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132 LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE. 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 Monsieur de Guiche — and with far greater reason indeed, because everywhere, and on every occasion. Mademoiselle de la Val- liere will be regarded as having been defended by this gen- erous champion." Manicamp perceived that there still remained some linger- ing doubt in the princess' heart. "A truly admirable service, indeed," he said, "is the one he has rendered to Mademoiselle de la Valliere! A truly admirable service to Monsieur de Bragelonne! The duel has created a sensation which, in some respects, casts a dis- honorable suspicion upon that young girl; a sensation, in- deed, which will imbroil her with the vicomte. The conse- quence 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 m France. Oh, madame! your logic is cold and calculating; it always condemns — it never absolves." Manicamp's concluding words scattered to the winds the last doubt which lingered, not in madame's heart, but in her head. She was no longer a princess full of scruples, nor a woman with her ever-returning suspicions, but one whose heart had just felt the mortal chill of a wound. "Wounded to death!" she murmured, in a faltering voice, "oh, Monsieur de Manicamp! did you not say wounded to death?" Manicamp returned no other answer than a deep sigh. "And so you said that the comte is dangerously wounded?" continued the princess. "Yes, madame; one of his hands is shattered, and he has a bullet lodged in his breast." "Gracious heavens!" resumed the princess, with a feverish excitement, "this is horrible. Monsieur de Manicamp! a