“Now is my time to make my peace with this gentleman，” said D’Artagnan to himself， having kept at a little distance all the latter part of the conversation； and with this good feeling he drew near to Aramis， who was going away without paying any attention to him.
“Sir，” said he， “you will excuse me， I hope.”
“Ah！” interrupted Aramis， “allow me to call to your attention that you have not acted in this affair as a man of good breeding ought to have.”
“What！” cried D’Artagnan； “you suppose—”
“I suppose， sir， that you are not a fool， and that you know very well， although coming from Gascony， that people do not tread upon pocket handkerchiefs without a reason. What the devil！ Paris is not paved with cambric！”
“Sir， you do wrong in endeavouring to mortify me，” said D’Artagnan， to whom his quarrelsome nature began to speak more loudly than his pacific resolutions. “I am from Gascony， it is true； and since you know it， there is no need of telling you that Gascons are not very patient， so that when they have asked pardon once， were it even for a folly， they are convinced that they have done already at least as much again as they ought to have done.”
“Sir， what I say to you about the matter，” said Aramis， “is not for the sake of seeking a quarrel. Thank God， I am not a bully； and being a musketeer only for a time， I only fight when I am forced to do so， and always with great repugnance. But this time the affair is serious， for here is a lady compromised by you.”
“By us， you mean，” cried D’Artagnan.
“Why did you so awkwardly give me the handkerchief？”
“Why did you so awkwardly let it fall？”
“I have said， sir， that the handkerchief did not fall from my pocket.”
“Well， and by saying so you have lied twice， sir， for I saw it fall.”
“Oh， oh！ you take it up in that way， do you， Master Gascon？ Well， I will teach you how to behave yourself.”
“And I will send you back to your mass-book， Master Abbé. Draw， if you please， and right away.”“Not at all， if you please， my good friend—not here， at least. Do you not perceive that we are opposite the H？tel d’Aiguillon， which is full of the cardinal’s creatures？ How do I know that it is not his Eminence who has honoured you with the commission to bring him my head？ Now I really entertain a ridiculous partiality for my head， because it seems to suit my shoulders so admirably. I have no objection to killing you， depend upon that， but quietly， in a snug， remote place， where you will not be able to boast of your death to anybody.”
“I agree， sir； but do not be too confident. Take away your handkerchief. Whether it belongs to you or another， you may， perhaps， stand in need of it.”
“The gentleman is a Gascon？” asked Aramis.
“Yes. The gentleman does not postpone a meeting through prudence.”
“Prudence， sir， is a virtue quite useless to musketeers， I know， but indispensable to churchmen； and as I am only a musketeer provisionally， I deem it best to be prudent. At two o’clock I shall have the honour of expecting you at the h？tel of M. de Tréville. There I will point out to you the best place and time.”
The two young men bowed and separated， Aramis ascending the street which led to the Luxembourg， while D’Artagnan， perceiving that the appointed hour was approaching， took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux， saying to himself， “Decidedly I can’t draw back； but at least， if I am killed， I shall be killed by a musketeer！”
