"I am come to ask your pardon, madame," he said, in a low voice.

"Oh, monsieur--no more, I beg you." She looked down; her hands
were trembling, her cheeks going red and white by turns.

He put his head behind the curtains of the coach, so that none
might see him from outside, and looking at him now, she beheld
tears in his eyes.

"Do not misunderstand me, madame. I ask your pardon only for
having discomposed you, startled you. As for what I said, it were
idle to ask pardon, since I could no more help saying it than I
can help drawing breath. I obeyed an instinct stronger than the
will to live. I gave expression to something that dominates my
whole being, and will ever dominate it as long as I have life.
Adieu, madame! At need you know where a servant who will gladly
die for you is to be found." He kissed the hem of her robe,
dashed the back of his hand across his eyes, and was gone before
she could say a word in answer.

She sat pale, and very thoughtful, and the Princesse de Conti,
watching her furtively, observed that her eyes were moist.

"I will answer for the Queen's virtue," she stated afterwards,
"but I cannot speak so positively for the hardness of her heart,
since without doubt the Duke's tears affected her spirits."

But it was not yet the end. As Buckingham was nearing Calais, he
was met by a courier from Whitehall, with instructions for him
regarding the negotiations he had been empowered to carry out