of the Hotel de Ville, upon the wide open space before it, eight tents had been raised, surmounted by the flags of France and England united. The hotel was surrounded by tents as if by a girdle of variegated colours, ten pages and a dozen mounted troopers, who had been given to the ambassadors for an escort mounted guard before the tents. It had a singularly curious effect, almost fairy-like in its appearance. These tents had been constructed during the night fitted up within and without with the richest materials that Dagish had been able to procure in Haver. They completely encircled the Hotel de Ville. The only passage which led to the steps of the hotel and which was not enclosed by the silken barricade was guarded by two tents resembling two pavilions, the doorways of both of which opened toward the entrance. These two tents were destined for Dagish and Raoul, in whose absence they were intended to be occupied, that of Dagish by de Ward and that of Raoul by Manicamp. Surrounding these two tents and the six others, a hundred officers, gentlemen in pages, dazzling in their display of silk and gold, thronged like bees, buzzing about a hive, every one of them, their swords by their sides, was ready to obey the slightest sign, either of Dagish or Brachalon, the leaders of the Embassy. At the very moment the two young men appeared at the end of one of the streets, leading to the square, they perceived crossing the square at full gallop by young men on horseback, whose costume was of surprising richness. He pushed hastily through the crowd of curious lookers on, and at the sight of these unexpected erections uttered a cry of anger and dismay. It was Buckingham, who had awakened from his stupor in order to adorn himself with the costume perfectly dazzling from its beauty, and to await the arrival of the princess and the queen mother at the Hotel de Ville. At the entrance to the tents the soldiers barred his passage, and his further progress was arrested. Buckingham, hopelessly infuriated, raised his whip, but his arm was seized by a couple of officers. Of the two guardians of the tent, only one was there. Devoord was in the interior of the Hotel de Ville, engaged in attending to the execution of some orders given by Dagish. At the noise made by Buckingham, Manicamp, who was indolently reclining upon the cushions at the doorway of one of the tents, rose with his usual indifference, and perceiving that the disturbance continued made his appearance from underneath the curtains. What is the matter? he said in a gentle tone of voice. And who is it making this disturbance? It so happened that at the moment he began to speak, silence had just been restored, and although his voice was very soft and gentle in its tone, everyone heard his question. Buckingham turned round and looked at the tall, thin figure, and the listless expression of the countenance of his questioner. Probably the personal appearance of Manicamp, who was dressed very plainly, did not inspire him with much respect, for he replied disdainfully, Who may you be, monsieur? Manicamp leaning against the arm of a gigantic trooper, as firm as the pillar of a cathedral replied in his usual tranquil tone of voice. And you, monsieur? I, monsieur, am the Duke of Buckingham. I have hired all the houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, where I have business to transact, and as these houses are let they belong to me, and as I hired them in order to preserve the right of free access to the Hotel de Ville, you are not justified in preventing me passing to it. But who prevents you passing, monsieur? inquired Manicamp. Your sentinels? Because you wish to pass on horseback, and orders have been given to let only persons on foot pass. No one has any right to give orders here, except myself, said Buckingham. On what grounds? inquired Manicamp with his soft tone. Will you do me the favour to explain this enigma to me? Because, as I have already told you, I have hired all the houses looking on the square. We are all very well aware of that, since nothing but the square itself has been left for us. You are mistaken, monsieur. The square belongs to me, as well as the houses in it. Forgive me, monsieur, but you are mistaken there. In our country we say the highway belongs to the king, therefore the square is his majesties, and consequently, as we are the king's ambassadors, the square belongs to us. I have already asked you who you are, monsieur, exclaimed Buckingham, exasperated at the coolness of his interlocutor. My name is Manicamp, replied the young man in a voice whose tones were as harmonious and sweet as the notes of an Aeolian harp. Buckingham shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and said, When I hired these houses which surround the hotel de Ville, the square was unoccupied. These barracks obstruct my sight. I hereby ordered them to be removed. A horse and angry murmur ran through the crowd of listeners at these words. De Geesh arrived at this moment, he pushed through the crowd which separated him from Buckingham, and followed by Raoul arrived on the scene of action from one side, just as De Ward came up from the other. Pardon me, my lord, but if you have any complaint to make, have the goodness to address it to me, in as much as it was I who supplied the plans for the construction of these tents. Moreover, I would beg you to observe, monsieur, that the term barrack is a highly objectionable one, added Manicamp graciously. You were saying, monsieur? continued De Geesh. I was saying, monsieur Le Comte. Resumed Buckingham in a tone of anger more marked than ever, although in some measure moderated by the presence of an equal, I was saying that it is impossible these tents can remain where they are. Impossible, exclaimed De Geesh. And why? Why? Because I object to them. A movement of impatience escaped De Geesh, but a warning glance from Raoul restrained him. You should the less object to them, monsieur, on account of the abuse of priority you have permitted yourself to exercise. Abuse? Most assuredly. You commission a messenger who hires in your name the whole of the town of Haver, without considering the members of the French court, who would be sure to arrive here to meet madame. Your grace will admit that this is hardly friendly conduct in the representative of a friendly nation. The right of possession belongs to him who is first on the ground. Not in France, monsieur. Why not in France? Because France is a country where politeness is observed. Which means, exclaimed Buckingham in so violent a manner that those who were present drew back expecting an immediate collision. Which means, monsieur, replied De Geesh now rather pale, that I cause these tents to be raised as habitations for myself and my friends, as a shelter for the ambassadors of France, as the only place of refuge which your exactions have left us in the town, and that I and those who are with me shall remain in them, at least until an authority more powerful and more supreme than your own shall dismiss me from them. In other words, until we are ejected, as the lawyers say, observed Manicamp blandly, I know an authority, monsieur, which I trust in such as you will respect, said Buckingham placing his hand on his sword. At this moment, and as the goddess of discord in flaming all minds was about to direct their swords against each other, Raoul gently placed his hand on Buckingham's shoulder. One word, my lord, he said. My right, my right, first of all, exclaimed the fiery young man. It is precisely upon that point I wish to have the honour of addressing a word to you. Very well, monsieur, but let your remarks be brief. One question is all I ask. You can hardly expect me to be briefer. Speak, monsieur. I am listening. Are you or is the Duke of Orleans going to marry the granddaughter of Henry IV? What do you mean? exclaimed Buckingham retreating a few steps bewildered. Have the goodness to answer me. Persisted, Raoul, tranquilly. Do you mean to ridicule me, monsieur? inquired Buckingham. Your question is a sufficient answer for me. You admit then that it is not you who are going to marry the princess. Thou know it perfectly well, monsieur. I should imagine. I beg your pardon, but your conduct has been such as to leave it not altogether certain. Proceed, monsieur. What do you mean to convey? Raoul approached the Duke. Are you aware, my lord? he said, lowering his voice, that your extravagance was very much resemble the excesses of jealousy. These jealous fits with respect to any woman are not becoming in one who was neither her lover nor her husband, and I am sure you will admit that my remark applies with still greater force when the lady in question is a princess of the blood royal. Monsieur exclaimed Buckingham. Do you mean to insult madame Henrietta? Be careful, my lord. replied Braggalone codely. For it is you who insult her. A little while since when on board the admiral's ship, you wearied the queen and exhausted the admiral's patience. I was observing my lord, and at first I concluded you were not in possession of your senses, but I have since surmised the real significance of your madness. Monsieur exclaimed Buckingham. One moment more, for I have yet another word to add. I trust I am the only one of my companions who has guessed it. Oh, you are aware, monsieur, said Buckingham, trembling with mingled feelings of anger and uneasiness. Are you aware that you are holding language towards me which requires to be checked? Wear your words well, my lord, said Raoul heartily. My nature is not such that its vivacities need checking, whilst you, on the contrary, are descended from a race whose passions are suspected by all true Frenchmen. I repeat therefore for the second time. Be careful. Careful of what may I ask? Do you presume to threaten me? I am the son of the comptile of fair, my lord, and I never threatened because I strike first. Therefore understand me well. The threat that I hold out to you is this. Buckingham clenched his hands, but Raoul continued as though he had not observed the gesture. At the very first word beyond the respect and deference due to her royal highness, which you permit yourself to use towards her, be patient, my lord, for I am perfectly so. You! Undoubtedly, so long as Madame remained on English territory I held my peace, but from the very moment she stepped on French ground and now that we have received her in the name of the prince, I warn you that at the first mark of disrespect which you, in your insane attachment, exhibit toward the royal house of France, I shall have one of two courses to follow. Either I declare in the presence of every one the madness with which you are now affected and I get you ignominiously ordered back to England, or if you prefer it I will run my dagger through your throat in the presence of all here. This second alternative seems to me the least disagreeable, and I think I shall hold to it. Buckingham had become parlor than the lace collar around his neck. Miss Sir de Bragalon! he said. Is it indeed a gentleman who is speaking to me? Yes, only the gentleman is speaking to a madman. Get cured, my lord, and he will hold quite