existence.
Now an enemy is never so near and consequently so
threatening, as when he has completely disappeared. The
prince was, therefore, contrary to his custom, gloomy and
anxious, when an officer entered and announced to Marshal de
Grammont that some one wished to see him.
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The Duc de Grammont received permission from the prince by a
glance and went out. The prince followed him with his eyes
and continued looking at the door; no one ventured to speak,
for fear of disturbing him.
Suddenly a dull and heavy noise was heard. The prince leaped
to his feet, extending his hand in the direction whence came
the sound, there was no mistaking it — it was the noise of
cannon. Every one stood up.
At that moment the door opened.
“Monseigneur,” said Marshal de Grammont, with a radiant
face, “will your highness permit my son, Count de Guiche,
and his traveling companion, Viscount de Bragelonne, to come
in and give news of the enemy, whom they have found while we
were looking for him?”
“What!” eagerly replied the prince, “will I permit? I not
only permit, I desire; let them come in.”
The marshal introduced the two young men and placed them
face to face with the prince.
“Speak, gentlemen,” said the prince, saluting them; “first
speak; we shall have time afterward for the usual
compliments. The most urgent thing now is to learn where the
enemy is and what he is doing.”
It fell naturally to the Count de Guiche to make reply; not
only was he the elder, but he had been presented to the
prince by his father. Besides, he had long known the prince,
whilst Raoul now saw him for the first time. He therefore
narrated to the prince what they had seen from the inn at
Mazingarbe.
Meanwhile Raoul closely observed the young general, already
made so famous by the battles of Rocroy, Fribourg, and
Nordlingen.
Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Conde, who, since the death of
his father, Henri de Bourbon, was called, in accordance with
the custom of that period, Monsieur le Prince, was a young
man, not more than twenty-six or twenty-seven years old,
with the eye of an eagle — agl’ occhi grifani, as Dante
says — aquiline nose, long, waving hair, of medium height,
well formed, possessed of all the qualities essential to the
successful soldier — that is to say, the rapid glance,
quick decision, fabulous courage. At the same time he was a
man of elegant manners and strong mind, so that in addition
to the revolution he had made in war, by his new
contributions to its methods, he had also made a revolution
at Paris, among the young noblemen of the court, whose
natural chief he was and who, in distinction from the social
leaders of the ancient court, modeled after Bassompierre,
Bellegarde and the Duke d’Angouleme, were called the
petits-maitres.
At the first words of the Count de Guiche, the prince,
having in mind the direction whence came the sound of
cannon, had understood everything. The enemy was marching
upon Lens, with the intention, doubtless, of securing
possession of that town and separating from France the army
of France. But in what force was the enemy? Was it a corps
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sent out to make a diversion? Was it an entire army? To this
question De Guiche could not respond.
Now, as these questions involved matters of gravest
consequence, it was these to which the prince had especially
desired an answer, exact, precise, positive.
Raoul conquered the very natural feeling of timidity he
experienced and approaching the prince:
“My lord,” he said, “will you permit me to hazard a few
words on that subject, which will perhaps relieve you of
your uncertainty?”
The prince turned and seemed to cover the young man with a
single glance; he smiled on perceiving that he was a child
hardly fifteen years old.
“Certainly, monsieur, speak,” he said, softening his stern,
accented tones, as if he were speaking to a woman.
“My lord,” said Raoul, blushing, “might examine the Spanish
prisoner.”
“Have you a Spanish prisoner?” cried the prince.