e was listening to this recital, delivered with
the greatest simplicity, the duke looked from time to time at the
young man with astonishment, as if he could not comprehend how so much
prudence, courage, and devotedness could be allied with a countenance
which indicated not more than twenty years.

The horses went like the wind, and in a few minutes they were at the
gates of London. D'Artagnan imagined that on arriving in town the duke
would slacken his pace, but it was not so. He kept on his way at the
same rate, heedless about upsetting those whom he met on the road. In
fact, in crossing the city two or three accidents of this kind happened;
but Buckingham did not even turn his head to see what became of those
he had knocked down. d'Artagnan followed him amid cries which strongly
resembled curses.

On entering the court of his hotel, Buckingham sprang from his horse,
and without thinking what became of the animal, threw the bridle on his
neck, and sprang toward the vestibule. D'Artagnan did the same, with a
little more concern, however, for the noble creatures, whose merits he
fully appreciated; but he had the satisfaction of seeing three or four
grooms run from the kitchens and the stables, and busy themselves with
the steeds.

The duke walked so fast that d'Artagnan had some trouble in keeping up
with him. He passed through several apartments, of an elegance of which
even the greatest nobles of France had not even an idea, and arrived
at length in a bedchamber which was at once a miracle of taste and of
richness. In the alcove of this chamber was a door concealed in the
tapestry which the duke opened with a little gold key which he wore
suspended from his neck by a chain of the same metal. With discretion
d'Artagnan remained behind; but at the moment when Buckingham crossed
the threshold, he turned round, and seeing the hesitation of the young
man, "Come in!" cried he, "and if you have the good fortune to be
admitted to her Majesty's presence, tell her what you have seen."

Encouraged by this invitation, d'Artagnan followed the duke, who closed
the door after them. The two found themselves in a small chapel covered
with a tapestry of Persian silk worked with gold, and brilliantly
lighted with a vast number of candles. Over a species of altar, and
beneath a canopy of blue velvet, surmounted by white and red plumes, was
a full-length portrait of Anne of Austria, so perfect in its resemblance
that d'Artagnan uttere