another language to you. But, Miss Sir de Bragalon! moment the duke in a voice half choked, then putting his hand to his neck. Do you not see I am choking? If your death were to take place at this moment, my lord. Replied, Rahul, with unruffled composure, I should indeed regard it as a great happiness, for this circumstance would prevent all kinds of evil remarks. Not alone about yourself, but also about those illustrious persons whom your devotion is compromising in so absurd a manner. You are right. You are right, said the young man almost beside himself. Yes, yes, better to die than to suffer as I do at this moment. And he grasped a beautiful dagger, the handle of which was inlaid with precious stones in which he half drew from his breast. Rahul thrust his hand aside. Be careful what you do, he said. If you do not kill yourself, you commit a ridiculous action, and if you were to kill yourself, you sprinkle blood upon the nuptial robe of the princess of England. Buckingham remained a minute gasping for breath. During this interval his lips quivered, his fingers worked convulsively, and his eyes wandered as though in delirium. Then suddenly he said, Monsieur de Pragalon, I know nowhere a nobler mind than yours. You are indeed a worthy son of the most perfect gentleman that ever lived. Keep your tents. And he threw his arms round Rahul's neck. All who were present astounded at this conduct, which was the very reverse of what was expected, considering the violence of the one adversary and the determination of the other, began immediately to clap their hands, and a thousand cheers and joyful shouts arose from all sides. Degish in his turn embraced Buckingham somewhat against his inclination, but at all events he did embrace him. This was the signal for French and English to do the same, and they who, until that moment, had looked at each other with restless uncertainty, fraternized on the spot. In the meantime the possession of the princess arrived, and had it not been for Pragalon, two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and blood had been shed upon the flowers with which the ground was covered. At the appearance, however, of the banners born at the head of the procession, complete order was restored. Concorde returned to its place amid the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French in return invited the English to a supper which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides she seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three she appeared in object of worship. The queen mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much on happiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened before them. After the public entry was over and the spectators in the streets had partially dispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the crowd could be heard only in the distance. When the night had closed in, wrapping with its star covered mantle the sea, the harbor, the town, and surrounding country, Dagish, still excited by the great events of the day, returned to his tent and seated himself upon one of the stools with so profound an expression of distress that Bragalon kept his eyes fixed on him, until he heard him sigh, and then he approached him. The Count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands with heaving chest and restless limbs. You are suffering, asked Raoul. Cruely. Bodily, I suppose. Yes, bodily. This has indeed been a harassing day. Continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? No, I wish to talk to you. You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first answered my questions. Proceed, then. You will be frank with me. I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent? I suspect. Because he is in love with Madame, is it not? One could almost swear it to observe him. You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken, Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes, and his every gesture and action the whole day. You are a poet, my dear Count, and find subject for your amuse everywhere. I can perceive love clearly enough. Where it does not exist? Where it does not exist? Nay, where it does exist? Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche? I am convinced of what I say, said the Count. Now inform me, Count, said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him. What has happened to render you so clear-sighted? Guiche hesitated for a moment and then answered, Self-love, I suppose? Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche. What do you mean? I mean that generally you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued. Listen to me, Guiche. We have been campaigners together. We have been on horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our horses dying from exhaustion or hunger have fallen beneath us, and yet we have laughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to-night. It is annoyance, then. What annoyance? That of the evening. The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean? Of course. Is it not vexatious for us, the representatives of our sovereign master, to witness the devotion of an Englishman to our future mistress, the second lady in point of rank in the kingdom? Yes, you are right. But I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. No, still he is intrusive. Did he not on his arrival here almost succeed in creating a disturbance between the English and ourselves, and had it not been for you, for your admirable prudence, for your singular decision of character, swords would have been drawn in the very streets of the town? You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics? Yes, certainly, but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone. What did you say to him? You think he loves her? You admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then. Degish pronounced the latter with so marked an expression that Raul raised his head. The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed the displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him count, replied Raul, I will repeat to you. Listen to me. I said you are regarding with wistful feelings and most injurious desire the sister of your prince, her to whom you are not affianced, who is not, who can never be anything to you. You are outraging those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady to escort her to her husband. You spoke to him in that manner, asked Degish colouring. In those very terms, I even added more. How would you regard us, I said, if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respect for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? These words were so applicable to Degish that he turned pale, and overcome by a sudden agitation was barely able to stretch out one hand to mechanically toward Raul as he covered his eyes and face with the other. But continued Raul not interrupted by this movement of his friend, heaven be praised, the French who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. I added even more, for I said, learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France defold ourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing for them our affections, as well as our fortunes and our lives, and whenever it may chance to happen that the tempter suggests one of those vile thoughts, and that set the heart on fire, we extinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by shedding our blood for the purpose, thus it is that the honour of three is saved, our countries, our masters, and our own. It is thus that we act, your grace, it is thus that every man of honour ought to act. In this manner my dear Guiche, continued Raul, I addressed the Duke of Buckingham, and he admitted I was right, and he resigned himself unresistingly to my arguments. The Guiche who had hitted through sat leaning forward while Raul was speaking drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly. He seized Raul's hand, his face which had been as cold as I seemed on fire. And you spoke magnificently, he said in a half-choked voice. You are indeed a friend, Raul, but now I entreat you. Leave me to myself. Do you wish it? Yes, I need repose. Many things have agitated me today, both in mind and body. When you return tomorrow I shall no longer be the same man. I leave you then. Said Raul, as he withdrew, the Count advanced the step toward his friend and pressed him warmly in his arms, but in this friendly pressure Raul could detect the nervous agitation of a great internal conflict. The night was clear, starlit and splendid, the tempest had passed away, and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace, and security everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather, tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square in front of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the golden moonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones. Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber, a feeble light still glimmered in Madame's apartment which looked out upon the square, and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of the calm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life's anxieties, and in whom the flame of existence sinks placidly as sleep steals over the body. Bragg alone, quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of a man curious to observe, but anxious not to be seen. Sheltered behind the thick curtains of his own tent, embracing with a glance the whole square, he noticed that after a few moments' pause the curtains of the geesh's tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind them he could perceive the shadow of the geesh, his eyes glittering in the obscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess's sitting apartment which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The soft light which illumined the windows was the Count's star. The fervent aspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes, where Alcon sealed in the shadow divined the many passionate thoughts that established between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of the princess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy. A bond created by thoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon the perfumed couch which the Count, with his eyes of his soul, devoured so eagerly. But the geesh and Raul were not the only watchers. The window of one of the houses looking on the square was opened too. The casement of the house where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light which issued from this latter the profile of the duke could be distinctly seen as he indolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvet hangings. He also was breathing in the direction of the princess's apartments, his prayers, and the wild visions of his love. Raul could not resist smiling as thinking of Madame he said to himself, hers is indeed a heart well besieged, and then added compassionately as he thought of Monsieur, and he is a husband well threatened too. It is a good thing for him that he is a prince of such high rank, that he is an army to safeguard for