at him, caught the sword of the latter within his own, and
sent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as De
Wardes stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat Raoul sheathed his
sword, seized him by the collar and the waist-band, and hurled his
adversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with rage.

"We shall meet again," murmured De Wardes, rising from the ground and
picking up his sword.

"I have done nothing for the last hour," said Raoul, "but say the same
thing." Then, turning towards the duke, he said, "I entreat you to be
silent about this affair; I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my anger
carried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it;--forget it, too."

"Dear viscount," said the duke, pressing within his own the vigorous and
valiant hand of his companion, "allow me, on the contrary, to remember
it, and to look after your safety; that man is dangerous,--he will kill
you."

"My father," replied Raoul, "lived for twenty years under the menace of
a much more formidable enemy, and he still lives."

"Your father had good friends, viscount."

"Yes," sighed Raoul, "such friends indeed, that none are now left like
them."

"Do not say that, I beg, at the very moment I offer you my friendship;"
and Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Raoul, who delightedly
received the proffered alliance. "In my family," added Buckingham, "you
are aware, M. de Bragelonne, wee die to save our friends."

"I know it well, duke," replied Raoul.

CHAPTER 88. An Account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine thought of
Madame

Nothing further interrupted the journey. Under a pretext that was little
remarked, M. de Wardes went forward in advance of the others. He took
Manicamp with him, for his equable and dreamy disposition acted as a
counterpoise to his own. It is a subject of remark, that quarrelsome
and restless characters invariably seek the companionship of gentle,
timorous dispositions, as if the former sought, in the contrast, a
repose for their own ill-humor, and the latter a protection for their
weakness. Buckingham and Bragelonne admitting De Guiche into their
friendship, in concert with him, sang the praises of the princess during
the whole of the journey. Bragelonne had, however, insisted that their
three voices should be in concert, instead of singing in solo parts,
as De Guiche and his rival seemed to have acquired a dangerous habit
of investigation. This style of ha