you assume to know, my lord, that I am wrong?"

"Yes."

"Whom is it that he loves, then?" exclaimed the young girl.

"He loves a woman who is unworthy of him," said Buckingham, with that
calm, collected manner peculiar to an Englishman.

Miss Grafton uttered a cry, which, together with the remark that
Buckingham had that moment made, spread over De Bragelonne's features a
deadly paleness, arising from the sudden surprise, and also from a vague
fear of impending misfortune. "My lord," he exclaimed, "You have just
pronounced words which compel me, without a moment's delay, to seek
their explanation at Paris."

"You will remain here," said Buckingham, "because you have no right to
leave: and no one has the right to quit the service of the king for that
of any woman, even were she as worthy of being loved as Mary Grafton
is."

"You will tell me all, then?"

"I will, on condition that you will remain."

"I will remain, if you will promise to speak openly, and without
reserve."

Thus far had their conversation proceeded, and Buckingham, in all
probability, was on the point of revealing, not indeed all that had
taken place, but at least all he was aware of, when one of the king's
attendants appeared at the end of the terrace, and advanced toward the
summer-house where the king was sitting with Lucy Stewart. A courier
followed him, covered with dust from head to foot, and who seemed as if
he had but a few moments before dismounted from his horse.

"The courier from France! Madame's courier!" exclaimed Raoul,
recognizing the princess's livery; and while the attendant and the
courier advanced toward the king, Buckingham and Miss Grafton exchanged
a look full of intelligence with each other.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE COURIER FROM MADAME.

Charles II. was busily engaged in proving, or in endeavoring to prove,
to Miss Stewart, that she was the only person for whom he cared at all,
and consequently he was swearing for her an affection similar to that
which his ancestor Henry IV. had entertained for Gabrielle.
Unfortunately for Charles II. he had hit upon an unlucky day, upon a day
when Miss Stewart had taken it into her head to make him jealous, and
therefore, instead of being touched by his offer, as the king had hoped,
she laughed heartily. "Oh! sire, sire," she cried, laughing all the
while; "if I were to be unfortunate enough to ask you for a proof of the
affection you profess, how easy it would be to see that