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 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-in-law; 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 sil