happy, then, if I am yours--entirely?"

"It will be the supremest happiness for me."

"Take me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do
you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple."

"Do not tempt me."

"Do not refuse me."

"Think seriously of what you are proposing."

"Fouquet, but one word. Let it be 'No,' and I open this door," and she
pointed to the door which led into the streets, "and you will never see
me again. Let that word be 'Yes,' and I am yours entirely."

"Elise! Elise! But this coffer?"

"Contains my dowry."

"It is your ruin," exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;
"there must be a million here."

"Yes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and
for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you."

"This is too much," exclaimed Fouquet. "I yield, I yield, even were it
only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry."

"And take the woman with it," said the marquise, throwing herself into
his arms.

Chapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.

During the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled
in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in
undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so
that the greater part of his _adieux_ were very hastily made. His visit
to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager,
had been paid collectively--a precaution on the part of the queen-mother
which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur,
and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the
luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set
off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.

De Wardes, irritated at finding himself dragged away in so abrupt a
manner by this Englishman, had sought in his subtle mind for some
means of escaping from his fetters; but no one having rendered him any
assistance in this respect, he was absolutely obliged, therefore, to
submit to the burden of his own evil thoughts and caustic spirit.

Such of his friends in whom he had been able to confide, had, in their
character of wits, rallied him upon the duke's superiority. Others,
less brilliant, but more sensible, had reminded him of the king's orders
prohibiting dueling. Others, again, and they the larger number, who,
in virtue of charity, or national vanity, might have rendered him
assistance, did not