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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 Guiche, now rather pale, “that I caused 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 is such as you will respect,” said Buckingham, placing his hand on his sword.

      At this moment, and as the goddess of Discord, inflaming 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 honor 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?”

      “You 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 extravagances very much resemble the excesses of jealousy? These jealous fits, with respect to any woman, are not becoming in one who is 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 Bragelonne, coldly, “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.”

      “Are you 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?”

      “Weigh your words well, my lord,” said Raoul, haughtily; “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 Comte de la Fere, my lord, and I never threaten, 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 towards 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 paler than the lace collar around his neck. “M. de Bragelonne,” 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, M. de Bragelonne,” murmured the duke, in a voice, half-choked, and 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 Raoul, 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; and which he half drew from his breast.

      Raoul 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, “M. de Bragelonne, 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 Raoul’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. De Guiche, 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 procession of the princess arrived, and had it not been for Bragelonne, two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and blood would have been shed upon the flowers with which the ground was covered. At the appearance, however, of the banners borne at the head of the procession, complete order was restored.

      Chapter XI. Night

      Concord returned to its place amidst 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

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