At length, after nearly three weeks of waiting, during which Henrietta's health and spirits flagged a little, the twenty-second day of June dawned calm and fair, and it was decided that the voyage should be made. Heretofore the Queen of England had been her brother's guest, but now, on the eve of embarking, she was delivered over to the care of the Duke of Buckingham, and the deed of consignation was signed by that nobleman and by the two French Ambassadors, to witness that the responsibility of the latter was ended. After the little ceremony the Queen was escorted to the quay by her brother. She went on board the beautiful ship, _The Prince_, which her husband had sent for her. The preparations for departure were quickly made. The moment came when she clung in a last embrace to Gaston. Then the sails were unfurled, and _The Prince_ rode proudly out of Boulogne harbour. As Henrietta stood gazing upon the rapidly receding cliffs of France, did any foreboding of the future come over her, any presage of coming grief such as weighed upon the heart of her husband's grandmother, Mary of Scotland, on a similar occasion? Did any shadow of that day nearly twenty years later, when, a fugitive pursued by unrelenting foes, she would see again her native land, darken her spirit? We cannot tell. We only know that she had a moment's _serrement de coeur_, such as any girl might feel on leaving home, and that she was a little afraid of sea-sickness. No inconvenience, however, arose. Charles' care had caused his bride's cabin to be so beautified that she might have imagined herself in her own Louvre rather than on the sea; and to complete the illusion a choice concert of delicate instruments and sweet voices was in readiness to amuse her. Moreover, no precaution was omitted which might ensure the safety of so precious a freight. _The Prince_ and the vessels which formed her escort carried the most experienced pilots that could be obtained, whose work was so well done (though unfortunately it was never paid for) that in four-and-twenty hours the Channel was crossed. Dover harbour was safely made, and amidst a throng of interested spectators Henrietta Maria touched the soil of her new kingdom. It was noticed that immediately on her arrival the wind rose again with its former violence, and that the sea was again troubled as if for her alone they had stilled their raging. It was now evening, and as the Queen, in spite of the pleasures of the little voyage which seemed to have restored her health and spirits, confessed to great fatigue, she was allowed to retire at once and to postpone until the next day the meeting with her husband. M. de Chevreuse and M. de Ville-aux-Clercs wrote a formal letter to their master, informing him of his sister's happy arrival, while the King of England awaited, with as much patience as he could command, the morrow which was to give to his arms the bride who had tarried so long.