w. The count advanced a
step towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms. But in this
friendly pressure Raoul could detect the nervous agitation of a great
internal conflict.

The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest had passed away,
and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace and
security everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens,
and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather,
tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square in
front of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the golden
moonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones.
Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble light
still glimmered in Madame's apartment, which looked out upon the square,
and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of the
calm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life's anxieties, and
in whom the flame of existence sinks placidly as sleep steals over the
body.

Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of 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 tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind them
he could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyes glittering in the
obscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess's sitting apartment,
which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The soft
light which illumined the windows was the count's star. The fervent
aspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealed
in the shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts that established,
between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of the
princess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy--a bond created by
thoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will,
that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon the
perfumed couch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devoured so
eagerly.

But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. The window of one
of the houses looking on the square was opened too, the casement of the
house where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light which
issued from this latter, the profile of the duke could be distinctly
seen, as he