directions were executed with that celerity which
distinguishes every maneuver on board a man-of-war.
Buckingham, in utter hopelessness, cast a look of despair at
the princess, of supplication towards the queen, and
directed a glance full of anger towards the admiral. The
princess pretended not to notice him, while the queen turned
aside her head, and the admiral laughed outright, at the
sound of which Buckingham seemed ready to spring upon him.
The queen-mother rose, and with a tone of authority said,
“Pray set off, sir.”
The young duke hesitated, looked around him, and with a last
effort, half-choked by contending emotions, said, “And you,
gentlemen, M. de Guiche and M. de Bragelonne, do not you
accompany me?”
De Guiche bowed and said, “Both M. de Bragelonne and myself
await her majesty’s orders; whatever the commands she
imposes on us, we shall obey them.” Saying this, he looked
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towards the princess, who cast down her eyes.
“Your grace will remember,” said the queen, “that M. de
Guiche is here to represent Monsieur; it is he who will do
the honors of France, as you have done those of England; his
presence cannot be dispensed with; besides, we owe him this
slight favor for the courage he displayed in venturing to
seek us in such a terrible stress of weather.”
Buckingham opened his lips, as if he were about to speak,
but, whether thoughts or expressions failed him, not a
syllable escaped them, and turning away, as though out of
his mind, he leapt from the vessel into the boat. The
sailors were just in time to catch hold of him to steady
themselves; for his weight and the rebound had almost upset
the boat.
“His grace cannot be in his senses,” said the admiral aloud
to Raoul.
“I am uneasy on the Duke’s account,” replied Bragelonne.
While the boat was advancing towards the shore, the duke
kept his eyes immovably fixed upon the admiral’s ship, like
a miser torn away from his coffers, or a mother separated
from her child, about to be led away to death. No one,
however, acknowledged his signals, his frowns, or his
pitiful gestures. In very anguish of mind, he sank down in
the boat, burying his hands in his hair, whilst the boat,
impelled by the exertions of the merry sailors, flew over
the waves. On his arrival he was in such a state of apathy,
that, had he not been received at the harbor by the
messenger whom he had directed to precede him, he would
hardly have had strength to ask his way. Having once,
however, reached the house which had been set apart for him,
he shut himself up, like Achilles in his tent. The barge
bearing the princesses quitted the admiral’s vessel at the
very moment Buckingham landed. It was followed by another
boat filled with officers, courtiers, and zealous friends.
Great numbers of the inhabitants of Havre, having embarked
in fishing-cobles and boats of every description, set off to
meet the royal barge. The cannon from the forts fired
salutes, which were returned by the flagship and the two
other vessels, and the flashes from the open mouths of the
cannon floated in white fumes over the waves, and
disappeared in the clear blue sky.
The princess landed at the decorated quay. Bands of gay
music greeted her arrival, and accompanied her every step
she took. During the time she was passing through the center
of the town, and treading beneath her delicate feet the
richest carpets and the gayest flowers, which had been
strewn upon the ground, De Guiche and Raoul, escaping from
their English friends, hurried through the town and hastened
rapidly towards the place intended for the residence of
Madame.
“Let us hurry forward,” said Raoul to De Guiche, “for if I
read Buckingham’s character aright, he will create some
disturbance, when he learns the result of our deliberations
of yesterday.”
“Never fear,” said De Guiche, “De Wardes is there, who is
determination itself, while Manicamp is the very
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personification of artless gentleness.”
De Guiche was not, however, the less diligent on that