told you, I have hired all the houses looking on the square.”
“We are 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 this square is his majesty’s; 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 order them to be removed.”
A hoarse and angry murmur ran through the crowd of listeners at these words. De Guiche 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 Wardes 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, inasmuch 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 Guiche.
“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 Guiche, “and why?”
“Because I object to them.”
A movement of impatience escaped De Guiche, 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 Le Havre, 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 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
