replied Raoul, with unruffled composure, “I should, indeed,
regard it as a great happiness, for this circumstance would
prevent all kinds of evil remarks; not alone about yourself,
but also about those illustrious persons whom your devotion
is compromising in so absurd a manner.”
“You are right, you are right,” said the young man, almost
beside himself. “Yes, yes; better to die, than to suffer as
I do at this moment.” And he grasped a beautiful dagger, the
handle of which was inlaid with precious stones; and which
he half drew from his breast.
Raoul thrust his hand aside. “Be careful what you do,” he
said; “if you do not kill yourself, you commit a ridiculous
action; and if you were to kill yourself, you sprinkle blood
upon the nuptial robe of the princess of England.”
Buckingham remained a minute gasping for breath; during this
interval, his lips quivered, his fingers worked
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convulsively, and his eyes wandered as though in delirium.
Then suddenly, he said, “M. de Bragelonne, I know nowhere a
nobler mind than yours; you are, indeed, a worthy son of the
most perfect gentleman that ever lived. Keep your tents.”
And he threw his arms round Raoul’s neck. All who were
present, astounded at this conduct, which was the very
reverse of what was expected, considering the violence of
the one adversary and the determination of the other, began
immediately to clap their hands, and a thousand cheers and
joyful shouts arose from all sides. De Guiche, in his turn,
embraced Buckingham somewhat against his inclination; but,
at all events, he did embrace him. This was the signal for
French and English to do the same; and they who, until that
moment, had looked at each other with restless uncertainty,
fraternized on the spot. In the meantime, the procession of
the princess arrived, and had it not been for Bragelonne,
two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and
blood have been shed upon the flowers with which the ground
was covered. At the appearance, however, of the banners
borne at the head of the procession, complete order was
restored.
CHAPTER 86
Night
Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and
French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous
attention to the illustrious travelers. The English
forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they
had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the
young princess; the French in return invited the English to
a supper, which was to be given the next day.
Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere
during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides,
she seemed like a queen; and from the adoration with which
she was treated by two or three, she appeared an object of
worship. The queen-mother gave the French the most
affectionate reception. France was her native country, and
she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England
to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter,
then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country
where they had both been hospitably received, and where a
brilliant future opened before them. After the public entry
was over, and the spectators in the streets had partially
dispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the
crowd could be heard only in the distance; when the night
had closed in, wrapping with its star-covered mantle the
sea, the harbor, the town, and surrounding country, De
Guiche, still excited by the great events of the day,
returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of the
stools with so profound an expression of distress that
Bragelonne kept his eyes fixed on him, until he heard him
sigh, and then he approached him. The count had thrown
himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the
partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in
his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs.
“You are suffering?” asked Raoul.
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“Cruelly.”
“Bodily, I suppose?”
“Yes; bodily.”
“This has indeed been a harassing day,” continued the young
man, his eyes fixed upon his friend.