him that which is his own. Rangelon watched for some time the conduct of the two lovers listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers of Manicamp who snored as imperiously as though he was wearing his blue and gold instead of his violet suit. Then he turned toward the night breeze which bore toward him, he seemed to think, the distant song of the nightingale, and after having laid in a due provision of melancholy another nocturnal malady he retired to rest thinking with regard to his own love affair that perhaps four or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent as those of Durgish and Buckingham, were coveting his own idol in the chateau at Blois. And Mademoiselle de Montelet is by no means a very conscientious garrison, said he to himself, sighing aloud. End of Chapter 86, Recording by John Van Stan, Savannah, Georgia Chapter 87 of the D'Artagnan Romance's Vol. 3 Part 1 by Alexander de Ma translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. From Havre to Paris The next day the Fets took place, accompanied by all the pomp and animation that the resources of the town and the cheerful disposition of men's minds could supply. During the last few hours spent in Havre, every preparation for the departure had been made. After Mademoiselle had taken leave of the English fleet and once again had saluted the country and saluting its flags, she entered her carriage surrounded by a brilliant escort. De Guiche had hoped that the Duke of Buckingham would accompany the Admiral to England, but Buckingham succeeded in demonstrating to the Queen that there would be great impropriety in allowing Madame to proceed to Paris almost unprotected. As soon as it had been settled that Buckingham was to accompany Madame, the young Duke selected a corps of gentlemen and officers to form part of his own suite, so that it was almost an army that now set out toward Paris, scattering gold and exciting the liveliest demonstrations as they passed through the different towns and villages on the route. The weather was very fine. France is a beautiful country, especially along the route by which the procession passed. Spring casts its flowers and its perfumed foliage on their path. Normandy, with its vast variety of vegetation, its blue skies and silver rivers displayed itself in all the loveliness of a paradise to the new sister of the King. Fets and brilliant displays received them everywhere along the line of March. Degish and Buckingham forgot everything. Degish, in his anxiety to prevent any fresh attempts on the part of the Duke, and Buckingham in his desire to awaken in the heart of the princess a soft remembrance of the country to which the recollection of many happy days belonged. But alas, the poor Duke could perceive that the image of that country so cherished by himself became from day to day more and more effaced in Madame's mind. An exact proportion as her affection for France became more deeply engraved on her heart. In fact, it was not difficult to perceive that his most devoted attention awakened no acknowledgement and that the grace with which he rode on one of his most fiery horses was thrown away, for it was only casually and by the nearest accident the princess's eyes were turned toward him. In vain did he try in order to fix upon himself one of those looks which were thrown carelessly around, or bestowed elsewhere, to produce in the animal he rode its greatest display of strength, speed, temper, and address. In vain did he, by exciting his horse almost to madness, spur him at the risk of dashing himself in pieces against the trees, or of rolling in the ditches over the gates and barriers which they passed, or down the steep declivities of the hills. Madame, whose attention had been roused by the noise, turned her head for a moment to observe the cause of it, and then, slightly smiling again, entered into conversation with her faithful guardians, Raoul and Diggish, who were quietly riding at her carriage doors. Buckingham felt himself a prey to all the tortures of jealousy. An unknown, unheard of anguish glided through his veins and laid siege to his heart, and then, as if to show that he knew the folly of his conduct and that he wished to correct, by the humblest submission, his flights of absurdity, he mastered his horse and compelled him, reeking with sweat and flecked with foam, to champ his bit close beside the carriage amidst the crowd of courtiers. Occasionally he obtained a word from Madame as a recompense, and yet her speech seemed almost a reproach. That is well, my lord. She said, Now you are reasonable. Or from Raoul, your grace is killing your horse. Buckingham listened patiently to Raoul's remarks, for he instinctively felt, without having any proof, that such was the case, that Raoul checked the display of Diggish's feelings and that, had it not been for Raoul mad act or proceeding either of the count or of Buckingham himself, would have brought about an open rupture or a disturbance, perhaps even exile itself. From the moment of that excited conversation the two young men had held in front of the tents at Haver, when Raoul made the Duke perceive the impropriety of his conduct, Buckingham felt himself attracted toward Raoul almost in spite of himself. He often entered into conversation with him, and it was nearly always to talk to him either of his father or of D'Artagnan their mutual friend, in whose praise Buckingham was nearly as enthusiastic as Raoul. Raoul endeavored as much as possible to make the conversation turn upon the subject in DeWard's presence, who had during the whole journey been exceedingly annoyed at the superior position taken by Braggalone, and especially by his influence over Diggish. DeWard's had that keen and merciless penetration most evil natures possess. He had immediately remarked Diggish's melancholy and divine the nature of his regard for the Princess. Instead, however, of treating the subject with the same reserve which Raoul practiced, instead of regarding with that respect which was there due the obligations and duties of society, DeWard's resolutely attacked in the count the ever-sounding chord of juvenile audacity and pride. It happened one evening, during a halt at Nant, that while Diggish and DeWard were leaning against a barrier engaged in conversation, Buckingham and Raoul were also talking together as they walked up and down. Manacamp was engaged in devoted attendance on the Princess, who already treated him without reserve on account of his versatile fancy, his frank courtesy of manner, and conciliatory disposition. Confess, said DeWard, that you are really ill and that your pedagogue of a friend has not succeeded in curing you. I do not understand you, said the count, and yet it is easy enough you are dying of love. You are mad, DeWard. Madness it would be, I admit, if Madame were really indifferent to your martyrdom, but she takes so much notice of it, observes it to such an extent that she compromises herself, and I tremble lest, on our arrival at Paris, misshurt a brag-alone may not denounce both of you. For shame, DeWard, again attacking the brag-alone. Come, come, a truce to child's play, replied the count's evil genius in an undertone. You know as well as I do what I mean. Besides, you must have observed how the Princess's glance softens as she looks at you. You can tell by the very inflection of her voice what pleasure she takes in listening to you and can feel how thoroughly she appreciates the verses you recite to her. You cannot deny, too, that every morning she tells you how indifferently she slept the previous night. True, DeWard, quite true, but what good is there in your telling me all that? Is it not important to know the exact position of affairs? No. No. Not when I am a witness of things that are enough to drive one mad. Stay, stay, said DeWard. Look, she calls you. Who do you understand? Profit by the occasion while your pedagogue is absent. Deguish could not resist. An invincible attraction drew him toward the Princess, and DeWard smiled as he saw him withdraw. You are mistaken, Mr. said Rowell, stepping suddenly across the barrier against which the previous moment the two friends had been leaning. The pedagogue is here and has overheard you. DeWard, at the sound of Rowell's voice, which he recognized without having occasion to look at him, half drew his sword. Put up your sword, said Rowell. You know perfectly well that until our journey is at an end every demonstration of that nature is useless. Why do you distill into the heart of the man you term your friend all the bitterness that infects your own? As regards myself, you wish to arouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor, my father's friend in my own, and as for the count you wish him to love one who is destined for your master. Really, Mr. I should regard you as a coward, and a traitor too if I did not, with greater justice, regard you as a madman. Mr., exclaimed DeWard exasperated, I was deceived I find in terming you a pedagogue. The tone you assume in the style which is peculiarly your own is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman. Discontinue, I beg, wherever I am present this style I can plain of, and the tone also. I hate Mr. D'Artagnan because he was guilty of a cowardly act toward my father. You lie, Mr., said Raul coolly. You give me the lie, Mr., exclaimed DeWard. Why not if what you assert is untrue? You give me the lie and will not draw your sword. I have resolved, Mr., not to kill you until Madame shall have been delivered safely into her husband's hands. Kill me? Believe me, Mr., your schoolmaster's rod does not kill so easily. No, replied Raul sternly, but Mr. D'Artagnan's sword kills, and not only do I possess his sword, but he hasn't self taught me how to use it, and with that sword when a befitting time arrives I will avenge his name, a name you have dishonored. Take care, Mr., exclaimed DeWard. If you do not immediately give me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revenge myself. Indeed, Mr., said Buckingham, suddenly appearing upon the scene of action. That is a threat which savers of assassination, and therefore ill becomes a gentleman. What did you say, my lord? said DeWard, turning round towards him. I said, Mr., that the words you have spoken are displeasing to my English ears. Very well, Mr., if what you say is true, exclaimed DeWard, thoroughly incensed, I at least find a new one who will not escape me. Understand my words as you like. I take them in the manner they cannot be but understood, replied Buckingham with that haughty tone which characterised him, and which even in ordinary conversation gave a tone of defiance to everything he said. Mr., DeBragalon is my friend. You insult, Mr., DeBragalon, and you shall give me satisfaction for that insult. DeWard cast a look upon DeBragalon, who, faithful to the character he had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke's defiance. It would seem that I did not insult Mr., DeBragalon, since Mr., DeBragalon, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himself insulted. At all events, you insult someone. Yes, I insulted Mr., D'Artagnan, resumed