“Very well; it is quite certain, count, that his royal highness will be the most unfortunate of husbands.” “What do you mean?” “The Duke of Buckingham--” “It is a name of ill omen to the princes of the house of France.” “And so the duke is madly in love with Madame, so the rumor runs, and will have no one approach her but himself.” De Guiche colored. “Thank you, thank you,” said he to Manicamp, grasping his hand. Then, recovering himself, added, “Whatever you do, Manicamp, be careful that this project of Buckingham’s is not made known to any Frenchman here; for, if so, many a sword would be unsheathed in this country that does not fear English steel.” “But after all,” said Manicamp, “I have had no satisfactory proof given me of the love in question, and it may be no more than an idle tale.” “No, no,” said De Guiche, “it must be the truth;” and despite his command over himself, he clenched his teeth. “Well,” said Manicamp, “after all, what does it matter to you? What does it matter to me whether the prince is to be what the late king was? Buckingham the father for the queen, Buckingham the son for the princess.” “Manicamp! Manicamp!” “It is a fact, or at least, everybody says so.” “Silence!” cried the count. “But why, silence?” said De Wardes; “it is a highly creditable circumstance for the French nation. Are not you of my opinion, Monsieur de Bragelonne?” “To what circumstance do you allude?” inquired De Bragelonne with an abstracted air. “That the English should render homage to the beauty of our queens and our princesses.” “Forgive me, but I have not been paying attention to what has passed; will you oblige me by explaining.” “There is no doubt it was necessary that Buckingham the father should come to Paris in order that his majesty, King Louis XIII., should perceive that his wife was one of the most beautiful women of the French court; and it seems necessary, at the present time, that Buckingham the son should consecrate, by the devotion of his worship, the beauty of a princess who has French blood in her veins. The fact of having inspired a passion on the other side of the Channel will henceforth confer a title to beauty on this.” “Sir,” replied De Bragelonne, “I do not like to hear such matters treated so lightly. Gentlemen like ourselves should be careful guardians of the honor of our queens and our princesses. If we jest at them, what will our servants do?” “How am I to understand that?” said De Wardes, whose ears tingled at the remark. “In any way you chose, monsieur,” replied De Bragelonne, coldly. “Bragelonne, Bragelonne,” murmured De Guiche. “M. de Wardes,” exclaimed Manicamp, noticing that the young man had spurred his horse close to the side of Raoul. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said De Guiche, “do not set such an example in public, in the street too. De Wardes, you are wrong.” “Wrong; in what way, may I ask you?”