Ten Years Later

by Alexandre Dumas

  The next day the fetes took place, accompanied by all the pomp andanimation that the resources of the town and the cheerful dispositionof men's minds could supply. During the last few hours spent in Havre,every preparation for the departure had been made. After Madame hadtaken leave of the English fleet, and, once again, had saluted thecountry in saluting its flags, she entered her carriage, surrounded by abrilliant escort. De Guiche had hoped that the Duke of Buckinghamwould accompany the admiral to England; but Buckingham succeeded indemonstrating to the queen that there would be great impropriety inallowing Madame to proceed to Paris almost unprotected. As soon as ithad been settled that Buckingham was to accompany Madame, the youngduke selected a corps of gentlemen and officers to form part of his ownsuite, so that it was almost an army that now set out towards Paris,scattering gold, and exciting the liveliest demonstrations as theypassed through the different towns and villages on the route. Theweather was very fine. France is a beautiful country, especially alongthe route by which the procession passed. Spring cast its flowers andits perfumed foliage on their path. Normandy, with its vast variety ofvegetation, its blue skies and silver rivers, displayed itself in allthe loveliness of a paradise to the new sister of the king. Fetes andbrilliant displays received them everywhere along the line of march.De Guiche and Buckingham forgot everything; De Guiche in his anxiety toprevent any fresh attempts on the part of the duke, and Buckingham, inhis desire to awaken in the heart of the princess a softer remembranceof the country to which the recollection of many happy days belonged.But, alas! the poor duke could perceive that the image of that countryso cherished by himself became, from day to day, more and more effacedin Madame's mind, in exact proportion as her affection for France becamemore deeply engraved on her heart. In fact, it was not difficult toperceive that his most devoted attention awakened no acknowledgment,and that the grace with which he rode one of his most fiery horses wasthrown away, for it was only casually and by the merest accident thatthe princess's eyes were turned towards him. In vain did he try,in order to fix upon himself one of those looks, which were throwncarelessly around, or bestowed elsewhere, to produce in the animal herode its greatest display of strength, speed, temper and address; invain did he, by exciting his horse almost to madness, spur him, at therisk of dashing himself in pieces against the trees, or of rolling inthe ditches, over the gates and barriers which they passed, or down thesteep declivities of the hills. Madame, whose attention had been arousedby the noise, turned her head for a moment to observe the cause of it,and then, slightly smiling, again entered into conversation with herfaithful guardians, Raoul and De Guiche, who were quietly riding at hercarriage doors. Buckingham felt himself a prey to all the tortures ofjealousy; an unknown, unheard of anguish glided through his veins, andlaid siege to his heart; and then, as if to show that he knew thefolly of his conduct, and that he wished to correct, by the humblestsubmission, his flights of absurdity, he mastered his horse, andcompelled him, reeking with sweat and flecked with foam, to champhis bit close beside the carriage, amidst the crowd of courtiers.Occasionally he obtained a word from Madame as a recompense, and yet herspeech 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 instinctivelyfelt, without having had any proof that such was the case, that Raoulchecked the display of De Guiche's feelings, and that, had it notbeen for Raoul, some mad act or proceeding, either of the count, orof Buckingham himself, would have brought about an open rupture, or adisturbance--perhaps even exile itself. From the moment of that excitedconversation the two young men had held in front of the tents at Havre,when Raoul made the duke perceive the impropriety of his conduct,Buckingham felt himself attracted towards Raoul almost in spite ofhimself. He often entered into conversation with him, and it was nearlyalways to talk to him either of his father or of D'Artagnan, theirmutual friend, in whose praise Buckingham was nearly as enthusiastic asRaoul. Raoul endeavored, as much as possible, to make the conversationturn upon this subject in De Wardes's presence, who had, during thewhole journey, been exceedingly annoyed at the superior position takenby Bragelonne, and especially by his influence over De Guiche. De Wardeshad that keen and merciless penetration most evil natures possess; hehad immediately remarked De Guiche's melancholy, and divined the natureof his regard for the princess. Instead, however, of treating thesubject with the same reserve which Raoul practiced; instead ofregarding with that respect, which was their due, the obligationsand duties of society, De Wardes resolutely attacked in the count theever-sounding chord of juvenile audacity and pride. It happened oneevening, during a halt at Nantes, that while De Guiche and De Wardeswere leaning against a barrier, engaged in conversation, Buckingham andRaoul were also talking together as they walked up and down. Manicampwas engaged in devoted attendance on the princess, who already treatedhim without reserve, on account of his versatile fancy, his frankcourtesy of manner, and conciliatory disposition.

