fort, an immense crowd of French and Spanish, who occupied the heights, greeted with harmonious shouts the appearance of the royal carriage.  On an arch of triumph, erected on the Spanish side of the frontier, floated the flags of the three peoples placed under the sceptre of the Bourbons.  That of France was in the middle and seemed to protect those of Spain and Naples on either side.  Thus was indicated the mother branch of the three reigning families.  The adieux were made with effusion.  The Duchess of Berry fell at the feet of her father, who hastened to raise her and embrace her tenderly.  The two sisters threw themselves into each other’s arms.  Then they parted.

While the Bourbons of Naples were entering on the soil of Spain, the Duchess of Berry returned to Perpignan.  She left there the 14th, and the ovations were renewed along the route.  The 16th, she passed through Montpellier, where she admired the promenade of the Peyrou, whence are perceived the sea, the Pyrenees, and the Alps, and saw the foundations prepared for an equestrian statue of Louis XIV.  The 17th, at Tarascon, she breakfasted with the Marquis de Gras-Preville, and was present at the games instituted by good King Rene,—­tambourine dances and the races of the Tarasque.  The 18th, at Arles, she visited the Cloister of Saint Trophime, and the Roman circus.  About eighteen thousand persons were crowded on the ancient benches.  The galleries resounded with military music which, borne from echo to echo, spread beneath all the arches.  In the evening the entire city was illuminated.  From a balcony, the Princess assisted at a pegoulade, a sort of torchlight promenade of five or six hundred young people, who bore pieces of tarred rope lighted at one end.  She desired to see again these bizarre and picturesque effects of light, this joyous procession, this clamorous animation, and she had the enthusiastic cortege file a second time under her windows.  The 21st, she visited the Roman theatre at Orange, one of the most curious ruins of the world.  The 23d, she passed again through Lyons.  The 28th, she was at the Tuileries for dinner.

The Duchess of Berry returned enchanted with her journey.  Never had the throne of the Bourbons seemed to her more solid, never were the advantages of the family pact revealed in a more brilliant manner.  The Moniteur wrote:  “The Princess Marie-Christine has heard her name mingling in the air with that of her whose son is one day to be King of France.  Happy the new Queen, if her presence shall deliver Spain from the factions that still divide it, and if, finding beyond the mountains the same order, devotion, prosperity, as in our provinces, she can cry, ’There are no longer any Pyrenees.’”

The Duchess of Berry had not found the inclinations of the south less royalist than that of La Vendee.  Everywhere protestations were made to her, verging on lyrism, on idolatry; the idea of suspecting such demonstrations never crossed her mind.  She persuaded herself that France loved her as much as she loved France.