"The pedagogue is here, and has overheard you." De Wardes, at the sound of Raoul's voice, which he recognized without having occasion to look at him, half drew his sword.
"Put up your sword," said Raoul; "you know perfectly well that, until our journey is at an end, every demonstration of that nature is useless.
Why do you distill into the heart of the man you term your friend all the bitterness that infects your own?
As regards myself, you wish to arouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor--my father's friend and my own; and as for the count you wish him to love one who is destined for your master.

Really, monsieur, I should regard you as a coward, and a traitor too, if I did not, with greater justice, regard you as a madman." "Monsieur," exclaimed De Wardes, exasperated, "I was deceived, I find, in terming you a pedagogue.

The tone you assume, and the style which is peculiarly your own, is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman.
Discontinue, I beg, whenever I am present, this style I complain of, and the tone also.

I hate M.d'Artagnan, because he was guilty of a cowardly act towards my father." "You lie, monsieur," said Raoul, coolly.
"You give me the lie, monsieur ?" exclaimed De Wardes.
"Why not, if what you assert is untrue ?" "You give me the lie, and will not draw your sword ?" "I have resolved, monsieur, not to kill you until Madame shall have been delivered safely into her husband's hands." "Kill me! Believe me, monsieur, your schoolmaster's rod does not kill so easily." "No," replied Raoul, sternly, "but M.d'Artagnan's sword kills; and, not only do I possess his sword, but he has himself taught me how to use it; and with that sword, when a befitting time arrives, I will avenge his name--a name you have dishonored." "Take care, monsieur," exclaimed De Wardes; "if you do not immediately give me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revenge myself." "Indeed, monsieur," said Buckingham, suddenly, appearing upon the scene of action, "that is a threat which savors of assassination, and therefore, ill becomes a gentleman." "What did you say, my lord ?" said De Wardes, turning round towards him.
"I said, monsieur, that the words you have just spoken are displeasing to my English ears." "Very well, monsieur, if what you say is true," exclaimed De Wardes, thoroughly incensed, "I at least find in you one who will not escape me.
Understand my words as you like." "I take them in the manner they cannot but be understood," replied Buckingham, with that haughty tone which characterized him, and which, even in ordinary conversation, gave a tone of defiance to everything he said; "M.

de Bragelonne is my friend, you insult M.de Bragelonne, and you shall give me satisfaction for that insult." De Wardes cast a look upon De Bragelonne, who, faithful to the character he had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke's defiance.
"It would seem that I did not insult M.de Bragelonne, since M.de Bragelonne, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himself insulted." "At all events you insult someone." "Yes, I insulted M.d'Artagnan," resumed De Wardes, who had observed that this was the only means of stinging Raoul, so as to awaken his anger.
"That, then," said Buckingham, "is another matter." "Precisely so," said De Wardes; "it is the province of M.d'Artagnan's friends to defend him." "I am entirely of your opinion," replied the duke, who had regained all his indifference of manner; "if M.de Bragelonne were offended, I could not reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himself here; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M.d'Artagnan--" "You will of course leave me to deal with the matter," said De Wardes.
"Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword," said Buckingham, unsheathing it as he spoke; "for if M.d'Artagnan injured your father, he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a great service to mine." De Wardes was thunderstruck.
"M.