"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.