A second carriage of prodigious size followed the ducal conveyance; in this were twelve ladies and gentlemen, who got out and made their obeisance to the King and Queen.

The Prince de Mont-Beliard did not get into his coach again until ours were in motion.  He spoke French fairly well, and the little he said was said with much grace.  He looked very hard at me, which shocked the Queen greatly, but not the King.

A little further on, their Majesties were greeted by the delegates of the noble chapter of Strasburg.  These comprised the Count of Manderhall and two canons.  What canons, too!  And how astonished we were!

The old Count was dressed in a black cassock, and his hair looked somewhat like a cleric’s, but his cravat was tied with a large flame-coloured bow, and he wore ill-fitting hose of the same hue.  As for the two canons, they were pleasant young men, good-looking and well-made.  Their light gray dress was edged with black and gold; they wore their hair long in wavy curls, and in their little black velvet caps they had yellow and black feathers, and their silver-mounted swords were like those worn by our young courtiers.  Their equipment was far superior to that of the deputation of the Prince de Mont-Beliard.  It is true, they were churchmen, and churchmen have only themselves and their personal satisfaction to consider.

These gentlemen accompanied us as far as Chatenoi, a little town in their neighbourhood, and here they introduced the bailiff of the town to the King, who was to remain constantly in attendance and act as interpreter.

The bailiff spoke French with surprising ease.  He had been formerly tutor at President Tambonneaux’s, an extremely wealthy man, who entertained the Court, the town, and all the cleverest men of the day.  The King soon became friends with the bailiff, and kept him the whole time close to his carriage.

When travelling, the King is quite another man.  He puts off his gravity of demeanour, and likes to amuse his companions, or else make his companions amuse him.  Believing him to be like Henri IV. in temper, the bailiff was for asking a thousand questions.  Some of these the King answered; to others he gave no reply.

“Sire,” said he to his Majesty, “your town of Paris has a greater reputation than it actually deserves.  They say you are fond of building; then Paris ought to have occasion to remember your reign.  Allow me to express a hope that her principal streets will be widened, that her temples, most of them of real beauty, may be isolated.  You should add to the number of her bridges, quays, public baths, almshouses and infirmaries.”

The King smiled.  “Come and see us in four or five years,” he rejoined, “or before that, if you like, and if your affairs permit you to do so.  You will be pleased to see what I have already done.”

Then the bailiff, approaching my carriage window, addressed a few complimentary remarks to myself.