CHAPTER LXXXVIII.

FATALITY.

The next morning, about nine o’clock, the beautiful rays of the sun were glistening like gold on the graveled walks of Chateau-Thierry.  Numerous gangs of workmen, who had the previous evening been directed to be in attendance, had been actively at work from daybreak upon the preparations in the park, as well as in the decoration of the apartments destined to receive the king, whose arrival was momentarily expected.  As yet nothing was stirring in the pavilion where the duke reposed, for he had on the previous evening forbidden his two old servants to awaken him.  They were to wait until he summoned them.  Toward half-past nine two couriers rode at full speed into the town, announcing his majesty’s near arrival.  The civic authorities, the governor, and the garrison formed themselves in ranks on either side of the road, leaving a passage for the royal procession.  At ten o’clock the king appeared at the foot of the hill; he had mounted his horse when they had taken their last relays.  He never neglected an opportunity of doing so, especially when entering towns, as he rode admirably.  The queen-mother followed him in a litter; fifty gentlemen belonging to the court, richly clad and admirably mounted, followed in their suite.  A company of the guards, followed by Crillon himself, a hundred and twenty of the Swiss, and as many of the Scotch guards, commanded by Larchant, and all the members of the royal household who accompanied the king in his excursions, mules, coffers, and domestic servants, formed a numerous army, the files of which followed the windings of the road leading from the river to the summit of the hill.  Lastly, the cortege entered the town amid the ringing of the church bells, the roar of cannon, and bursts of music.  The acclamations of the inhabitants were enthusiastic; for a visit from the king was of such rare occurrence at that time that, seen thus closely, he seemed to be a living embodiment of divine right.  The king, as he progressed through the crowd, looked on all sides for his brother, but in vain.  He only found Henri du Bouchage waiting for him at the gate of the chateau.

When once within the chateau, Henri III. inquired after the health of the Duc d’Anjou from the officer who had assumed the high distinction of receiving the king.

“Sire,” replied the latter, “his highness, during the last few days, has been residing in the pavilion in the park, and we have not yet seen him this morning.  It is most probable, however, that as he was well yesterday, he is well also to-day.”

“This pavilion is in a very retired part of the park, it seems,” said Henri, in a tone of displeasure, “since the sound of the cannon does not seem to have been heard.”

“Sire,” one of the duke’s two aged attendants ventured to remark, “his highness did not, perhaps, expect your majesty so soon.”