DeWard who had observed that this was the only means of stinging Raul as to awaken his anger. That, then, said Buckingham, is another matter. Precisely so, said DeWard, it is the province of Mr., D'Artagnan's friends to defend him. I am entirely of your opinion," replied the duke, who had regained all his indifference of manner. If Mr., DeBragalon were offended, I could not reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himself here. But when you say that it is a quarrel of Mr., D'Artagnan, you will, of course, leave me to deal with the matter," said DeWard. Nae, on the contrary, for I draw my sword," said Buckingham, unsheathing it as he spoke, for if Mr., D'Artagnan injured your father, he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a great service to mine. DeWard was thunderstruck. Mr., D'Artagnan, continued Buckingham, is the bravest gentleman I know. I shall be delighted as I owe him many personal obligations to settle them with you by crossing my sword with yours. At the same moment, Buckingham drew his sword gracefully from its scabbard, saluted Raul and put himself on guard. DeWard advanced the step to meet him. Stay, gentlemen," said Raul, advancing toward them, and placing his own drawn sword between the combatants. The affair is hardly worth the trouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess. Mr., DeWard speaks ill of Mr., D'Artagnan, with whom he is not even acquainted. What, Mr., said DeWard, setting his teeth hard together, and resting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot. Do you assert that I do not know Mr., D'Artagnan? Certainly not, you do not know him, replied Raul coldly, and you are even not aware where he is to be found. Not know where he is? Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him upon strangers instead of seeking Mr., D'Artagnan where he is to be found. DeWard turned pale. Well, Mr., continued Raul, I will tell you where Mr., D'Artagnan is. He is now in Paris, when on duty, is to be met with at the Louvre, when not on duty in the Rudol and Bard. Mr., D'Artagnan can be easily discovered at either of those two places. Having therefore, as you assert so many causes of complaint against him, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunity of giving you that satisfaction, you seem to ask of every one but of himself. DeWard passed his hand across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. For shame, Mr., DeWard, so quarrelsome at disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of edicts against duels. Pray, think of that, the king will be incensed at our disobedience, particularly at such a time, and his majesty will be in the right. Excuses! murmured DeWard. More pretexts! Really, Mr., DeWard? Resumed Raul, such remarks are the idolist bluster. You know very well that a duke of Buckingham is a man of undoubted courage, who has already fought ten duels and will probably fight eleven. His name alone is significant enough. As far as I am concerned, you are well aware that I can fight also. I fought at Sands, at Blinow, at the Dune, in front of the artillery, a hundred places in front of the line, while you, I say this parenthetically, were a hundred places behind it. True it is that on the occasion there was far too great a concourse of persons present for your courage to be observed, and on that account perhaps you did not reveal it. While here it would be a display and would excite remark, you wish that others should talk about you in what manner you do not care. Do not depend upon me, Mr. DeWard, to assist you in your designs, for I shall certainly not afford you that pleasure. Sensibly observed! said Buckingham, putting up his sword. And I ask your forgiveness, Mr. de Bragalone, for having allowed myself to yield to a first impulse. DeWard, however, on the contrary, perfectly furious, bounded forward and raised his sword threateningly against Rahul, who had scarcely time to put himself in a posture of defence. Take care, Mr. said Bragalone, tranquilly, or you will put out one of my eyes. You will not fight, then! said DeWard. Not at this moment, but this I promise to do. Immediately on our arrival at Paris I will conduct you to Mr. d'Artagnan, to whom you shall detail all the causes of your complaint you have against him. Mr. d'Artagnan will solicit the king's permission to measure swords with you. The king will yield his consent, and when you shall have received the sword thrust in due course, you will consider in a calmer frame of mind the precepts of the gospel, which enjoin forgetfulness of injuries. Exclaimed DeWard, furious at this imperturbable coolness, one can clearly see you are half a bastard, Mr. de Bragalone. Rahul became his pale as death, his eyes flashed lightning causing DeWard involuntarily to fall back, bucking him also who had perceived their expression through himself between the two adversaries whom he had expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. DeWard had reserved this injury for the last. He clasped his sword firmly in his hand and awaited the encounter. You are right, Mr. said Rahul, mastering his emotion. I am only acquainted with my father's name, but I know too well that the compthal affair is too upright and honorable a man to allow me to fear, for a single moment that there is, as you insinuate, any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of my mother's name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach. You are deficient in loyalty of conduct. You are wanting in courtesy in reproaching me with misfortune. It matters little, however. The insult has been given, and I consider myself insulted accordingly. It is quite understood, then, that after you shall have received satisfaction from Mr. D'Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me. I admire your prudence, monsieur," replied DeWard with a bitter smile. A little while ago you promised me a sword thrust from Mr. D'Artagnan, and now, after I shall have received this, you offer me one from yourself. Do not disturb yourself," replied Rahul with concentrated anger. In all affairs of that nature, Mr. D'Artagnan is exceedingly skillful, and I will beg him as a favour to treat you as he did your father. In other words, despair your life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure after your recovery of killing you outright, for you have the heart of a viper, monsieur DeWard, and in very truth too many precautions cannot be taken against you. I shall take my precautions against you," said DeWard. Be assured of it. Allow me, monsieur," said Buckingham, to translate your remark by a piece of advice I am about to give, monsieur de Bragalon. Monsieur de Bragalon, wear a cuirass. DeWard clenched his hands. Ah! said he, you two gentlemen intend to wait until you have taken that precaution before you measure your swords against mine. Very well, monsieur," said Rahul, since you positively will have it so, let us settle the affair now." And drawing his sword he advanced toward DeWard. What are you going to do? said Buckingham. Be easy, said Rahul. It will not be very long. DeWard placed himself on his guard, their swords crossed. DeWard flew upon Rahul with such impetuosity that, at the first clashing of the steel blades, Buckingham clearly saw that Rahul was only trifling with his adversary. Buckingham stepped aside and watched the combat. Rahul was as calm as if he were handling a foil instead of a sword. Having retreated a step, he perried three or four fierce thrusts which DeWard made at him, caught the sword of the latter within his own and sent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as DeWard stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat, Rahul sheathed the sword, seized him by the collar and the waistband and hurled his adversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling and mad with rage. We shall meet again! murmured DeWard rising from the ground and picking up his sword. I have done nothing for the last hour, said Rahul, but say the same thing. Then turning toward the Duke he said, I entreat you to be silent about this affair. I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my anger carried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it. Forget it, too. Dear, this count! said the Duke, pressing within his own the vigorous and valiant hand of his companion. Allow me on the contrary to remember it, and to look after your safety. That man is dangerous! He will kill you. My father, replied Rahul, lived for twenty years under the menace of a much more formidable enemy, and he still lives. Your father had good friends this count. Yes, sighed Rahul, such friends indeed that none are now left like them. Do not say that. I beg. At the very moment I offer you my friendship. And Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Rahul, who delightedly received the proffered alliance. In my family, added Buckingham, you are aware, Mishir de Bragalone, we die to save our friends. I know it well, Duke, replied Rahul. End of Chapter 87, Recording by John Van Stan, Savannah, Georgia Chapter 88 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson, this Librivox Recording is in the public domain. An account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine thought of Madame. Nothing further interrupted the journey. Under a pretext that was little remarked, Mishir de Ward went forward in advance of the others. He took Manicamp with him for his equable and dreamy disposition acted as a counter-poise to his own. It is a subject of remark that quarrelsome and restless characters invariably seek the companionship of gentle, timorous dispositions, as if the former sought, in the contrast, repose for their own ill-humour and the latter a protection for their weakness. Buckingham and Bragalone admitting de Geesh into their friendship, in concert with him sang the praises of the princess during the whole of the journey. Bragalone had, however, insisted that their three voices should be in concert instead of singing in solo parts, as de Geesh and his rivals seemed to have acquired a dangerous habit of investigation. This style of harmony pleased the queen mother exceedingly, but it was not perhaps so agreeable to the young princess, who was an incarnation of cockatry, and who without any fear, as far as her own voice was concerned, sought opportunities of so perilously distinguishing herself. She possessed one of those fearless and unconscious dispositions that find gratification in an excess of sensitiveness of feeling, and for whom, also, danger has a certain fascination. And so her glances, her smiles, her toilet, and inexhaustible armory of weapons of offence was showered on the three young men with overwhelming force, and from her well-stored arsenal issued glances, kindly recognitions into a thousand other little charming attentions which were intended to strike at long range, the gentlemen who formed the escort, the town people, the officers of the different cities she passed through, pages, populace, and servants. It was wholesale slaughter, a general devastation. By the time Madame arrived in Paris, she had reduced to slavery about a