his person. It was the best
bargain he had ever made, and he should take care to preserve it at any
cost whatever, for he considered himself able, when closely united with
them, to bid defiance to all the kings in Europe together.

Yet it was now the settled policy of the Queen-Regent's council, so far
as the knot of politicians guided by the Nuncius and the Spanish
ambassador in the entresols of the Louvre could be called a council, to
force the States to refund that third, estimated at something between
three and four million livres, which France had advanced them on account
of Great Britain.

Villeroy told the two ambassadors at this interview that, if Great
Britain continued to treat the Queen-Regent in such fashion, she would be
obliged to look about for other allies. There could hardly be doubt as to
the quarter in which Mary de' Medici was likely to look. Meantime, the
Secretary of State urged the envoys "to intervene at once to-mediate the
difference." There could be as little doubt that to mediate the
difference was simply to settle an account which they did not owe.

The whole object of the Minister at this first interview was to induce
the States to take the whole Cleve enterprise upon their own shoulders,
and to let France off altogether. The Queen-Regent as then advised meant
to wash her hands of the possessory princes once and for ever. The envoys
cut the matter short by assuring Villeroy that they would do nothing of
the kind. He begged them piteously not to leave the princes in the lurch,
and at the same time not to add to the burthens of France at so
disastrous a moment.

So they parted. Next day, however, they visited the Secretary again, and
found him more dismal and flaccid than ever.

He spoke feebly and drearily about the succour for the great enterprise,
recounted all the difficulties in the way, and, having thrown down
everything that the day before had been left standing, he tried to excuse
an entire change of policy by the one miserable crime.

He painted a forlorn picture of the council and of France. "I can myself
do nothing as I wish," added the undisputed controller of that
government's policy, and then with a few more tears he concluded by
requesting the envoys to address their demands to the Queen in writing.

This was done with the customary formalities and fine speeches on both
sides; a dull comedy by which no one was amused.

Then Bouillon came again, and assured them that ther