The princess concealed her face in her hands. "Monsieur, monsieur!" she
exclaimed; "do you know what you are saying, and to whom you are
speaking?"

"Therefore, madame," pursued Manicamp, as if he had not heard the
exclamations of the princess, "nothing will astonish you any
longer--neither the comte's ardor in seeking the quarrel, nor his
wonderful address in transferring it to a quarter foreign to your own
personal interests. That latter circumstance was, indeed, a marvelous
instance of tact and perfect coolness, and if the person in whose behalf
the comte so fought and shed his blood does, in reality, owe some
gratitude to the poor wounded sufferer, it is not on account of the
blood he has shed, or for the agony he has suffered, but for the steps
he has taken to preserve from comment or reflection an honor which is
more precious to him than his own."

"Oh!" cried Madame, as if she had been alone, "is it possible the
quarrel was on my account!"

Manicamp felt he could now breathe for a moment--and gallantly had he
won the right to do so. Madame, on her side, remained for some time
plunged in a painful reverie. Her agitation could be seen by her quick
respiration, by her languishing looks, by the frequency with which she
pressed her hand upon her heart. But, in her, coquetry was not so much a
passive quality, as, on the contrary, a fire which sought for fuel to
maintain itself, and which found what it required.

"If it be as you assert," she said, "the comte will have obliged two
persons at the same time; for Monsieur de Bragelonne also owes a deep
debt of gratitude to M. de Guiche--and with far greater reason, indeed,
because everywhere, and on every occasion, Mademoiselle de la Valliere
will be regarded as having been defended by this generous champion."

Manicamp perceived that there still remained some lingering doubt in the
princess's heart. "A truly admirable service indeed," he said, "is the
one he has rendered to Mademoiselle de la Valliere! A truly admirable
service to M. de Bragelonne! The duel has created a sensation which, in
some respects, casts a dishonorable suspicion upon that young girl; a
sensation, indeed, which will embroil her with the vicomte. The
consequence is, that De Wardes' pistol-bullet has had three results
instead of one; it destroys at the same time the honor of a woman, the
happiness of a man, and, perhaps, it has wounded to death one of the
best gentlemen in France. Oh, madame!