enraged than I."

"Except Monsieur le Marechal, your father, who would not have done at all
what you have done, Monsieur."

"What, then, would he have done?"

"He would very quietly have let this cure be burned by the other cures,
and would have said to me, 'Grandchamp, see that my horses have oats, and
let no one steal them'; or, 'Grandchamp, take care that the rain does not
rust my sword or wet the priming of my pistols'; for Monsieur le Marechal
thought of everything, and never interfered in what did not concern him.
That was his great principle; and as he was, thank Heaven, alike good
soldier and good general, he was always as careful of his arms as a
recruit, and would not have stood up against thirty young gallants with a
dress rapier."

Cinq-Mars felt the force of the worthy servitor's epigrammatic scolding,
and feared that he had followed him beyond the wood of Chaumont; but he
would not ask, lest he should have to give explanations or to tell a
falsehood or to command silence, which would at once have been taking him
into confidence on the subject. As the only alternative, he spurred his
horse and rode ahead of his old domestic; but the latter had not yet had
his say, and instead of keeping behind his master, he rode up to his left
and continued the conversation.

"Do you suppose, Monsieur, that I should allow you to go where you
please? No, Monsieur, I am too deeply impressed with the respect I owe
to Madame la Marquise, to give her an opportunity of saying to me:
'Grandchamp, my son has been killed with a shot or with a sword; why were