lest ornament; but this happy oblivion could not long endure, and
scarcely an hour had elapsed ere they were engaged in concerting new
measures to effect her recall to France.

For several weeks the presence of the Queen-mother in Antwerp was not
suspected, and during that brief interval of comparative repose not a
day passed in which the subject was not earnestly discussed; until at
length Rubens, who was aware that the retreat of his royal guest must be
ultimately discovered, resolved to undertake in person the mission of
peace in which so many others had previously failed.

"Suffer me, Madame," said the painter, "to proceed without delay to
Paris charged with a letter from your Majesty to the King your son. The
pretext for my journey shall be my desire to execute a portrait of my
friend, the Baron de Vicq, our Ambassador at the French Court; and as I
do not doubt that his Christian Majesty will honour me with a summons to
his presence, I will then deliver your despatch into his own hands. The
happy results of my former missions render me sanguine of success on
this occasion; while I pledge myself that should I unfortunately fail in
my attempt to awaken the affection of the King towards your Majesty, it
shall be from no want of zeal or perseverance in your cause."

"My noble Maestro!" exclaimed Marie de Medicis; "I would with confidence
trust my life in your hands. My sorrows have at least not alienated your
generous heart: and there still remains one being upon earth who can be
faithful when my gratitude is all that I can offer in return. Listen to
me, Rubens. Even yet I am convinced that Louis loves me; a conviction
which is shared by Richelieu; and therefore it is that he condemns me to
exile. He fears my influence over the mind of the King my son, and has
injured me too deeply to place any faith in my forgiveness. Our mutual
struggle has extended over long years, and I have become its victim. Yet
would I fain make another effort. I am old and heart-broken, and I pine
to terminate my wretched existence on the soil of France. Surely this is
not too much to ask, and more I will not seek to obtain. You were born
under a fortunate constellation, Pietro Paolo; and I have confidence in
your success. Go then, and may God guide and prosper you: but--beware
of the Cardinal!"

"Fear not, Madame," said the painter, as he rose from his knee, and
placed writing materials before the agitated Queen. "In so righteous a
cause I