On the day after the morrow, by eleven o’clock, the two diamond studs were finished, and they were so completely imitated, so perfectly alike, that Buckingham could not tell the new ones from the old ones, and experts in such matters would have been deceived as he was. He immediately called D’Artagnan. “Here,” said he to him, “are the diamond studs that you came to bring; and be my witness that I have done all that human power could do.” “Be satisfied, my Lord, I will tell all that I have seen. But does your Grace mean to give me the studs without the casket?” “The casket would encumber you. Besides, the casket is the more precious from being all that is left to me. You will say that I keep it.” “I will perform your commission, word for word, my Lord.” “And now,” resumed Buckingham, looking earnestly at the young man, “how shall I ever acquit myself of the debt I owe you?” D’Artagnan blushed up to the whites of his eyes. He saw that the duke was searching for a means of making him accept something and the idea that the blood of his friends and himself was about to be paid for with English gold was strangely repugnant to him. “Let us understand each other, my Lord,” replied D’Artagnan, “and let us make things clear beforehand in order that there may be no mistake. I am in the service of the King and Queen of France, and form part of the company of Monsieur Dessessart, who, as well as his brother-in-law, Monsieur de Tréville, is particularly attached to their Majesties. What I have done, then, has been for the queen, and not at all for your Grace. And still further, it is very probable I should not have done anything of this, if it had not been to make myself agreeable to someone who is my lady, as the queen is yours.” “Yes,” said the duke, smiling, “and I even believe that I know that other person; it is—” “My Lord, I have not named her!” interrupted the young man, warmly. “That is true,” said the duke; “and it is to this person I am bound to discharge my debt of gratitude.” “You have said, my Lord; for truly, at this moment when there is question of war, I confess to you that I see nothing in your Grace but an Englishman, and consequently an enemy whom I should have much greater pleasure in meeting on the field of battle than in the park at Windsor or the corridors of the Louvre—all which, however, will not prevent me from executing to the very point my commission or from laying down my life, if there be need of it, to accomplish it; but I repeat it to your Grace, without your having personally on that account more to thank me for in this second interview than for what I did for you in the first.” “We say, ‘Proud as a Scotsman,’” murmured the Duke of Buckingham. “And we say, ‘Proud as a Gascon,’” replied D’Artagnan. “The Gascons are the Scots of France.” D’Artagnan bowed to the duke, and was retiring. “Well, are you going away in that manner? Where, and how?” “That’s true!” “Fore Gad, these Frenchmen have no consideration!”