  "Confess," said De Wardes, "that you are really ill and that yourpedagogue 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, De Wardes."

  "Madness it would be, I admit, if Madame were really indifferent to yourmartyrdom; but she takes so much notice of it, observes it to such anextent, that she compromises herself, and I tremble lest, on our arrivalat Paris, M. de Bragelonne may not denounce both of you."

  "For shame, De Wardes, again attacking De Bragelonne."

  "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, youmust have observed how the princess's glance softens as she looks atyou;--you can tell, by the very inflection of her voice, what pleasureshe takes in listening to you, and can feel how thoroughly sheappreciates the verses you recite to her. You cannot deny, too, thatevery morning she tells you how indifferently she slept the previousnight."

  "True, De Wardes, quite true; but what good is there in your telling meall 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 onemad."

  "Stay, stay," said De Wardes; "look, she calls you,--do you understand?Profit by the occasion, while your pedagogue is absent."

  De Guiche could not resist; an invincible attraction drew him towardsthe princess. De Wardes smiled as he saw him withdraw.

  "You are mistaken, monsieur," said Raoul, suddenly stepping acrossthe barrier against which the previous moment the two friends had beenleaning. "The pedagogue is here, and has overheard you."

  De Wardes, at the sound of Raoul's voice, which he recognized withouthaving occasion to look at him, half drew his sword.

  "Put up your sword," said Raoul, "you know perfectly well that, untilour 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 allthe bitterness that infects your own? As regards myself, you wish toarouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor--my father'sfriend and my own: and as for the count you wish him to love one whois destined for your master. Really, monsieur, I should regard you asa coward, and a traitor too, if I did not, with greater justice, regardyou as a madman."

  "Monsieur," exclaimed De Wardes, exasperated, "I was deceived, I find,in terming you a pedagogue. The tone you assume, and the style whichis peculiarly your own, is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman.Discontinue, I beg, whenever I am present, this style I complain of, andthe tone also. I hate M. d'Artagnan because he was guilty of a cowardlyact towards my father."

  "You lie, monsieur," said Raoul, coolly.

  "You give me the lie, monsieur?" exclaimed De Wardes.

  "Why not, if what you assert is untrue?"

  "You give me the lie and
will not draw your sword?"

  "I have resolved, monsieur, not to kill you until Madame shall have beendelivered safely into her husband's hands."

  "Kill me! Believe me, monsieur, your schoolmaster's rod does not kill soeasily."

  "No," replied Raoul, sternly, "but M. d'Artagnan's sword kills; and, notonly do I possess his sword, but he has himself taught me how to use it:and with that sword, when a befitting time arrives, I will avenge hisname---a name you have dishonored."

  "Take care, monsieur," exclaimed De Wardes; "if you do not immediatelygive me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revengemyself."

  "Indeed, monsieur," said Buckingham, suddenly, appearing upon thescene of action, "that is a threat which savors of assassination, andtherefore, ill becomes a gentleman."

  "What did you say, my lord?" said De Wardes, turning round towards him.

  "I said, monsieur, that the words you spoken are displeasing to myEnglish ears."

  "Very well, monsieur, if what you say is true," exclaimed De Wardes,thoroughly incensed, "I at least find in you one who will not escape me.Understand my words as you like."

  "I take them in the manner they cannot but be understood," repliedBuckingham, with that haughty tone which characterized him, and which,even in ordinary conversation, gave a tone of defiance to everything hesaid; "M. de Bragelonne is my friend, you insult M. de Bragelonne, andyou shall give me satisfaction for that insult."

