sir," said Buckingham, "pardon my indiscretion, I beg
you; and if, at any time, I should go into France----" and he turned
round to take a last look at the princess, who took but little notice
of him, totally occupied as she was, or appeared to be, with Rochester.
Buckingham sighed.

"Well?" said D'Artagnan.

"I was saying that if, any day, I were to go to France----"

"You will go, my lord," said D'Artagnan. "I shall answer for that."

"And how so?"

"Oh, I have strange powers of prediction; if I do predict anything I am
seldom mistaken. If, then, you do come to France?"

"Well, then, monsieur, you, of whom kings ask that valuable friendship
which restores crowns to them, I will venture to beg of you a little of
that great interest you took in my father."

"My lord," replied D'Artagnan, "believe me, I shall deem myself highly
honored if, in France, you remember having seen me here. And now
permit----"

Then, turning towards the princess: "Madam," said he, "your royal
highness is a daughter of France; and in that quality I hope to see you
again in Paris. One of my happy days will be that on which your royal
highness shall give me any command whatever, thus proving to me that you
have not forgotten the recommendations of your august brother." And he
bowed respectfully to the young princess, who gave him her hand to kiss
with a right royal grace.

"Ah! madam," said Buckingham, in a subdued voice, "what can a man do to
obtain a similar favor from your royal highness?"

"Dame! my lord," replied Henrietta, "ask Monsieur d'Artagnan; he will
tell you."

CHAPTER 36. How D'Artagnan drew, as a Fairy would have done, a
Country-seat from a Deal Box

The king's words regarding the wounded pride of Monk had not inspired
D'Artagnan with a small portion of apprehension. The lieutenant had had,
all his life, the great art of choosing his enemies; and when he had
found them implacable and invincible, it was when he had not been able,
under any pretense, to make them otherwise. But points of view change
greatly in the course of a life. It is a magic lantern, of which the eye
of man every year changes the aspects. It results that from the last day
of a year on which we saw white, to the first day of the year on which
we shall see black, there is but the interval of a single night.

Now, D'Artagnan, when he left Calais with his ten scamps, would have
hesitated as little in attacking a Goliath, a Nebuchadnezzar, or