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as makes a man understand that he has gained a mortal enemy. Then, resuming his soft air, “You guess wrong, comrades,” said he; “this handkerchief is not mine, and I know not why this gentleman has had the fancy to give it to me, rather than to one of you; and as a proof of what I say, here is my own in my pocket.” So saying, he drew from his pocket his own handkerchief, a very handsome one, of fine cambric, although cambric at that time was very dear; but it was without embroidery, without arms, and adorned with a simple cipher, that of its owner.

      This time d’Artagnan was silent. He had discovered his mistake. But the friends of Aramis would not allow themselves to be convinced by his denial; and one of them, addressing the young musketeer with an affected air of solemnity, said—

      “If the fact is as you assert, my dear Aramis, I shall be compelled to demand possession of the handkerchief, de Bois Tracy being, as you are aware, one of my most intimate friends, and I should not wish any one to display his wife’s property by way of a trophy.”

      “You make this demand with a bad grace,” replied Aramis; “and on this ground alone, even were I to admit its justice fundamentally, I should still refuse compliance with your request.”

      “The fact is,” modestly observed d’Artagnan, “I did not see the handkerchief fall from the pocket of M. Aramis; he had his foot upon it, however, and hence my reason for supposing that it belonged to him.”

      “And you were mistaken, sir,” coldly replied Aramis, not very grateful for the apology. Then, turning to the guardsman who had avowed himself the friend of de Bois Tracy, he added, “Besides, on reflection, my worthy comrade, I am the friend of de Bois Tracy as well as yourself, and this handkerchief, strictly speaking, might have come from your pocket as well as from mine.”

      “No, upon my honour,” said the musketeer.

      “You swear by your honour, and I pledge my word; therefore one of us must evidently lie. But come, Monterau, let us do something better than indulge in counter assertions and denials: let each of us take half.”

      “Of the handkerchief?”

      “Yes.”

      “Perfectly fair,” cried the other two guardsmen; “decidedly the judgment of Solomon. Aramis, you are certainly cram-ful of wisdom!” exclaimed the young men, indulging in hearty laughter; and the affair, as may be imagined, was thus deprived of further importance. Immediately afterwards the conversation ceased, and the friends separated, with a cordial shaking of hands, the three guardsmen going one way, and Aramis another.

      “Now is my opportunity for making my peace with this gentleman,” mentally ejaculated d’Artagnan, who had kept somewhat aloof during the latter part of the conversation, and who now, impelled by this good feeling, approached Aramis, who was departing without taking any further notice of him.

      “I hope, sir, that you will excuse me,” said he, addressing Aramis.

      “Sir,” rejoined the latter, “you must permit me to remark, that you have not acted in this affair as a man of good breeding ought to have done.”

      “What inference, sir, am I to draw from your remark?”

      “Why, sir, I take it for granted that you are not a fool; and that, although coming from Gascony, you must be well aware that no one walks upon pocket-handkerchiefs without sufficient reason for so doing. Zounds, sir, Paris is not paved with cambric!”

      “You do me injustice, sir, in thus endeavouring to mortify me,” said d’Artagnan, in whom the inherent love of quarrelling began to operate much more forcibly than his previous pacific intentions. “I am a Gascon, it is true; and, as you do not require to be informed, the Gascons are not very long-suffering; therefore, when they have once apologised, even should it be for some imprudence, they consider that they have done one half more than they ought to do.”

      “What I have said to you, sir,” retorted Aramis, “is not for the purpose of seeking a quarrel with you. Thank God! I am no bully; and being a musketeer only temporarily, I never fight except when I am compelled, and then with the utmost reluctance. This, however, is a serious affair, for a lady here is compromised by you.”

      “Say rather by us,” cried d’Artagnan.

      “Why did you perpetrate such a stupid blunder as to give me this handkerchief?”

      “Why were you so stupid as to let it fall?”

      “I have declared, and I repeat, sir, that this handkerchief did not come from my pocket.”

      “Well, then, you have twice lied; for I myself saw it fall from your pocket.”

      “Ah, is this the tone you choose to assume, Sir Gascon? Well, I must teach you how to behave better.”

      “And I will send you back to your missal, M. Abbé; so draw, if you please, this instant?”

      “No, I thank you, my fine fellow; not here, at any rate. Do you not perceive that we are opposite the hotel d’Aiguillon, which is full of the cardinal’s creatures. In fact, who can say that it is not his eminence who has commissioned you to procure my head for him. Now, as it happens that I entertain what may appear to you a ridiculous affection for my head, provided it remains tolerably firm on my shoulders, I wish, before parting with it, to kill you. But keep yourself quite easy on that score; I will kill you at leisure, in a retired and secret spot, where you may not be able to boast of your death to any one.”

      “I am quite agreeable,” replied d’Artagnan; “but do not be puffed up; and here, take away your handkerchief, whether it belongs to you or not; probably you may have tears to dry.”

      “Spoken like a true Gascon, sir,” said Aramis.

      “Yes; but that is no reason why you should delay our little affair, unless, indeed, you are influenced by more prudential motives.”

      “I know well that prudence, although indispensable to churchmen, is a virtue unknown to the musketeers,” replied Aramis, “and being, as I have informed you, only a soldier temporarily, I am resolved to remain prudent. At two o’clock I shall have the honour of awaiting you at the hotel of M. de Treville, whence I will conduct you to a more convenient spot.”

      The two young men then bowed to each other, and parted. Aramis proceeded towards the Luxembourg; whilst d’Artagnan, finding that the time approached, took the road to the Carmes Deschaux, all the while inwardly ejaculating—“Positively, I cannot escape! but at all events, if I am killed, it will be by a musketeer.”

       5 The King’s Musketeers and the Cardinal’s Guards

      D’ARTAGNAN WAS FRIEND LESS in Paris. He therefore went to meet Athos without being provided with a second, having made up his mind to be satisfied with those which accompanied his adversary. Besides, he fully intended to offer the brave musketeer all suitable apologies, but, at the same time, to betray nothing having the slightest appearance of timidity or weakness. He also feared such a result from this duel as may be naturally anticipated in an affair of the kind, where a young and vigorous man fights with an opponent who is wounded and enfeebled; and in which, should the former be vanquished, the triumph of his opponent is doubled; whilst, should the former prove the conqueror, he is not only accused of being brave at small risk, but even his courage is regarded as extremely doubtful. Moreover, unless we have been unsuccessful in our attempt to portray the true character of our adventurer, the reader must have already remarked, that d’Artagnan was no common type. Therefore, although he could not divest himself of the idea that his death was inevitable, he had by no means resolved quietly to resign himself to his fate with that patience which another less courageous than himself might perhaps have displayed in such a case. He pondered upon the different characters of those with whom he was about to engage, and at length began to obtain a clearer view of his situation. By means of the sincere apology which he contemplated, he hoped to conciliate Athos, whose aristocratic air and austere manner quite delighted him.

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