on our arrival at Paris I will conduct you to M. d’Artagnan,
to whom you shall detail all the causes of complaint you
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have against him. M. d’Artagnan will solicit the king’s
permission to measure swords with you. The king will yield
his consent, and when you shall have received the
sword-thrust in due course, you will consider, in a calmer
frame of mind, the precepts of the Gospel, which enjoin
forgetfulness of injuries.”
“Ah!” exclaimed De Wardes, furious at this imperturbable
coolness, “one can clearly see you are half a bastard, M. de
Bragelonne.”
Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning,
causing De Wardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham,
also, who had perceived their expression, threw himself
between the two adversaries, whom he had expected to see
precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes had reserved
this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in his
hand, and awaited the encounter. “You are right, monsieur,”
said Raoul, mastering his emotion, “I am only acquainted
with my father’s name, but I know too well that the Comte de
la Fere is too upright and honorable a man to allow me to
fear for a single moment that there is, as you insinuate,
any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of my
mother’s name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach.
You are deficient in loyalty of conduct; you are wanting in
courtesy, in reproaching me with misfortune. It matters
little, however, the insult has been given, and I consider
myself insulted accordingly. It is quite understood, then,
that after you shall have received satisfaction from M.
d’Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me.”
“I admire your prudence, monsieur,” replied De Wardes with a
bitter smile; “a little while ago you promised me a
sword-thrust from M. d’Artagnan, and now, after I shall have
received his, you offer me one from yourself.”
“Do not disturb yourself,” replied Raoul, with concentrated
anger, “in all affairs of that nature, M. d’Artagnan is
exceedingly skillful, and I will beg him as a favor to treat
you as he did your father; in other words, to spare your
life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure, after your
recovery, of killing you outright; for you have the heart of
a viper, M. de Wardes, and in very truth, too many
precautions cannot be taken against you.”
“I shall take my precautions against you,” said De Wardes,
“be assured of it.”
“Allow me, monsieur,” said Buckingham, “to translate your
remark by a piece of advice I am about to give M. de
Bragelonne; M. de Bragelonne, wear a cuirass.”
De Wardes clenched his hands. “Ah!” said he, “you two
gentlemen intend to wait until you have taken that
precaution before you measure your swords against mine.”
“Very well, monsieur,” said Raoul, “since you positively
will have it so, let us settle the affair now.” And drawing
his sword he advanced towards De Wardes.
“What are you going to do?” said Buckingham.
“Be easy,” said Raoul, “it will not be very long.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
De Wardes placed himself on his guard; their swords crossed.
De Wardes flew upon Raoul with such impetuosity, that at the
first clashing of the steel blades Buckingham clearly saw
that Raoul was only trifling with his adversary. Buckingham
stepped aside, and watched the combat. Raoul was as calm as
if he were handling a foil, instead of a sword; having
retreated a step, he parried three or four fierce thrusts
which De Wardes made at him, caught the sword of the latter
within his own, and sent it flying twenty paces the other
side of the barrier. Then as De Wardes stood disarmed and
astounded at his defeat Raoul sheathed his sword, seized him
by the collar and the waist-band, and hurled his adversary
to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with
rage.
“We shall meet again,” murmured De Wardes, rising from the
ground and picking up his sword.
“I have done nothing for the last hour,” said Raoul, “but
say the same thing.” Then, turning towards the duke, he