hundred thousand lovers, and brought in her train to Paris half a dozen men who were almost mad about her, and two who were, indeed, literally out of their minds. Raoul was the only person who defined the power of this woman's attraction, and as his heart was already engaged, he arrived in the capital full of indifference and distrust. Occasionally during the journey he conversed with the Queen of England respecting the power of fascination which Madame possessed, and the mother whom so many misfortunes and deceptions had taught experience, replied, Henrietta was sure to be illustrious in one way or another, whether born in a palace or born in obscurity, for she is a woman of great imagination, capricious, and self-willed. Jeward and Manicamp in their self-assumed character of courtiers had announced the Princess's arrival. The procession was met at Nantair by a brilliant escort of cavaliers and carriages. It was Monsieur himself, followed by the Chevalier de la Reine and by his favourites, the latter being themselves followed by a portion of the King's military household, who had arrived to meet his effianced bride. As Saint Germain the Princess and her mother had changed their heavy travelling carriage, somewhat impaired by the journey for a light, richly decorated chariot drawn by six horses with white and gold harness. Seated in this open carriage as though upon a throne, and beneath a parasol of embroidered silk, fringed with feathers sat the young and lovely Princess, on whose beaming face were reflected the soft and rose tints which suited her delicate skin to perfection. Monsieur, on reaching the carriage, was struck by her beauty. He showed his admiration in so marked a manner that the Chevalier de la Reine shrugged his shoulders as he listened to his compliments, while Buckingham and de Guiche were almost heartbroken. After the usual courtesies had been rendered and the ceremony completed, the procession slowly resumed the road to Paris. The presentations had been carelessly made, and Buckingham, with the rest of the English gentlemen, had been introduced to Monsieur, from whom they had received but very indifferent attention. But during their progress, as he observed that the Duke devoted himself with his accustomed earnestness to the carriage door, he asked the Chevalier de la Reine, his inseparable companion, who is that Cavalier? He was presented to your Highness a short while ago. It is the handsome Duke of Buckingham. Ah! Yes, I remember. Madame's knight added the favourite with an inflection of the voice which envious minds can alone give to the simplest phrases. What do you say? replied the Prince. I said, Madame's knight. Has she I recognise knight then? One would think you can judge of that for yourself. Look only how they are laughing and flirting, all three of them. What do you mean by all three? Do you not see that de Guiche is one of the party? Yes, I see. But what does that prove? That Madame has two admirers instead of one. Now poison the simplest thing. I poison nothing. Ah! Your Royal Highness's mind is perverted. The honours of the Kingdom of France are being paid to your wife, and you are not satisfied. The Duke of Olien dreaded the satirical humour of the Chevalier de la Reine whenever it reached a certain degree of bitterness, and he changed the conversation abruptly. The Princess is pretty. Said he very negligently as if he were speaking of a stranger. Yes. replied the Chevalier in the same tone. You say yes like a no. She has very beautiful black eyes. Yes, but small. That is so, but they are brilliant. She is tall and of a good figure. I fancy she stoopes a little, my lord. I do not deny it. She has a noble appearance. Yes, but her face is thin. I thought her teeth beautiful. They can easily be seen for her mouth is large enough. Decidedly, I was wrong, my lord. You are certainly handsomer than your wife. But what do you think me as handsome as Buckingham? Certainly. And he thinks so too, for look, my lord. He is redoubling his attentions to Madame to prevent your effacing the impression he has made. Monsieur made a movement of impatience, but as he noticed the smile of triumph passed across the Chevalier's lips, he drew up his horse to a foot-pace. Why? said he. Should I occupy myself any longer about my cousin? Do I not already know her? Were we not brought up together? Did I not see her at the Louvre when she was quite a child? No great change has taken place in her since then, prince. At the period you allude to, she was somewhat less brilliant and scarcely so proud, either. One evening, particularly, you may remember, my lord. The king refused to dance with her because he thought her plain and badly dressed. These words made the Duke of Olien frown. It was by no means flattering for him to marry a princess of whom, when young, the king had not thought much. He would probably have retorted, but at this moment de Guiche quitted the carriage to join the prince. He had remarked the prince and the Chevalier together and full of anxious attention. He seemed to try and guess the nature of the remarks which they had just exchanged. The Chevalier, whether he had some treacherous object in view or from imprudence, did not take the trouble to dissimulate. Count, he said. You're a man of excellent taste. Thank you for the compliment, replied Guiche, but why do you say that? Well, I appeal to his highness. No doubt of it, said monsieur. And Guiche knows perfectly well that I regard him as a most finished Cavalier. Well, since that is decided, I resume. You have been in the princess's society, Count, for the last eight days, have you not? Yes, replied de Guiche, colouring in spite of himself. Well, then tell us frankly, what do you think of her personal appearance? Of her personal appearance? Returned de Guiche stupefied. Yes, of her appearance, of her mind, of herself, in fact. Astounded by this question de Guiche hesitated answering. Come, come, de Guiche. Resumed the Chevalier, laughingly. Tell us your opinion, frankly, the prince commands it. Yes, yes, said the prince. Be frank. De Guiche stammered out a few unintelligible words. I am perfectly well aware. Returned, monsieur. That the subject is a delicate one, but you know you can tell me everything. What do you think of her? In order to avoid betraying his real thoughts, de Guiche had recourse to the only defence which a man taken by surprise really has, and accordingly told in untruth. I do not find, madame. He said, either good or bad looking, yet rather good than bad looking. What? Count! exclaimed the Chevalier. You who went into such ecstasies and uttered so many exclamations at the sight of her portrait. De Guiche coloured violently, very fortunately his horse, which was slightly restive, enabled him by a sudden plunge to conceal his agitation. What portrait! he murmured joining them again. The Chevalier had not taken his eyes off him. Yes, the portrait was not the miniature of good likeness. I do not remember. I had forgotten the portrait. It quite escaped my recollection. And yet it made a very marked impression upon you, said the Chevalier. That is not unlikely. Is she witty at all events? inquired the Duke. I believe so, my lord. Is Mr. Debuckingham witty, too? said the Chevalier. I do not know. My opinion is that he must be, replied the Chevalier, for he makes madame laugh, and she seems to take no little pleasure in his society, which never happens to a clever woman when in the company of a simpleton. Of course, then, he must be clever, said De Guiche simply. At this moment Raoul opportunally arrived, seeing how De Guiche was pressed by his dangerous questioner, to whom he addressed a remark, and in that way changed the conversation. The entree was brilliant and joyous. The King in honour of his brother had directed that the festivities should be on a scale of the greatest possible magnificence. Madame and her mother alighted at the Louvre, where during their exile they had so gloomily submitted to obscurity, misery, and privations of every description. That palace, which had been so inhospitable a residence for the unhappy daughter of Henry IV, the naked walls, the uneven floors, the ceilings matted with cobwebs, the vast, elapidated chimney-places, the cold hearths on which the charity extended to them by Parliament hardly permitted a fire to glow, was completely altered in appearance. The richest hangings and the thickest carpets glistening flagstones and pictures, with their richly gilded frames, in every direction could be seen a candelabra, mirrors, and furniture and fittings of the most sumptuous character. In every direction also were guards of the proudest military bearing with floating plumes, crowds of attendants and courtiers in the antechambers and upon the staircases, in the courtyards where the grass had formerly been allowed to luxuriate, as if the ungrateful Mazorine had thought it a good idea to let the Parisians perceive that solitude and disorder were, with misery and despair, the fit accompaniments of fallen monarchy, the immense courtyards, formerly silent and desolate, were now thronged with courtiers whose horses were pacing and prancing to and fro. The carriages were filled with young and beautiful women who awaited the opportunity of saluting as she passed, the daughter of that daughter of France, who, during her widowhood and exile, had sometimes gone without wood for her fire, and bread for her table, whom the meanest attendants at the chateau had treated with indifference and contempt. And so, Madame Henrietta once more returned to the Louvre with her heart more swollen with bitter recollection than her daughters, whose disposition was fickle and forgetful with triumph and delight. She knew but too well this brilliant reception was paid to the happy mother of a king restored to his throne, a throne second to none in Europe, while the worse than indifferent reception she had met before with was paid to her the daughter of Henry IV as a punishment for having been unfortunate. After the princesses had been installed in their apartments and had rested, the gentlemen who had formed their escort, having in like manner recovered from their fatigue, they resumed their accustomed habits and occupations. Raoul began by setting off to see his father, who had left for Blois. He then tried to see Mr. D'Itanian, who, however, being engaged in the organisation of a military household for the king, could not be found anywhere. Pragolone next sought out de Guiche, but the count was occupied in a long conference with his tailors and with Manicamp, which consumed his whole time. With the Duke of Buckingham he fared still worse, for the Duke was purchasing horses after horses, diamonds upon diamonds. He monopolised every embroiderer, jeweler, and tailor that Paris could boast of. Between de Guiche and himself a vigorous contest ensued, invariably a courteous one, in which, in order to ensure success, the Duke was ready to spend a million, while the Marachal de Gramant had only allowed his son sixty thousand francs. So Buckingham laughed and spent his money. Guiche groaned in despair and would have shown it more violently, had it