nting d'Artagnan to his sister,
"a young gentleman who has held my life in his hands, and who has not
abused his advantage, although we have been twice enemies, although
it was I who insulted him, and although I am an Englishman. Thank him,
then, madame, if you have any affection for me."

Milady frowned slightly; a scarcely visible cloud passed over her brow,
and so peculiar a smile appeared upon her lips that the young man, who
saw and observed this triple shade, almost shuddered at it.

The brother did not perceive this; he had turned round to play with
Milady's favorite monkey, which had pulled him by the doublet.

"You are welcome, monsieur," said Milady, in a voice whose singular
sweetness contrasted with the symptoms of ill-humor which d'Artagnan had
just remarked; "you have today acquired eternal rights to my gratitude."

The Englishman then turned round and described the combat without
omitting a single detail. Milady listened with the greatest attention,
and yet it was easily to be perceived, whatever effort she made to
conceal her impressions, that this recital was not agreeable to her.
The blood rose to her head, and her little foot worked with impatience
beneath her robe.

Lord de Winter perceived nothing of this. When he had finished, he went
to a table upon which was a salver with Spanish wine and glasses. He
filled two glasses, and by a sign invited d'Artagnan to drink.

D'Artagnan knew it was considered disobliging by an Englishman to refuse
to pledge him. He therefore drew near to the table and took the second
glass. He did not, however, lose sight of Milady, and in a mirror he
perceived the change that came over her face. Now that she believed
herself to be no longer observed, a sentiment resembling ferocity
animated her countenance. She bit her handkerchief with her beautiful
teeth.

That pretty little SOUBRETTE whom d'Artagnan had already observed
then came in. She spoke some words to Lord de Winter in English, who
thereupon requested d'Artagnan's permission to retire, excusing himself
on account of the urgency of the business that had called him away, and
charging his sister to obtain his pardon.

D'Artagnan exchanged a shake of the hand with Lord de Winter, and then
returned to Milady. Her countenance, with surprising mobility, had
recovered its gracious expression; but some little red spots on her
handkerchief indicated that she had bitten her lips till the blood came.
Those lips were ma