“Sire,” I replied, “in no other spot could a more magnificent view be found.  Yonder river winding afar through the vast plain, that noble forest divided by hunting roads into squares, that Calvary poised high in air, those bridges placed here and there to add to the attractiveness of the landscape, those flowery meadows set in the foreground as a rest to the eye, the broad stream of the Seine, which seemingly is fain to flow at a slower rate below your palace windows,—­I do not think that any more charming combination of objects could be met with elsewhere, unless one went a long way from the capital.”

“The chateau of Saint Germain no longer pleases me,” replied the King.  “I shall enlarge Versailles and withdraw thither.  What I am going to say may astonish you, perhaps, as it comes from me, who am neither a whimsical female nor a prey to superstition.  A few days before the Queen, my mother, had her final seizure, I was walking here alone in this very spot.  A reddish light appeared above the monastery of Saint Denis, and a cloud which rose out of the ruddy glare assumed the shape of a hearse bearing the arms of Austria.  A few days afterwards my poor mother was removed to Saint Denis.  Four or five days before the horrible death of our adorable Henrietta, the arrows of Saint Denis appeared to me in a dream covered in dusky flames, and amid them I saw the spectre of Death, holding in his hand the necklaces and bracelets of a young lady.  The appalling death of my cousin followed close upon this presage.  Henceforth, the view of Saint Denis spoils all these pleasant landscapes for me.  At Versailles fewer objects confront the eye; a park of that sort has its own wealth of natural beauty, which suffices.  I shall make Versailles a delightful resort, for which France will be grateful to me, and which my successors can neither neglect nor destroy without bringing to themselves dishonour.”

I sympathised with the reasons which made Saint Germain disagreeable to his Majesty.  Next summer the causes for such aversion became more numerous, as the King had the misfortune to lose the daughters which the Queen bore him, and they were carried to Saint Denis.

CHAPTER XXII.

M. de Lauzun.—­His Pretensions.—­Erroneous Ideas of the Public.—­The War in Candia.—­M. de Lauzun Thinks He Will Secure a Throne for Himself.—­The King Does Not Wish This.

The Marquis de Guilain de Lauzun was, and still is, one of the handsomest men at Court.  Before my marriage, vanity prompted him to belong to the list of my suitors, but as his reputation in Paris was that of a man who had great success with the ladies, my family requested him either to come to the point or to retire, and he withdrew, though unwilling to break matters off altogether.

When he saw me in the bonds of matrimony, and enjoying its liberty, he recommenced his somewhat equivocal pursuit of me, and managed to get himself talked about at my expense.  Society was unjust; M. de Lauzun only dared to pay me homage of an insipid sort.  He had success enough in other quarters, and I knew what I owed to some one as well as what I owed to myself.