not been for the advice de Pragolone gave him. A million! repeated de Guiche daily. I must submit. Why will not the Marachal advance me a portion of my patrimony? Because you would throw it away, said Raoul. What can that matter to him? If I am to die of it, I shall die of it, and then I shall need nothing further. But what need is there to die? said Raoul. I do not wish to be conquered in elegance by an Englishman. My dear Count, said Manicamp, elegance is not a costly commodity. It is only a very difficult accomplishment. Yes, but difficult things cost a good deal of money, and I have only got sixty thousand francs. A very embarrassing state of things, truly, said De Ward, even if you spent as much as Buckingham there is only nine hundred and forty thousand franc difference. Where am I to find them? Get into debt. I am in debt already. A greater reason for getting further. Advice like this resulted in De Guiche becoming excited to such an extent that he committed extravagances, where Buckingham only incurred expenses. The rumour of this extravagant profuseness delighted the hearts of all the shopkeepers in Barris. From the hotel of the Duke of Buckingham to that of the Comte Grimond nothing but miracles was attempted. While all this was going on, Madame was resting herself, and Bragalone was engaged in writing the man was out of the Valier. He had already dispatched four letters, and not an answer to any one of them had been received, when on the very morning fixed for the marriage ceremony which was to take place in the chapel at the Palais Royale, Raoul, who was dressing, heard his valet announce Monsieur de Malicorn. What can this Malicorn want with me? thought Raoul, and then said to his valet, Let him wait. It is a gentleman from Blois, said the valet. Admit him at once, said Raoul eagerly. Malicorn entered as brilliant as a star and wearing a superb sword at his side. After having saluted Raoul most gracefully, he said, Monsieur de Bragalone, I own the bearer of a thousand compliments from a lady to you. Raoul colored. From a lady, said he, from a lady of Blois. Yes, Monsieur, from mademoiselle de Montelet. Thank you, Monsieur. I recollect you now, said Raoul, and what does mademoiselle de Montelet require of me? Malicorn drew four letters from his pocket which he offered to Raoul. My own letters? Is it possible? he said, turning pale. My letters? and the seals unbroken? Monsieur, your letters did not find at Blois the person to whom they were addressed, and so they are now returned to you. Mademoiselle de Lavalier has left Blois then, exclaimed Raoul, eight days ago. Where is she then? In Paris. How was it known that these letters were from me? Mademoiselle de Montelet recognized your handwriting and your seal, said Malicorn. Raoul colored and smiled. Mademoiselle de Montelet is exceedingly amiable, he said. She is always kind and charming. Always, Monsieur. Surely she could give me some precise information about Mademoiselle de Lavalier. I could never could find her in this immense city. Malicorn drew another packet from his pocket. You may possibly find in this letter what you are anxious to learn. Raoul hurriedly broke the seal. The writing was that of Mademoiselle Aura, and in close with these words, Paris Palais Royale, the day of the nuptial blessing. What does this mean? inquired Raoul of Malicorn. You probably know. I do, Monsieur. For pity's sake, tell me then. Impossible, Monsieur. Why so? Because Mademoiselle Aura has forbidden me to do so. Raoul looked at his strange visitor and remained silent. At least tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate. That you will see. You are very severe in your reservations. Will you grant me a favor, Monsieur? Said Malicorn. In exchange for that you refuse me. Precisely. What is it? I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticket to admit me. In spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one, could you get me admitted? Certainly. Do me this kindness, then, I entreat. Most willingly, Monsieur, come with me. I am exceedingly indebted to you, Monsieur, said Malicorn. I thought you were a friend of Monsieur de Manicap. I am Monsieur, but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, and I let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at me sword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is the reason I could not ask him for a ticket he wanted to kill me. I can well believe it, laughed Raoul. I know Manicamp is capable of killing a man who has been unfortunate enough to admit the crime you have to reproach yourself with, but I will repair the mischief as far as you are concerned. I will but fasten my cloak, and shall then be ready to serve you, not only as a guide, but as your introducer, too. End of Chapter 88 Recording by John Van Stan Savannah, Georgia Chapter 89 of the D'Artagnan Romances Volume III Part I by Alexander Dumas Translated by William Robson This lipofoxicording is in the public domain A Surprise for Madame de Montelet Madame's marriage was celebrated in the Chapel of the Palais Royale in the presence of a crowd of courtiers who had been most scrupulously selected. However, notwithstanding the marked favour which an invitation indicated, Raoul, faithful to his promised amalicorn, who was so anxious to witness the ceremony, obtained admission for him. After he had fulfilled this engagement, Raoul approached a geesh who, as if in contrast with his magnificent costume, exhibited a countenance so utterly dejected that the Duke of Buckingham was the only person present who could contend with him as far as paler and discomforture were concerned. Take care, Count! said Raoul, approaching his friend, and preparing to support him at the moment the Archbishop blessed the married couple. In fact, the Prince of Cond was attentively scrutinizing these two images of desolation, standing like karyatitis on either side of the nave of the church. The Count, after that, kept a more careful watch over himself. At the termination of the ceremony, the King and Queen passed on toward the grand reception room where Madame and her suite would be presented to them. It was remarked that the King, who had seemed more than surprised that his sister-in-law's appearance, was most flattering in his compliments to her. Again, it was remarked that the Queen's mother, fixing a long and thoughtful gaze upon Buckingham, leaned toward Madame de Montville as though to ask her, Do you not see how much he resembles his father? And finally it was remarked that Mishir watched everybody and seemed quite discontented. After the reception of the princess and ambassadors, Mishir solicited the King's permission to present it to him as well as to Madame, the person's belonging to their new household. Are you aware, Vicompt? inquired the Prince de Cond of Raoul, whether the household has been selected by a person of taste, and whether there are any faces worth looking at. I have not the slightest idea, Monsignor, replied Raoul. You affect ignorance, surely. In what way, Monsignor? You are a friend of de Guiche, who is one of the friends of the Prince. That may be so, Monsignor, but the matter having no interest whatever for me, I never questioned de Guiche on the subject, and de Guiche on his part, never having been questioned, did not communicate any particulars to me. But, Manicamp. It is true I saw Manicamp at Haver, and during the journey here, but I was no more inquisitive with him than I had been toward de Guiche. Besides, is it likely that Manicamp should know anything of such matters? For he is a person of only secondary importance. My dear Vicompt, do you not know better than that? said the Prince. Why, it is these persons of secondary importance who, on such occasions, have all the influence, and the truth is that nearly everything has been done through Manicamp's presentations to de Guiche, and through de Guiche to monsieur. I assure you, Monsignor, I was ignorant of that, said Raoul, and what your Highness does me the honour to impart is perfectly new to me. I will most readily believe you, although it seems incredible. Besides, we shall not have long to wait. See, the flying squadron is advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Ah, what pretty faces! A bevy of young girls at this moment entered the salon, conducted by Madame de Navarre, and to Manicamp's credit be it said, if indeed he had taken that part in their selection, which the Prince de Conte assigned him, it was a display calculated to dazzle those who, like the Prince, could appreciate every character and style of beauty. A young, fair, complexioned girl from twenty and one and twenty of years of age, and whose large blue eyes flashed as she opened them, and the most dazzling manner walked at the head of the band and was the first presented. Mademoiselle de Tornay Charente, said Madame de Navarre to monsieur, who, as he saluted his wife, repeated, Mademoiselle de Tornay Charente. Ah-ha, said the Prince de Conte Raoul, she is presentable enough. Yes, said Raoul, but as she not a somewhat haughty style. We know these heirs very well de Conte. Three months hence she will be tame enough, but look, there indeed is a pretty face. Yes, said Raoul, and one I am acquainted with. Mademoiselle aura de Montelet. Said Madame de Navarre, the name and Christian name were carefully repeated by monsieur. Great heavens! exclaimed Raoul, fixing his bewildered gaze upon the entrance doorway. What's the matter? inquired the Prince. Was it Mademoiselle aura de Montelet who made you utter such a great heavens? No, Monsignor. No. replied Raoul, pale and trembling. Well, then, if it be not Mademoiselle aura de Montelet, it is that pretty blonde who follows her. What beautiful eyes! She is rather thin, but has fascinations without number. Mademoiselle de la banque de la valière. Said Madame de Navarre, and as his name resounded through his whole being, a cloud seemed to rise from his breast to his eyes so that he neither saw nor heard anything more, and the Prince finding him nothing more than a mere echo which remained silent under his raileries, moved forward to inspect somewhat close to the beautiful girls whom his first glance had already particularised. Louise here, Louise a maid of honour de Mademoiselle de Montelet. murmured Raoul, in his eyes which did not suffice to satisfy his reason, wandered from Louise de Montelet. The latter had already emancipated herself from her assumed timidity which she only needed for the presentation and for her reverences. Mademoiselle de Montelet, from the corner of the room to which she had retired, was looking with no slight confidence at the different person's present, and, having discovered Raoul, she amused herself with the profound astonishment which her own and her friend's presence there caused the unhappy lover. Her waggish and malicious look, which Raoul tried to avoid meeting and which, yet he sought inquiringly from time to time, placed him on the rack. As for Louise, whether from natural timidity or some other reason for which Raoul could not account, she kept her eyes constantly cast down, intimidated, dazzled, and with impeded