Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and Frenchrivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to theillustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French basketsof flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet thearrival of the young princess; the French in return invited the Englishto a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations werepoured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From therespect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen; and from theadoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appearedan object of worship. The queen-mother gave the French the mostaffectionate reception. France was her native country, and she hadsuffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made herforget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affectionfor it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitablyreceived, and where a brilliant future opened before them. After thepublic entry was over, and the spectators in the streets had partiallydispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the crowd could beheard only in the distance; when the night had closed in, wrapping withits star-covered mantle the sea, the harbor, the town, and surroundingcountry, De Guiche, still excited by the great events of the day,returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of the stools with soprofound an expression of distress that Bragelonne kept his eyes fixedon him, until he heard him sigh, and then he approached him. The counthad thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against thepartition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands,with heaving chest and restless limbs.
"You are suffering?" asked Raoul.
"Cruelly."
"Bodily, I suppose?"
"Yes; bodily."
"This has indeed been a harassing day," continued the young man, hiseyes fixed upon his friend.
"Yes; a night's rest will probably restore me."
"Shall I leave you?"
"No; I wish to talk to you."
"You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first answered myquestions."
"Proceed then."
"You will be frank with me?"
"I always am."
"Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?"
"I suspect."
"Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?"
"One could almost swear to it, to observe him."
"You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind."
"It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distress in hiseyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day."
"You are a poet, my dear count, and find subject for your museeverywhere."
"I can perceive love clearly enough."
"Where it does not exist?"
"Nay, where it does exist."
"Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?"
"I am convinced of what I say," said the count.
"Now, inform me count," said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him,"what has happened to render you so clear-sighted?"
Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered, "Self-love, Isuppose."
"Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to bethe case this evening."
"I am fatigued."
"Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; we have beenon horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our horses dying fromexhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneath us, and yet we havelaughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens youto-night."
"It is annoyance, then."
"What annoyance?"
"That of this evening."
"The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?"
"Of course; is it not vexatious for us, the representatives of oursovereign master, to witness the devotion of an Englishman to our futuremistress, the second lady in point of rank in the kingdom?"
"Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be apprehendedfrom Buckingham."
"No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here, almostsucceed in creating a disturbance between the English and ourselves;and, had it not been for you, for your admirable prudence, for yoursingular decision of character, swords would have been drawn in the verystreets of the town."
"You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics."
"Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. Youspoke to him in a low tone of voice, what did you say to him? You thinkhe loves her; you admit that such a passion does not give way readily.He does not love her, then!" De Guiche pronounced the latter with somarked an expression that Raoul raised his head. The noble character ofthe young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easilybe read.
"What I said to him, count," replied Raoul, "I will repeat to you.Listen to me. I said, 'You are regarding with wistful feelings, and mostinjurious desire, the sister of your prince,--her to whom you arenot affianced, who is not, who can never be anything to you; you areoutraging those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady toescort her to her husband.'"
"You spoke to him in that manner?" asked Guiche coloring.
"In those very terms; I even added more. 'How would you regard us,'I said, 'if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyalenough, to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respectfor a princess who is the destined wife of our master?'"
These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turned pale, and,overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely able to stretch out one handmechanically towards Raoul, as he covered his eyes and face with theother.
"But," continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend,"Heaven be praised, the French who are pronounced to be thoughtless andindiscreet, reckless, even, are capable of bringing a calm and soundjudgment to bear on matters of such high importance. I added evenmore, for I said, 'Learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France devoteourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing for them our affections, aswell as our fortunes and our lives; and whenever it may chance to happenthat the tempter suggests one of those vile thoughts that set the hearton fire, we extinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by sheddingour blood for the purpose. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved:our country's, our master's, and our own. It is thus that we act, yourGrace; it is thus that every man of honor ought to act. In this manner,my dear Guiche," continued Raoul, "I addressed the Duke of Buckingham;and he admitted I was right, and resigned himself unresistingly to myarguments."
De Guiche, who had hitherto sat leaning forward while Raoul wasspeaking, drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly; he seized Raoul'shand, his face, which had been as cold as ice, seemed on fire. "And youspoke magnificently," he said, in a half-choked voice; "you are indeed afriend, Raoul. But now, I entreat you, leave me to myself."
"Do you wish it?"
"Yes; I need repose. Many things have agitated me to-day, both in mindand body; when you return tomorrow I shall no longer be the same man."
"I leave you, then," said Raoul, as he withdrew. The count advanced astep towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms. But in thisfriendly pressure Raoul could detect the nervous agitation of a greatinternal conflict.
The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest had passed away,and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace andsecurity everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens,and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather,tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square infront of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the goldenmoonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones.Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble lightstill glimmered in Madame's apartment, which looked out upon the square,and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of thecalm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life's anxieties, andin whom the flame of exist
ence sinks placidly as sleep steals over thebody.
Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of a mancurious to observe, but anxious not to be seen. Sheltered behind thethick curtains of his own tent, embracing with a glance the wholesquare, he noticed that, after a few moments' pause, the curtains of DeGuiche's tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind themhe could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyes glittering in theobscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess's sitting apartment,which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The softlight which illumined the windows was the count's star. The ferventaspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealedin the shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts that established,between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of theprincess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy--a bond created bythoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will,that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon theperfumed couch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devoured soeagerly.
But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. The window of oneof the houses looking on the square was opened too, the casement of thehouse where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light whichissued from this latter, the profile of the duke could be distinctlyseen, as he indolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvethangings; he also was breathing in the direction of the princess'sapartment his prayers and the wild visions of his love.
Raoul could not resist smiling, as thinking of Madame, he said tohimself, "Hers is, indeed, a heart well besieged;" and then added,compassionately, as he thought of Monsieur, "and he is a husband wellthreatened too; it is a good thing for him that he is a prince of suchhigh rank, that he has an army to safeguard for him that which is hisown." Bragelonne watched for some time the conduct of the two lovers,listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers of Manicamp, who snored asimperiously as though he was wearing his blue and gold, instead of hisviolet suit.
Then he turned towards the night breeze which bore towards him, heseemed to think, the distant song of the nightingale; and, after havinglaid in a due provision of melancholy, another nocturnal malady, heretired to rest thinking, with regard to his own love affair, thatperhaps four or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent as thoseof De Guiche and Buckingham, were coveting his own idol in thechateau at Blois. "And Mademoiselle de Montalais is by no means a veryconscientious garrison," said he to himself, sighing aloud.
CHAPTER 87. From Havre to Paris
Ten Years Later Page 93