his own in every particular, with the addition of a courage he did not himself possess, received De Wardes with a greater display of regard and affection than even Monsieur had done. De Guiche, as we have said, was there also, but kept a little in the background, waiting very patiently until all these embraces were over. De Wardes, while talking to the others, and even to Monsieur himself, had not for a moment lost sight of De Guiche, who, he instinctively felt, was there on his account. As soon as he had finished with the others, he went up to De Guiche. They both exchanged the most courteous compliments, after which De Wardes returned to Monsieur and to the other gentlemen. In the midst of these congratulations Madame was announced. She had been informed of De Wardes' arrival, and knowing all the details of his voyage and of his duel, she was not sorry to be present at the remarks she knew would be made, without delay, by one who, she felt assured, was her personal enemy. Two or three of her ladies accompanied her. De Wardes saluted Madame in the most graceful and respectful manner, and, as a commencement of hostilities, announced, in the first place, that he could furnish the Duke of Buckingham's friends with the latest news about him.
This was a direct answer to the coldness with which Madame had received him. The attack was a vigorous one, and Madame felt the blow, but without appearing to have even noticed it. He rapidly cast a glance at Monsieur and at De Guiche—the former had colored, and the latter had turned very pale. Madame alone had preserved an unmoved countenance; but, as she knew how many unpleasant thoughts and feelings her enemy could awaken in the two persons who were listening to him, she smilingly bent forward toward the traveler, as if to listen to the news he had brought, but he was speaking of other matters. Madame was brave, even to imprudence; if she were to retreat, it would be inviting an attack; so, after the first disagreeable impression had passed away, she returned to the charge.
"Have you suffered much from your wounds, Monsieur de Wardes?" she inquired, "for we have been told that you had the misfortune to get wounded."
It was now De Wardes' turn to wince; he bit his lips and replied, "No, madame, hardly at all."
"Indeed, and yet in this terribly hot weather—"
"The sea breezes are fresh and cool, madame, and then I had one consolation."
"Indeed. What was it?"
"The knowledge that my adversary's sufferings were still greater than my own."
"Ah! you mean he was more seriously wounded than you were; I was not aware of that," said the princess, with utter indifference.
"Oh! madame, you are mistaken, or rather you pretend to misunderstand my remark. I did not say that he was more suffering in body than myself; but his heart was seriously affected."
De Guiche comprehended in what direction the struggle was approaching; he ventured to make a sign to Madame, as if entreating her to retire from the contest. But she, without acknowledging De Guiche's gesture, without pretending to have noticed it even, and still smiling, continued:
"Is it possible," she said, "that the Duke of Buckingham's heart was touched? I had no idea, until now, that a heart wound could be cured."
"Alas! madame," replied De Wardes, politely, "every woman believes that; and it is such a belief which gives them over us that superiority which confidence imposes."
"You misunderstand altogether, dearest," said the prince, impatiently; "M. de Wardes means that the Duke of Buckingham's heart had been touched, not by a sword, but by something else."
"Ah! very good, very good!" exclaimed Madame. "It is a jest of M. de Wardes'; very good; but I should like to know if the Duke of Buckingham would appreciate the jest. It is, indeed, a very great pity he is not here, M. de Wardes."
The young man's eyes seemed to flash fire. "Oh!" he said, as he clenched his teeth, "there is nothing I should like better."
De Guiche did not move. Madame seemed to expect that he would come to her assistance. Monsieur hesitated. The Chevalier de Lorraine advanced and continued the conversation.
"Madame," he said, "De Wardes knows perfectly well that for a Buckingham's heart to be touched is nothing new, and what he has said has already taken place."
"Instead of an ally, I have two enemies," murmured Madame; "two determined enemies, and in league with each other." And she changed the conversation. To change the conversation is, as every one knows, a right possessed by princes which etiquette requires all to respect. The remainder of the conversation was moderate enough in its tone; the principal actors had finished their parts. Madame withdrew early, and Monsieur, who wished to question her on several matters, offered her his hand on leaving. The chevalier was seriously afraid that a good understanding might be established between the husband and wife if he were to leave them quietly together. He therefore made his way to Monsieur's apartments, in order to surprise him on his return, and to destroy with a few words all the good impressions that Madame might have been able to sow in his heart. De Guiche advanced toward De Wardes, who was surrounded by a large number of persons, and thereby indicated his wish to converse with him; De Wardes, at the same time, showing by his looks and by a movement of his head that he perfectly understood him. There was nothing in these signs to enable strangers to suppose they were otherwise than upon the most friendly footing. De Guiche could therefore turn away from him, and wait until he was at liberty. He had not long to wait; for De Wardes, freed from his questioners, approached De Guiche, and both of them, after a fresh salutation, began to walk side by side together.
"You have made a good impression since your return, my dear De Wardes," said the comte.
"Excellent, as you see."
"And your spirits are just as lively as ever?"
"More than ever."
"And a very great happiness, too."
"Why not? Everything is so ridiculous in this world, everything so absurd around us."
"You are right."
"You are of my opinion, then?"
"I should think so! And what news do you bring us from yonder?"
"I? none at all. I have come to look for news here."
"But, tell me, you surely must have seen some people at Boulogne, one of our friends, for instance; it is no great time ago?"
"Some people—one of our friends—"
"Your memory is short."
"Ah! true; Bragelonne, you mean."
"Exactly so."
"Who was on his way to fulfill a mission, with which he was intrusted, to King Charles II."
"Precisely. Well, then, did he not tell you, or did not you tell him—"
"I do not precisely know what I told him, I must confess; but I do know what I did not tell him." De Wardes was finesse itself. He perfectly well knew from De Guiche's tone and manner, which was cold and dignified, that the conversation was about assuming a disagreeable turn. He resolved to let it take what course it pleased, and to keep strictly on his guard.
"May I ask what it was you did not tell him?" inquired De Guiche.
"That about La Valliere."
"La Valliere. … What is it? and what was