  De Wardes cast a look upon De Bragelonne, who, faithful to the characterhe had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke'sdefiance.

  "It would seem that I did not insult M. de Bragelonne, since M. deBragelonne, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himselfinsulted."

  "At all events you insult some one."

  "Yes, I insulted M. d'Artagnan," resumed De Wardes, who had observedthat this was the only means of stinging Raoul, so as to awaken hisanger.

  "That then," said Buckingham, "is another matter."

  "Precisely so," said De Wardes, "it is the province of M. d'Artagnan'sfriends to defend him."

  "I am entirely of your opinion," replied the duke, who had regained allhis indifference of manner; "if M. de Bragelonne were offended, I couldnot reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himselfhere; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M. d'Artagnan----"

  "You will of course leave me to deal with the matter," said De Wardes.

  "Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword," said Buckingham,unsheathing it as he spoke; "for if M. d'Artagnan injured your father,he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a greatservice to mine."

  De Wardes was thunderstruck.

  "M. d'Artagnan," continued Buckingham, "is the bravest gentleman I know.I shall be delighted, as I owe him many personal obligations, to settlethem with you, by crossing my sword with yours." At the same momentBuckingham drew his sword gracefully from its scabbard, saluted Raoul,and put himself on guard.

  De Wardes advanced a step to meet him.

  "Stay, gentlemen," said Raoul, advancing towards them, and placing hisown drawn sword between the combatants, "the affair is hardly worth thetrouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess.M. de Wardes speaks ill of M. d'Artagnan, with whom he is not evenacquainted."

  "What, monsieur," said De Wardes, setting his teeth hard together, andresting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot, "do you assertthat I do not know M. d'Artagnan?"

  "Certainly not; you do not know him," replied Raoul, coldly, "and youare even not aware where he is to he found."

  "Not know where he is?"

  "Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him uponstrangers, instead of seeking M. d'Artagnan where he is to be found." DeWardes turned pale. "Well, monsieur," continued Raoul, "I will tell youwhere M. d'Artagnan is: he is now in Paris; when on duty he is to bemet with at the Louvre,--when not on duty, in the Rue des Lombards.M. d'Artagnan can be easily discovered at either of those two places.Having, therefore, as you assert, so many causes of complaint againsthim, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunityof giving you that satisfaction you seem to ask of every one but ofhimself." De Wardes passed his hand across his forehead, which wascovered with perspiration. "For shame, M. de Wardes! so quarrelsomea disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of the edictsagainst duels. Pray think of that; the king will be incensed at ourdisobedience, particularly at such a time,--and his majesty will be inthe right."

  "Excuses," murmured De Wardes; "mere pretexts."

  "Really, M. De Wardes," resumed Raoul, "such remarks are the idlestbluster. You know very well that the Duke of Buckingham is a man ofundoubted courage, who has already fought ten duels, and will probablyfight eleven. His name alone is significant enough. As far as I amconcerned, you are well aware that I can fight also. I fought at Sens,at Bleneau, at the Dunes in front of the artillery, a hundred paces infront of the line, while you--I say this parenthetically--were a hundredpaces behind it. True it is, that on that occasion there was far toogreat a concourse of persons present for your courage to be observed,and on that account, perhaps, you did not reveal it; while here, itwould be a display, and would excite remark--you wish that others shouldtalk about you, in what manner you do not care. Do not depend upon me,M. de Wardes, to assist you in your designs, for I shall certainly notafford you that pleasure."

  "Sensibly observed," said Buckingham, putting up his sword, "and I askyour forgiveness, M. de Bragelonne, for having allowed myself to yieldto a first impulse."

  De Wardes, however, on the contrary, perfectly furious, bounded forwardand raised his sword, threateningly, against Raoul, who had scarcelytime to put himself in a posture of defense.

  "Take care, monsieur," said Bragelonne, tranquilly, "or you will put outone of my eyes."

  "You will not fight, then?" said De Wardes.

