Many nobles and people of condition, and half the population of Bordeaux, came down to the port with her, uttering lamentations, benedictions on her and her boy, and curses on Mazarin.

While about to embark she met Marshal de la Meilleraye, who advised her to go and see the Queen at Bourg, and she accordingly put herself under his direction, Cecile of course accompanying her as her attendant.  The Duke of Damville came to fetch them in a carriage, and after alighting at Marshal de la Meilleraye’s quarters, kind messages of inquiry were sent them by the Court, even by the King and Queen.  By every one indeed except Mademoiselle, who kept up her dislike.

My son, who was present, described all to me, and how his blood boiled at the scornful airs of Mademoiselle and the stiffness of the Queen.  He said, however, that his aunt looked quite like a changed woman as she entered, leading Maurice in the rear of the other mother and son.

The poor Princess had been bled the day before, and had her arm in a scarf, and Mademoiselle actually tittered at the manner in which it was put on, when this devoted wife was presented to the Queen, leading her little son.

Falling on her knees before the Queen she made her a really touching speech, begging her to excuse the attempts of a lady who had the honour of being married to the first Prince of the blood, when she strove to break his fetters.  ’You see us on our knees, Madame, to beg for the liberty of what is dearest to us.  Grant it to the great actions the Monsieur mon mari has performed for the glory of your Majesty, and the life he has ventured so often in the service of the State, and do not refuse our tears and humble prayers.’

The Queen answered coldly enough.  Cecile told me afterwards that it was like ice, dashing all her hopes, to see the stern, haughty dignity of Anne of Austria unmoved by the tender, tearful, imploring form of Claire Clemence de Breze, trembling all over with agitation, and worn down with all she had attempted.  ‘I am glad, cousin,’ said the Queen, ’that you know your fault.  You see you have taken a bed method of obtaining what you ask.  Now your conduct is to be different, I will see whether I can give you what you desire.’

In spite of her fright and the Queen’s chilly pride, Cecile, feeling that this was her only chance, fell almost on her face before the Queen, with Maurice by her side, and cried:  ’Grace, grace, great Queen, for my husband.’

My little Marquis, as he told me, could not bear to see them thus alone, so he ran forward, and knelt on her other side, holding her hand.  And he heard a horrid little laugh, something about a new edition and an imitation; but the Queen, who had forgotten all about her, asked who she was and what her husband was.

Then, when it was explained that the Count d’Aubepine had drawn his sword and tried to aid Boutteville, there was another smile.  Perhaps it was that the contrast might mortify the poor Princess, but the Queen said: