bbe le Bouthilier de Rance
went straight to his convent, where the inmates were persevering enough
to be silent, fast, dig, catch their death of cold, and beat themselves
for him.

Madame Cormeil, wishing to have a good look at the man, sent to inform
him of her illness. Would-be saints are much afraid of words with a
double meaning. In no whit disconcerted, he replied that he had devoted
his entire zeal to the poor in spirit, and that Madame Cormeil was not of
their number.

CHAPTER XLVI.

The Court Goes to Flanders.--Nancy.--Ravon.--Sainte Marie aux
Mines.--Dancing and Death.--A German Sovereign's Respectful Visit.--The
Young Strasburg Priests.--The Good Bailiff of Chatenoi.--The Bridge at
Brisach.--The Capucin Monk Presented to the Queen.

Before relating that which I have to say about the Queen and her
precautions against myself, I would not omit certain curious incidents
during the journey that the King caused us to take in Alsatia and
Flanders, when he captured Maestricht and Courtrai.

The King having left us behind at Nancy, a splendid town where a large
proportion of the nobility grieved for the loss of Messieurs de Lorraine,
their legitimate sovereigns, the Queen soon saw that here she was more
honoured than beloved. It was this position which suggested to her the
idea of going to Spa, close by, and of taking the waters for some days.

If the Infanta was anxious to escape from the frigid courtesies of the
Lorraine aristocracy, I also longed to have a short holiday, and to keep
away from the Queen, as well for the sake of her peace of mind as for my
own. My doctor forbade me to take the Spa waters, as they were too
sulphurous; he ordered me those of Pont-a-Mousson. Hardly had I moved
there, when orders came for us all to meet at Luneville, and thence we
set out to rejoin the King.

Horrible was the first night of our journey spent at Ravon, in the Vosges
Mountains. The house in which Mademoiselle de Montpensier and I lodged
was a dilapidated cottage, full of holes, and propped up in several
places. Lying in bed, we heard the creaking of the beams and rafters.
Two days afterwards the house, so they told us, collapsed.

From that place we went on to Sainte Marie aux Mines, a mean sort of
town, placed like a long corridor between two lofty, well-wooded
mountains, which even at noonday deprive it of sun. Close by there is a
shallow, rock-bound streamlet which divides Lorraine from Alsace.