  "Not at this moment, but this I promise to do; immediately on ourarrival at Paris I will conduct you to M. d'Artagnan, to whom you shalldetail all the causes of complaint you have against him. M. d'Artagnanwill solicit the king's permission to measure swords with you. Theking will yield his consent, and when you shall have received thesword-thrust in due course, you will consider, in a calmer frameof mind, the precepts of the Gospel, which enjoin forgetfulness ofinjuries."

  "Ah!" exclaimed De Wardes, furious at this imperturbable coolness, "onecan clearly see you are half a bastard, M. de Bragelonne."

  Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning, causing DeWardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham, also, who had perceivedtheir expression, threw himself between the two adversaries, whom hehad expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes hadreserved this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in hishand, and awaited the encounter. "You are right, monsieur," said Raoul,mastering his emotion, "I am only acquainted with my father's name, butI know too well that the Comte de la Fere is too upright and honorablea man to allow me to fear for a single moment that there is, as youinsinuate, any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of mymother's name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach. You aredeficient in loyalty of conduct; you are wanting in courtesy, inreproaching me with misfortune. It matters little, however, the insulthas been given, and I consider myself insulted accordingly. It is quiteunderstood, then, that after you shall have received satisfaction fromM. d'Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me."

  "I admire your prudence, monsieur," replied De Wardes with a bittersmile; "a little while ago you promised me a sword-thrust from M.d'Artagnan, and now, after I shall have received his, you offer me onefrom yourself."

  "Do not disturb yourself," replied Raoul, with concentrated anger, "inall affairs of that nature, M. d'Artagnan is exceedingly skillful, andI will beg him as a favor to treat you as he did your father; in otherwords, to spare your life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure,after your recovery, of killing you outright; for you have the heart ofa viper, M. de Wardes
, and in very truth, too many precautions cannot betaken against you."

  "I shall take my precautions against you," said De Wardes, "be assuredof it."

  "Allow me, monsieur," said Buckingham, "to translate your remark by apiece of advice I am about to give M. de Bragelonne; M. de Bragelonne,wear a cuirass."

  De Wardes clenched his hands. "Ah!" said he, "you two gentlemen intendto wait until you have taken that precaution before you measure yourswords against mine."

  "Very well, monsieur," said Raoul, "since you positively will have itso, let us settle the affair now." And drawing his sword he advancedtowards De Wardes.

  "What are you going to do?" said Buckingham.

  "Be easy," said Raoul, "it will not be very long."

  De Wardes placed himself on his guard; their swords crossed. De Wardesflew upon Raoul with such impetuosity, that at the first clashing of thesteel blades Buckingham clearly saw that Raoul was only trifling withhis adversary. Buckingham stepped aside, and watched the combat. Raoulwas as calm as if he were handling a foil, instead of a sword; havingretreated a step, he parried three or four fierce thrusts which DeWardes made at him, caught the sword of the latter within his own, andsent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as DeWardes stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat Raoul sheathed hissword, seized him by the collar and the waist-band, and hurled hisadversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with rage.

  "We shall meet again," murmured De Wardes, rising from the ground andpicking up his sword.

  "I have done nothing for the last hour," said Raoul, "but say the samething." Then, turning towards the duke, he said, "I entreat you to besilent about this affair; I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my angercarried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it;--forget it, too."

  "Dear viscount," said the duke, pressing within his own the vigorous andvaliant hand of his companion, "allow me, on the contrary, to rememberit, and to look after your safety; that man is dangerous,--he will killyou."

  "My father," replied Raoul, "lived for twenty years under the menace ofa much more formidable enemy, and he still lives."

  "Your father had good friends, viscount."

  "Yes," sighed Raoul, "such friends indeed, that none are now left likethem."

  "Do not say that, I beg, at the very moment I offer you my friendship;"and Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Raoul, who delightedlyreceived the proffered alliance. "In my family," added Buckingham, "youare aware, M. de Bragelonne, we die to save our friends."

  "I know it well, duke," replied Raoul.

  CHAPTER 88. An Account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine thought ofMadame