for the name of D'Estrees still acted like a
spell upon the mind and heart of Henry, and the Duchess was a consummate
tactician. Notice was given to her of the day on which the sovereign
would visit St. Denis; and as she presented herself in the lateral
chapel where he had just concluded his devotions, Henry made a sign for
his attendant nobles to withdraw, when the Duchess found herself in a
position to explain her errand, and to assure him that she had only been
induced to make the present disclosure from her affection for his
person, and the gratitude which she owed to him for the many benefits
that she had experienced from his condescension. Having briefly dwelt on
the contents of the letters which she delivered into his keeping, she
did not even seek an excuse for the means by which they had come into
her own possession, but concluded by observing: "I could not reconcile
it to my conscience, Sire, to conceal so great an outrage; I should have
felt like a criminal myself, had I been capable of suffering in silence
such treason against the greatest king, the best master, and the most
gallant gentleman on earth." [163]

Henry was not proof against this compliment. He believed himself to be
all that the Duchess had asserted, but he liked to hear his own opinion
confirmed by the lips of others; and, although smarting under the
mortification of wounded vanity occasioned by the contents of the
letters of his perfidious mistress, he smiled complacently upon Madame
de Villars, thanking her for her zeal and attachment to his person, and
assuring her that both were fully appreciated.

She had no sooner retired than, as the Queen had previously done, he
repeatedly read over each letter in turn until his patience gave way
under the task; when hastily summoning the Duc de Lude, he desired him
to forthwith proceed to the apartments of the Marquise, and inform her
in his name that "she was a perfidious woman, a monster, and the most
wicked of her sex; and that he was resolved never to see her
again." [164]

At this period Madame de Verneuil had quitted the palace, and was
residing in an hotel in the city, which had been presented to her by the
King: a fortunate circumstance for the envoy, who required time and
consideration to enable him to execute his onerous mission in a manner
that might not tend to his own subsequent discomfiture; but on the
delivery of the royal message, which even the courtly De Lude could not
divest of i