respiration, she withdrew herself as much as possible aside, unaffected even by the nudges Montelet gave her with her elbow. The whole scene was a perfect enigma for Raoul, the key to which she would have given anything to obtain. But no one was there who could assist him, not even Malicorn, who, a little uneasy at finding himself in the presence of so many persons of good birth, and not a little discouraged by Montelet's bantering glances, he had described a circle and by degrees succeeded in getting a few paces from the prince, behind the group of maids of honour and nearly within reach of Mademoiselle Aura's voice. She being the planet around which he, as her attendant satellite, seemed constrained to gravitate. As he recovered his self-possession, Raoul fancied he recognized voices on his right hand that were familiar to him, and he perceived a ward to guiche and the Chevalier de la Reine conversing together. It is true they were talking in tone so low that the sound of their words could hardly be heard in the vast department. To speak in that manner from any particular place without bending down or turning round, or looking at the person with whom one may be engaged in conversation, is a talent that cannot be immediately acquired by newcomers. Long study is needed for such conversation which, without a look, gesture or movement of the head, seem like the conversation of a group of statues. In fact, in the kings and queens grand assemblies, while their majesties were speaking, and while everyone present seemed to be listening in the midst of the most profound silence, some of these noiseless conversations took place, in which adulation was not the prevailing feature. But Raoul was a one, among others, exceedingly clever in this art. So much a matter of etiquette that from the movement of the lips he was often able to guess the sense of the words. Who is that Montelet? inquired De Ward. And that Lavalier, what country town have we had sent here? Montelet, said the Chevalier. Oh, I know her. She is a good sort of girl whom we shall find amusing enough. Lavalier is a charming girl, slightly lame. Ah, beh! said De Ward. Do not be absurd, De Ward. There are some very characteristic and ingenious Latin axioms about lame ladies. Gentlemen, gentlemen! said De Guiche, looking at Raoul with uneasiness. Be a little careful. I entreat you. But the uneasiness of the count, in appearance at least, was not needed. Raoul had preserved the firmest and most indifferent countenance, although he had not lost the word that passed. He seemed to keep an account of the insolence and license of the two speakers in order to settle matters with them at the earliest opportunity. De Ward seemed to guess what was passing in his mind and continued, Who are these young ladies' lovers? Montelet's lover, said the Chevalier. Yes, Montelet first. You, I, or De Guiche, whoever likes, in fact. And the other? Mademoiselle de la Valière? Yes. Take care, gentlemen! exclaimed De Guiche, anxious to put a stop to De Ward's reply. Take care, madame, is listening to us. Raoul thrust his hand up to the wrist and to his just a core in great agitation. But the very malignantly which he saw was excited against these poor girls made him take a serious resolution. Poor Louise, he thought, has come here only with an honorable object in view, and under honorable protection, and I must learn what that object is, which she has in view, and who it is that protects her. And following Malicorn's maneuver, he made his way toward the group of the maids of honour. The presentations were soon over. The king who had done nothing but look at and admire madame shortly afterwards left the reception room accompanied by the two queens. The Chevalier de la Reine resumed his place beside monsieur, and as he accompanied him, insinuated a few drops of the venom he had collected during the last hour, while looking at some of the faces in the court and suspecting that some of their hearts might be happy. A few of the persons present followed the king as he quitted the apartment, but such of the courtier's as assumed in independence of character and professed a gallantry of disposition began to approach the ladies of the court. The prince paid his compliments to Mademoiselle de Tarnay Charant. Buckingham devoted himself to Madame Chalet and mademoiselle de Lafayette, whom madame already distinguished by her notice, and whom she held in high regard. As for the comte guiche who had abandoned monsieur as soon as he could approach madame alone, he conversed with great animation with madame de Valentinois, and with mademoiselles de Cracui and de Châtillon. Amid these varied political and amorous interests, Malicorn was anxious to gain Montelet's attention, but the latter preferred talking with Raoul, even if it were only to amuse herself with his innumerable questions in his astonishment. Raoul had gone direct to mademoiselle de Lavalière and had saluted her with the profoundest respect at which Louise blushed and could not say a word. Montelet, however, hurried to her assistance. Well, monsieur le viccomte, here we are, you see. I do indeed see you," said Raoul, smiling, and it is exactly because you are here that I wish to ask for some explanation. Malicorn approached the group with his most fascinating smile. Go away, Malicorn, really, you are exceedingly indiscreet. At this remark Malicorn bit his lips and retired a few steps without making any reply. His smile, however, changed its expression, and from its former frankness became mocking in its expression. You wished for an explanation, monsieur Raoul," inquired Montelet. It is surely worth one, I think. Mademoiselle de Lavalière made of honor to mademoiselle. Why should she not be made a maid of honor as well as myself? inquired Montelet. Pray, accept my compliments, young ladies," said Raoul, who fancy he perceived they were not disposed to answer him in a direct manner. Your remark was not made in a very complimentary manner, Vicomte. Mine? Certainly, I appeal to Louise. Monsieur de Bregelone probably thinks the position is above my condition, said Louise, hesitatingly. Assuredly not," replied Raoul eagerly. You know very well that such is not my feeling, where you called upon to occupy a queen's throne I should not be surprised. How much greater reason, then, such a position as this? The only circumstance that amazes me is that I should have learned it only today, and that by the nearest accident. That is true," replied Montelet with her usual giddiness. You know nothing about it, and there is no reason you should. Monsieur de Bregelone had written several letters to you, but your mother was the only person who remained behind at Blois, and it was necessary to prevent these letters falling into her hands. I intercepted them, and returned them to Monsieur Raoul, so that he believed you were still at Blois while you were here in Paris, and had no idea whatever, indeed, how high you had risen in rank. Did you not inform Monsieur Raoul as I begged you to do? Why should I? To give him an opportunity or making some of his severe remarks in moral reflections, and to undo what we had so much trouble in effecting? Certainly not. Am I so very severe, then? said Raoul inquiringly. Besides, said Montelet, it is sufficient to say that it suited me. I was about setting off for Paris. You were away. Louise was weeping her eyes out. Interpret that as you please. I begged a friend, a protector of mine, who had obtained the appointment for me to solicit one for Louise. The appointment arrived. Louise left in order to get her costume prepared, as I had my own ready. I remained behind. I received your letters, and returned them to you, adding a few words, promising you a surprise. Your surprise is before you, monsieur, and seems to be fair one enough. You have nothing more to ask. Come, Mr. Malicorn, it is now time to leave these young people together. They have many things to talk about. Give me your hand. I trust that you appreciate the honour conferred upon you, Mr. Malicorn. Forgive me! said Raoul, arresting the giddy girl and giving to his voice in intonation, the gravity of which contrasted with that of Montelet. Forgive me! But may I inquire the name of the protector you speak of, for if protection be extended toward you, mademoiselle Montelet, for which indeed so many reasons exist? added Raoul, bowing. I do not see that the same reasons exist why mademoiselle de la Valière should be similarly cared for. But, Mr. Raoul, said Louise innocently, there is no difference in the matter, and I do not see why I should not tell it to myself. It was Mr. Malicorn who obtained it for me. Raoul remained for a moment almost stupefied, asking himself if they were trifling with him. He then turned round to interrogate Malicorn, but he had been hurried away by Montelet and was already at some distance from them. Mademoiselle de la Valière attempted to follow her friend, but Raoul, with a gentle authority, detained her. Louise, one word I beg. But, Mr. Raoul, said Louise, blushing. We are alone. Everyone has left. They will become anxious and will be looking for us. Fear nothing, said the young man, smiling. We are neither of us of sufficient importance for our absence to be remarked. But I have my duty to perform, Mr. Raoul. Do not be alarmed. I am acquainted with these usages of the court. You will not be on duty until tomorrow. A few minutes are at your disposal, which will enable you to give me the information I am about to have the honour to ask you for. How serious you are, Mr. Raoul! Said Louise. Because the circumstances are serious. Are you listening? I am listening. I would only repeat, Mr., that we are quite alone. You are right. Said Raoul, and offering her his hand, he led the young girl into the gallery adjoining the reception room, the windows of which looked out upon the courtyard. Everyone hurried toward the middle window, which had a balcony outside, from which all the details of the slow and formal preparations for departure could be seen. Raoul opened one of the side windows, and then, being alone with Louise, said to her, You know, Louise, that from my childhood I have regarded you as my sister, as one who has been the confidant of all my troubles, to whom I have entrusted all my hopes. Yes, Mr. Raoul. She answered softly. Yes, Mr. Raoul, I know that. You used on your side to show the same friendship toward me, and had the same confidence in me. Why have you not on this occasion been my friend? Why have you shown suspicion of me? Manoiselle de la Valière did not answer. I fondly thought you loved me, said Raoul, whose voice became more and more agitated. I fondly thought you consented to all the plans we had together, laid down for our happiness at the time when we wandered up and down the walks of Coeur Chéveny, under the avenue of poplar trees leading to Bois. You do not answer me, Louise. Is it possible? He inquired, breathing with difficulty. That you no longer love me? I did not say so. Reply, Louise, softly. Oh, tell me the truth, I implore you. All my hopes and life are centered in you. I chose you for your gentle and simple tastes. Do not suffer