onably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himself
here; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M. d'Artagnan----"

"You will of course leave me to deal with the matter," said De Wardes.

"Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword," said Buckingham,
unsheathing it as he spoke; "for if M. d'Artagnan injured your father,
he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a great
service to mine."

De Wardes was thunderstruck.

"M. d'Artagnan," continued Buckingham, "is the bravest gentleman I know.
I shall be delighted, as I owe him many personal obligations, to settle
them with you, by crossing my sword with yours." At the same moment
Buckingham drew his sword gracefully from its scabbard, saluted Raoul,
and put himself on guard.

De Wardes advanced a step to meet him.

"Stay, gentlemen," said Raoul, advancing towards them, and placing his
own drawn sword between the combatants, "the affair is hardly worth the
trouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess.
M. de Wardes speaks ill of M. d'Artagnan, with whom he is not even
acquainted."

"What, monsieur," said De Wardes, setting his teeth hard together, and
resting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot, "do you assert
that I do not know M. d'Artagnan?"

"Certainly not; you do not know him," replied Raoul, coldly, "and you
are even not aware where he is to he found."

"Not know where he is?"

"Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him upon
strangers, instead of seeking M. d'Artagnan where he is to be found." De
Wardes turned pale. "Well, monsieur," continued Raoul, "I will tell you
where M. d'Artagnan is: he is now in Paris; when on duty he is to be
met with at the Louvre,--when not on duty, in the Rue des Lombards.
M. d'Artagnan can be easily discovered at either of those two places.
Having, therefore, as you assert, so many causes of complaint against
him, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunity
of giving you that satisfaction you seem to ask of every one but of
himself." De Wardes passed his hand across his forehead, which was
covered with perspiration. "For shame, M. de Wardes! so quarrelsome
a disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of the edicts
against duels. Pray think of that; the king will be incensed at our
disobedience, particularly at such a time,--and his majesty will be in
the right."

"Excuses," murmured De Wardes; "mere pretexts."

"Re