care to run the risk of incurring disgrace, and
would, at the best, have informed the ministers of a departure which
might end in a massacre on a small scale. The result was, that, after
having fully deliberated upon the matter, De Wardes packed up his
luggage, took a couple of horses, and, followed only by one servant,
made his way towards the barrier, where Buckingham's carriage was to
await him.

The duke received his adversary as he would have done an intimate
acquaintance, made room beside him on the same seat with himself,
offered him refreshments, and spread over his knees the sable cloak that
had been thrown on the front seat. They then conversed of the court,
without alluding to Madame; of Monsieur, without speaking of domestic
affairs; of the king, without speaking of his brother's wife; of the
queen-mother, without alluding to her daughter-in-law; of the king of
England, without alluding to his sister; of the state of the affections
of either of the travelers, without pronouncing any name that might be
dangerous. In this way the journey, which was performed by short stages,
was most agreeable, and Buckingham, almost a Frenchman from wit and
education, was delighted at having so admirably selected his traveling
companion. Elegant repasts were served, of which they partook but
lightly; trials of horses made in the beautiful meadows that skirted the
road; coursing indulged in, for Buckingham had his greyhounds with him;
and in such ways did they pass away the pleasant time. The duke somewhat
resembled the beautiful river Seine, which folds France a thousand times
in its loving embrace, before deciding upon joining its waters with the
ocean. In quitting France, it was her recently adopted daughter he had
brought to Paris whom he chiefly regretted; his every thought was a
remembrance of her--his every memory a regret. Therefore, whenever, now
and then, despite his command over himself, he was lost in thought,
De Wardes left him entirely to his musings. This delicacy might have
touched Buckingham, and changed his feelings towards De Wardes, if
the latter, while preserving silence, had shown a glance less full
of malice, and a smile less false. Instinctive dislikes, however,
are relentless; nothing appeases them; a few ashes may, sometimes,
apparently, extinguish them; but beneath those ashes the smothered
embers rage more furiously. Having exhausted every means of amusement
the route offered, they arrived, as we h