The Vicomte de Bragelonne - Alexandre Dumas

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deuce! certainly not!" said Saint-Aignan. "Mademoiselle de la Valliere is an angel."

      "Virtue and purity itself," said Manicamp.

      "You see, Monsieur de Wardes," said Guiche, "I am not the only one who undertakes the defense of that poor girl. I entreat you, therefore, messieurs, a second time, to leave us. You see, it is impossible we could be more calm and composed than we are."

      It was the very thing the courtiers wished; some went out at one door, and the rest at the other, and the two young men were left alone.

      "Well played," said De Wardes, to the comte.

      "Was it not?" replied the latter.

      "How can it be wondered at, my dear fellow; I have got quite rusty in the country, while the command you have acquired over yourself, comte, confounds me; a man always gains something in women's society; so, pray accept my congratulations."

      "I do accept them."

      "And I will make Madame a present of them."

      "And now, my dear Monsieur de Wardes, let us speak as loud as you please."

      "Do not defy me."

      "I do defy you, for you are known to be an evil-minded man; if you do that, you will be looked upon as a coward, too; and Monsieur would have you hanged this evening at his window-casement. Speak, my dear De Wardes, speak."

      "I have fought already."

      "But not quite enough, yet."

      "I see, you would not be sorry to fight with me while my wounds are still open."

      "No; better still."

      "The deuce! you are unfortunate in the moment you have chosen; a duel, after the one I have just fought, would hardly suit me: I have lost too much blood at Boulogne: at the slightest effort my wounds would open again, and you would really have too good a bargain with me."

      "True," said Guiche: "and yet, on your arrival here, your looks and your arms showed there was nothing the matter with you."

      "Yes, my arms are all right, but my legs are weak; and then, I have not had a foil in my hand since that devil of a duel; and you, I am sure, have been fencing every day, in order to carry your little conspiracy against me to a successful issue."

      "Upon my honor, monsieur," replied De Guiche, "it is six months since I last practiced."

      "No, comte, after due reflection, I will not fight, at least with you. I shall await Bragelonne's return, since you say that it is Bragelonne who has fault to find with me."

      "Oh, no, indeed!—You shall not wait until Bragelonne's return," exclaimed the comte, losing all command over himself, "for you have said that Bragelonne might, possibly, be some time before he returns; and, in the meanwhile, your wicked insinuations would have had their effect."

      "Yet, I shall have my excuse. So take care."

      "I will give you a week to finish your recovery."

      "That is better. So let us wait a week."

      "Yes, yes, I understand; a week will give time to my adversary to make his escape. No, no; I will not give you one day, even."

      "You are mad, monsieur," said De Wardes, retreating a step.

      "And you are a coward, if you do not fight willingly. Nay, what is more, I will denounce you to the king, as having refused to fight, after having insulted La Valliere."

      "Ah!" said De Wardes, "you are dangerously treacherous, though you pass for a man of honor."

      "There is nothing more dangerous than the treachery, as you term it, of the man whose conduct is always loyal and upright."

      "Restore me the use of my legs, then, or get yourself bled, till you are as white as I am, so as to equalize our chances."

      "No, no; I have something better than that to propose."

      "What is it?"

      "We will fight on horseback, and will exchange three pistol-shots each. You are a first-rate marksman. I have seen you bring down swallows with single balls, and at full gallop. Do not deny it, for I have seen you myself."

      "I believe you are right," said De Wardes; "and as that is the case, it is not unlikely I might kill you."

      "You would be rendering me a very great service, if you did."

      "I will do my best."

      "Is it agreed? Give me your hand upon it."

      "There it is;—but on one condition, however."

      "Name it."

      "That not a word shall be said about it to the king."

      "Not a word, I swear."

      "I shall go and get my horse, then."

      "And I, mine."

      "Where shall we meet?"

      "In the open plain: I know an admirable place."

      "Shall we go together?"

      "Why not?"

      And both of them, on their way to the stables, passed beneath Madame's windows, which were faintly lighted; a shadow could be seen behind the lace curtains. "There is a woman," said De Wardes, smiling, "who does not suspect that we are going to fight—to die, perhaps, on her account."

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      De Wardes and De Guiche selected their horses, and then saddled them with their own hands, with holster saddles. De Guiche, having two pairs of pistols, went to his apartments to get them; and after having loaded them, gave the choice to De Wardes, who selected the pair he had made use of twenty times before, the same, indeed, with which De Guiche had seen him kill swallows flying. "You will not be surprised," he said, "if I take every precaution. You know the weapons well, and, consequently, I am only making the chances equal."

      "Your remark was quite useless," replied De Guiche, "and you have done no more than you are entitled to do."

      "Now," said De Wardes, "I beg you to have the goodness to help me to mount; for I still experience a little difficulty in doing so."

      "In that case, we had better settle the matter on foot."

      "No; once in the saddle, I shall be all right."

      "Very good, then; so we will not speak of it again," said De Guiche, as he assisted De Wardes to mount his horse.

      "And now," continued the young man, "in our eagerness to kill each other, we have neglected one circumstance."

      "What is that?"

      "That it is quite dark, and we shall almost be obliged to grope about, in order to kill each other."

      "Oh!" said De Guiche, "you are as anxious as I am that everything should be done in proper order."

      "Yes; but I do not wish people to say that you have assassinated me, any more than, supposing I were to kill you, I should myself like to be accused of such a crime."

      "Did any one make a similar remark about your duel with the Duke of Buckingham?" said De Guiche, "it took place precisely under the same conditions as ours."

      "Very true; but there was still light enough to see by; and we were up to our middles, almost, in the water; besides, there were a good number of spectators on shore, looking at us."

      De

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