Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English andFrench rivaled each other in their devotion and courteousattention to the illustrious travelers. The Englishforwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which theyhad made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of theyoung princess; the French in return invited the English toa supper, which was to be given the next day.Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhereduring her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides,she seemed like a queen; and from the adoration with whichshe was treated by two or three, she appeared an object ofworship. The queen-mother gave the French the mostaffectionate reception. France was her native country, andshe had suffered too much unhappiness in England for Englandto have made her forget France. She taught her daughter,then, by her own affection for it, that love for a countrywhere they had both been hospitably received, and where abrilliant future opened before them. After the public entrywas over, and the spectators in the streets had partiallydispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of thecrowd could be heard only in the distance; when the nighthad closed in, wrapping with its star-covered mantle thesea, the harbor, the town, and surrounding country, DeGuiche, still excited by the great events of the day,returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of thestools with so profound an expression of distress thatBragelonne kept his eyes fixed on him, until he heard himsigh, and then he approached him. The count had thrownhimself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against thepartition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried inhis hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs.

"You are suffering?" asked Raoul.

"Cruelly."

"Bodily, I suppose?"

"Yes; bodily."

"This has indeed been a harassing day," continued the youngman, his eyes fixed upon his friend.

"Yes; a night's rest will probably restore me."

"Shall I leave you?"

"No; I wish to talk to you."

"You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have firstanswered my questions."

"Proceed then."

"You will be frank with me?"

"I always am."

"Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?"

"I suspect."

"Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?"

"One could almost swear to it, to observe him."

"You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind."

"It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distressin his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day."

"You are a poet, my dear count, and find subject for yourmuse everywhere."

"I can perceive love clearly enough."

"Where it does not exist?"

"Nay, where it does exist."

"Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?"

"I am convinced of what I say," said the count.

"Now, inform me count," said Raoul, fixing a penetratinglook upon him, "what has happened to render you soclear-sighted?"

Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered,"Self-love, I suppose."

"Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits thanseems to be the case this evening."

"I am fatigued."

"Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; wehave been on horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and ourhorses dying from exhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneathus, and yet we have laughed at our mishaps. Believe me, itis not fatigue that saddens you to-night."

"It is annoyance, then."

"What annoyance?"

"That of this evening."

"The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?"

"Of course; is it not vexatious for us, the representativesof our sovereign master, to witness the devotion of anEnglishman to our future mistress, the second lady in pointof rank in the kingdom?"

"Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to beapprehended from Buckingham."

"No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here,almost succeed in creating a disturbance between the Englishand ourselves; and, had it not been for you, for youradmirable prudence, for your singular decision of character,swords would have been drawn in the very streets of thetown."

"You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics."

"Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes meso much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice, what didyou say to him? You think he loves her; you admit that sucha passion does not give way readily. He does not love her,then!" De Guiche pronounced the latter with so marked anexpression that Raoul raised his head. The noble characterof the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure whichcould easily be read.

"What I said to him, count," replied Raoul, "I will repeatto you. Listen to me. I said, `You are regarding withwistful feelings, and most injurious desire, the sister ofyour prince, - her to whom you are not affianced, who isnot, who can never be anything to you; you are outragingthose who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady toescort her to her husband.'"

"You spoke to him in that manner?" asked Guiche coloring.

"In those very terms; I even added more. `How would youregard us,' I said, `if you were to perceive among us a manmad enough, disloyal enough, to entertain other thansentiments of the most perfect respect for a princess who isthe destined wife of our master?'"

These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turnedpale, and, overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely ableto stretch out one hand mechanically towards Raoul, as hecovered his eyes and face with the other.

"But," continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement ofhis friend, "Heaven be praised, the French who arepronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless, even,are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear onmatters of such high importance. I added even more, for Isaid, `Learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France devoteourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing for them ouraffections, as well as our fortunes and our lives; andwhenever it may chance to happen that the tempter suggestsone of those vile thoughts that set the heart on fire, weextinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by sheddingour blood for the purpose. Thus it is that the honor ofthree is saved: our country's, our master's, and our own. Itis thus that we act, your Grace; it is thus that every manof honor ought to act. In this manner, my dear Guiche,"continued Raoul, "I addressed the Duke of Buckingham; and headmitted I was right, and resigned himself unresistingly tomy arguments."

De Guiche, who had hitherto sat leaning forward while Raoulwas speaking, drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly; heseized Raoul's hand, his face, which had been as cold asice, seemed on fire. "And you spoke magnificently," he said,in a half-choked voice; "you are indeed a friend, Raoul. Butnow, I entreat you, leave me to myself."

"Do you wish it?"

"Yes; I need repose. Many things have agitated me to-day,both in mind and body; when you return tomorrow I shall nolonger be the same man."

"I leave you, then," said Raoul, as he withdrew. The countadvanced a step towards his friend, and pressed him warmlyin his arms. But in this friendly pressure Raoul coulddetect the nervous agitation of a great internal conflict.

The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest hadpassed away, and the sweet influences of the evening hadrestored life, peace and security everywhere. A few fleecyclouds were floating in the heavens, and indicated fromtheir appearance a continuance of beautiful weather,tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the largesquare in front of the hotel, the shadows of the tents,intersected by the golden moonbeams, formed as it were ahuge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones. Soon, however, theentire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble light stillglimmered in Madame's apartment, which looked out upon thesquare, and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed tobe the image of the calm sleep of a young girl, hardly yetsensible of life's anxieties, and in whom the flame ofexistence sinks placidly as sleep steals over the body.

Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured stepof a man curious to observe, but anxious not to be seen.Sheltered behind the thick curtains of his own tent,embracing with a glance the whole square, he noticed that,after a few moments' pause, the curtains of De Guiche's tentwere agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind themhe could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyesglittering in the obscurity, fastened ardently upon theprincess's sitting apartment, which was partially lighted bythe lamp in the inner room. The soft light which illuminedthe windows was the count's star. The fervent aspirations ofhis nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealed inthe shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts thatestablished, between the tent of the young ambassador andthe balcony of the princess, a mysterious and magical bondof sympathy - a bond created by thoughts imprinted with somuch strength and persistence of will, that they must havecaused happy and loving dreams to alight upon the perfumedcouch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devouredso eagerly.

But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. Thewindow of one of the houses looking on the square was openedtoo, the casement of the house where Buckingham resided. Bythe aid of the rays of light which issued from this latter,the profile of the duke could be distinctly seen, as heindolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvethangings; he also was breathing in the direction of theprincess's apartment his prayers and the wild visions of hislove.

Raoul could not resist smiling, as thinking of Madame, hesaid to himself, "Hers is, indeed, a heart well besieged;"and then added, compassionately, as he thought of Monsieur,"and he is a husband well threatened too; it is a good thingfor him that he is a prince of such high rank, that he hasan army to safeguard for him that which is his own."Bragelonne watched for some time the conduct of the twolovers, listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers ofManicamp, who snored as imperiously as though he was wearinghis blue and gold, instead of his violet suit.

Then he turned towards the night breeze which bore towardshim, he seemed to think, the distant song of thenightingale; and, after having laid in a due provision ofmelancholy, another nocturnal malady, he retired to restthinking, with regard to his own love affair, that perhapsfour or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent asthose of De Guiche and Buckingham, were coveting his ownidol in the chateau at Blois. "And Mademoiselle de Montalaisis by no means a very conscientious garrison," said he tohimself, sighing aloud.