yourself to be dazzled, Louise, now that you are in the midst of a court where all that is pure too soon becomes corrupt, where all that is young too soon grows old. Louise, close your ears, so as not to hear what may be said. Shut your eyes, so as not to see the examples before you. Shut your lips, that you may not inhale the corrupting influences about you. Without falsehood or subterfuge, Louise, am I to believe what mademoiselle de Montelet stated. Louise, did you come here to Paris because I was no longer at Bois? Lavalier blushed and concealed her face in her hands. Yes, it was so then, exclaimed Raoul delightedly. That was then your reason for coming here. I love you as I never yet loved you. Thanks, Louise, for this devotion, but measures must be taken to place you beyond all insult, to shield you from every lure. Louise, a maid of honour in the court of a young princess in these days, of free manners and inconstant affections, a maid of honour is placed as an object of attack, without having any means of defence afforded her. This state of things cannot continue. You must be married in order to be respected. Married? Yes. Here is my hand, Louise. Will you place yours within it? But your father. My father leaves me perfectly free. Yet? I understand your scruples, Louise. I will consult my father. Reflect, Mr. Raoul. Wait. Wait. It is impossible. Reflect, Louise, when you are concerned. It would be insulting. Give me your hand, dear Louise. I am my own master. My father will consent. I know. Give me your hand. Do not keep me waiting thus. One word in answer, one word only, if not. I shall begin to think that, in order to change you forever, nothing more was needed than a single step in the palace, a single breath of favour, a smile from the queen, a look from the king. Raoul had no sooner pronounced this latter word than Lavalier became his palest death, no doubt from fear at seeing the young man excite himself. With a movement as rapid as thought she placed both her hands in those of Raoul and then fled without adding a syllable, disappearing without casting a look behind her. Raoul felt his whole frame tremble at the contact of her hand. He received the compact as a solemn bargain, wrung by affection from her childlike timidity. End of Chapter 89 Recording by John Van Stan Savannah, Georgia Chapter 90 of the D'Artagnan Romances Volume 3 Part 1 by Alexander Dumas Translated by William Robson This Librivoxic Cording is in the Public Domain The Consent of Athos Raoul quitted the Palais Royale, full of ideas that admitted no delay in execution. He mounted his horse in the courtyard and followed the road of Blois, while the marriage festivities of Monsieur and the Princess of England were being celebrated with exceeding animation by the courtiers, but to the despair of D'Geish and Buckingham. Raoul lost no time on the road and in sixteen hours he arrived at Blois. As he traveled along he marshalled his arguments in the most becoming manner. Fever also is an argument that cannot be answered and Raoul had an attack. Athos was in his study, making additions to his memoirs, when Raoul entered accompanied by Grimaud. Keen cited in penetrating a mere glance at his son told him that something extraordinary had befallen him. You seem to come on a matter of importance, said he to Raoul, after he had embraced him, pointing to a seat. Yes, Monsieur, replied the young man. I entreat you to give me the same kind of attention that has never yet failed me. Speak, Raoul. I present the case to you, Monsieur, free from all preface, for that would be unworthy of you. Mademoiselle de Lavalier is in Paris as one of Madame's maids of honour. I have pondered deeply on the matter. I love Mademoiselle de Lavalier above everything, and it is not proper to leave her in a position where her reputation, her virtue even, may be assailed. It is my wish, therefore, to marry her, Monsieur, and I have come to solicit your consent to my marriage. While this communication was being made to him, Athos maintained the profoundest silence and reserve. Raoul, who had begun his address with an assumption of self-possession, finished it by allowing a manifest emotion to escape him at every word. Athos fixed upon Bragalona's searching look, overshadowed indeed by a slight sadness. You have reflected well upon it. He inquired. Yes, Monsieur. I believe you are already acquainted with my views respecting this alliance. Yes, Monsieur. Replied, Raoul, in a low tone of voice. But you added that if I persisted, you do persist then. Bragalona stammered out in almost unintelligible assent. Your passion, continued Athos tranquilly, must indeed be very great, since notwithstanding my dislike to this union, you persist in wishing it. Raoul passed his trembling hand across his forehead to remove the perspiration that collected there. Athos looked at him and his heart was touched by pity. He rose and said, It is no matter. My own personal feelings are not to be taken into consideration since yours are concerned. You need my assistance. I am ready to give it. Tell me what you want. Your kind indulgence, first of all, Monsieur, said Raoul, taking hold of his hand. You have mistaken my feelings, Raoul. I have more than mere indulgence for you in my heart. Raoul kissed as devotedly as a lover could have done the hand he held in his own. Come, come, said Athos. I am quite ready. What do you wish me to sign? Nothing, whatever, Monsieur. Only it would be very kind if you would take the trouble to write to the king, to whom I belong, and solicit his majesty's permission for me to marry mademoiselle de la Valière. Well thought, Raoul, after or rather before myself, you have a master to consult, that master being the king. It is loyal in you to submit yourself voluntarily to this double proof. I will grant your request without delay, Raoul. The count approached the window and leaning out called to Grimaud, who showed his head from an arbor covered with jasmine, which he was occupied in trimming. My horse is Grimaud, continued the count. Why this order, Monsieur? inquired Raoul. We shall set off in a few hours. Wither? For Paris. Paris, Monsieur? Is not the king at Paris? Certainly. Well, ought we not to go there? Yes, Monsieur, said Raoul, almost alarmed by this kind condescension. I do not ask you to put yourself to such inconvenience and a letter nearly. You mistake my position, Raoul. It is not respectful that a simple gentleman such as I am should write to his sovereign. I wish to speak. I ought to speak to the king, and will do so. We will go together, Raoul. You overpower me with your kindness, Monsieur. How do you think his majesty is affected? Toward me, Monsieur? Yes. Excellently well disposed. You know that to be so? continued the count. The king as himself told me so. On what occasion? Upon the recommendation of Monsieur d'Artagnan, I believe, and on account of an affair in the Place de Greve, when I had the honour to draw my sword in the king's service, I have reason to believe that, vanity apart, I stand well with his majesty. So much the better. But I entreat you, Monsieur? Pursued, Raoul. Not to maintain toward me your present grave in serious manner. Do not make me bitterly regret having listened to a feeling stronger than anything else. That is the second time you have said so, Raoul. It was quite unnecessary. You require my formal consent, and you have it. We need talk no more on the subject, therefore. Come and see my new plantations, Raoul. The young man knew very well that, after the expression of his father's wish, no opportunity of discussion was left him. He bowed his head and followed his father into the garden. Athos slowly pointed out to him the grafts, the cuttings, and the avenues he was planting. This perfect repose of manner disconcerted Raoul extremely. The effectation with which his own heart was filled seemed so great that the whole world could hardly contain it. How then could his father's heart remain void and close to its influence? Bregalon, therefore, collecting all his courage, suddenly exclaimed, It is impossible, Monsieur. You can have any reason to reject Mademoiselle de la Valière in Heaven's name. She is so good, so gentle, and pure that your mind, so perfect in its penetration, ought to appreciate her accordingly. Does any secret repugnance or any hereditary dislike exist between you and her family? Look, Raoul, at that beautiful lily of the valley. Said Athos, observe how the shade and the damp situation suit it. Particularly the shadow which that sycamore tree casts over it, so that the warmth and not the blazing heat of the sun filters through its leaves. Raoul stopped, bit his lips, and then with the blood mantling in his face, he said courageously, One word of explanation, I beg, Monsieur. You cannot forget that your son is a man. In that case, replied Athos, drawing himself up with sturdiness, Prove to me that you are a man, for you do not show yourself a son. I begged you to wait the opportunity of forming an illustrious alliance. I would have obtained a wife for you from the first ranks of the rich nobility. I wish you to be distinguished by the splendor which glory and fortune confer. For nobility of dissent you have already. Monsieur, exclaimed Raoul, carried away by a first impulse. I was reproached the other day for not knowing who my mother was. Athos turned pale, then knitting his brows like the greatest of all the heathen deities. I am waiting to learn the reply you made. He demanded in an imperious manner. Forgive me. Oh, forgive me. murmured the young man, sinking at once from the lofty tone he had assumed. What was your reply, Monsieur? Inquired the count, stamping his feet upon the ground. Monsieur, my sword was in my hand immediately. My adversary placed himself on guard. I struck his sword over the palisade and threw him in after it. Why did you suffer him to live? The king has prohibited dueling, and at that moment I was an ambassador of the king. Very well, said Athos, but all the greater reason I should see is majesty. What do you intend to ask him? Authority to draw my sword against the man who has inflicted this injury upon me. If I did not act as I thought to have done, I beg you to forgive me. Did I reproach you, Rahul? Still, the permission you are going to ask from the king? I will implore his majesty to sign your marriage contract, but on one condition. Are conditions necessary with me, Monsieur? Command, and you shall be obeyed. One condition, I repeat, continued Athos, that you tell me the name of the man who spoke of your mother in that way. What need is there that you should know his name? The offense was directed against myself, and the permission once obtained from his majesty to revenge it is my affair. Tell me his name, Monsieur. I will not allow you to expose yourself. Do you take me for a dung, Diego? His name, I say. You insist upon it. I demand it. Livicompte de Ward. Very well, said Athos, tranquilly. I know him, but our horses already I see, and instead of delaying our departure for a couple of hours, we will set off at once. Come, Monsieur. End of Chapter 90. Recording by John Van Stan. Savannah, Georgia