it?"

"I demand it."

"The Vicomte de Wardes."

"Very well," said Athos, tranquilly, "I know him. But our horses are
ready, I see; and, instead of delaying our departure for a couple of
hours, we will set off at once. Come, monsieur."

Chapter XVI. Monsieur Becomes Jealous of the Duke of Buckingham.

While the Comte de la Fere was proceeding on his way to Pairs,
accompanied by Raoul, the Palais Royal was the theatre wherein a scene
of what Moliere would have called excellent comedy, was being performed.
Four days had elapsed since his marriage, and Monsieur, having
breakfasted very hurriedly, passed into his ante-chamber, frowning and
out of temper. The repast had not been over-agreeable. Madame had had
breakfast served in her own apartment, and Monsieur had breakfasted
almost alone; the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp were the only
persons present at the meal, which lasted three-quarters of an hour
without a single syllable having been uttered. Manicamp, who was less
intimate with his royal highness than the Chevalier de Lorraine, vainly
endeavored to detect, from the expression of the prince's face, what had
made him so ill-humored. The Chevalier de Lorraine, who had no occasion
to speculate about anything, inasmuch as he knew all, ate his breakfast
with that extraordinary appetite which the troubles of one's friends but
stimulates, and enjoyed at the same time both Monsieur's ill-humor and
the vexation of Manicamp. He seemed delighted, while he went on eating,
to detain a prince, who was very impatient to move, still at table.
Monsieur at times repented the ascendency which he had permitted the
Chevalier de Lorraine to acquire over him, and which exempted the latter
from any observance of etiquette towards him. Monsieur was now in one
of those moods, but he dreaded as much as he liked the chevalier, and
contented himself with nursing his anger without betraying it. Every
now and then Monsieur raised his eyes to the ceiling, then lowered them
towards the slices of _pate_ which the chevalier was attacking, and
finally, not caring to betray the resentment, he gesticulated in a
manner which Harlequin might have envied. At last, however, Monsieur
could control himself no longer, and at the dessert, rising from the
table in excessive wrath, as we have related, he left the Chevalier de
Lorraine to finish his breakfast as he pleased. Seeing Monsieur rise
from the table, Manicamp, napkin in hand, rose also. Monsi