the present she felt that she could breathe freely and give herself up unreservedly to the enjoyment of a visit which she was expecting from her sister Dorothea. [Sidenote: MAY, 1551] THE PALATINE'S VISIT] Since the restoration of peace in Germany, the Elector Palatine had devoted his time and money to the improvement of his ancestral castle at Heidelberg. His natural love of building found expression in the noble Renaissance court, with the lovely oriel and grand Hall of Mirrors, where we may still read "Frau Dorothea's" name, and the arms of the Three Kingdoms by the side of the Palatine's lion and the badge of the Golden Fleece. But the passion for travel and adventure was still strong in the old Palsgrave's breast, and when the last stone had been placed on the lofty bell-tower he and his wife set out, with a great company of courtiers and ladies, for Lorraine. They sailed down the Rhine to Coblenz, and, taking horse, rode through Treves and Metz, where Christina met them, and the whole party proceeded to Pont-à-Mousson and the Count of Vaudemont's castle at Nomény. Here they attended the christening of the Countess's daughter, and Frederic stood sponsor, while his wife was proxy for the French Queen, after whom the child was named. After a week of festivities, the party went on to a hunt at Condé, the Duke's fair château in the forest on the banks of the Moselle, and killed five stags. Hubert, who accompanied his master and gives every detail of the journey, relates how the Palatine, tired with the day's sport, accepted a seat in the Duchess's chariot, and how his companion, Count Jacob von Busch, being a big man, weighed down the carriage on one side, much to the amusement of Dorothea, who laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. But heavy rains had made the roads almost impassable, and presently the wheels caught in a rut and the chariot was upset. The ladies were covered with mud, and Dorothea's face was badly scratched; but she made light of the accident, and only laughed the more as, leaving the lumbering coach in the ditch, they mounted horses to ride to Nancy. At the gates of the city they were met by the young Duke Charles, a handsome boy of eight, who lifted his cap with charming grace, and, springing to the ground, embraced his uncle and aunt, and rode at their side, conversing in a way that amazed the Germans. "We all wondered," writes Hubert, "at the beauty and wisdom of the boy, who is indeed remarkably intelligent, and has been trained by his lady mother in all knowledge and courtesy."[443] [Sidenote: MAY, 1551] TOO LITTLE BEER]