ashing and
trumpets pealing. After the King, in a hundred carriages each drawn by
six horses, came the most splendid aristocracy of Europe, all feathers,
ribands, jewels, and embroidery. Before the procession had gone far it
was announced that Mary was approaching. Lewis alighted and advanced
on foot to meet her. She broke forth into passionate expressions of
gratitude. "Madam," said her host, "it is but a melancholy service that
I am rendering you to day. I hope that I may be able hereafter to render
you services greater and more pleasing." He embraced the little Prince
of Wales, and made the Queen seat herself in the royal state coach on
the right hand. The cavalcade then turned towards Saint Germains.

At Saint Germains, on the verge of a forest swarming with beasts of
chase, and on the brow of a hill which looks down on the windings of the
Seine, Francis the First had built a castle, and Henry the Fourth had
constructed a noble terrace. Of the residences of the French kings none
stood in a more salubrious air or commanded a fairer prospect. The huge
size and venerable age of the trees, the beauty of the gardens, the
abundance of the springs, were widely famed. Lewis the Fourteenth had
been born there, had, when a young man, held his court there, had added
several stately pavilions to the mansion of Francis, and had completed
the terrace of Henry. Soon, however, the magnificent King conceived an
inexplicable disgust for his birthplace. He quitted Saint Germains for
Versailles, and expended sums almost fabulous in the vain attempt to
create a paradise on a spot singularly sterile and unwholesome, all sand
or mud, without wood, without water, and without game. Saint Germains
had now been selected to be the abode of the royal family of England.
Sumptuous furniture had been hastily sent in. The nursery of the Prince
of Wales had been carefully furnished with everything that an infant
could require. One of the attendants presented to the Queen the key of
a superb casket which stood in her apartment. She opened the casket, and
found in it six thousand pistoles.

On the following day James arrived at Saint Germains. Lewis was already
there to welcome him. The unfortunate exile bowed so low that it seemed
as if he was about to embrace the knees of his protector. Lewis raised
him, and embraced him with brotherly tenderness. The two Kings then
entered the Queen's room. "Here is a gentleman," said Lewis to Mary,
"whom you will