At last Clement made up his mind. He would brave the fury of the waves, and risk the attacks of the corsairs, in order to conquer the _soldiers of Pilate_ and give a royal husband to his niece. The galleys of France, commanded by the Duke of Albany, left Marseilles in September to fetch the pope, who had gone to Pisa, making a boast, wherever he went, of the most noble disinterestedness. 'I am going to this interview,' he said, 'in order to procure the peace of Europe, to prepare an expedition against the infidels, to lead back the King of England to the right path, and, in a word, solely for the interests of christendom.' Then, after thus disguising himself, like the wolf in the fable, under a borrowed dress, he showed the tip of his ear, and begged the Duke of Albany to escort _their common relative_ to Nice, where she would wait for further orders. The honour done to his family was so great that doubts were continually arising in his mind about the trustworthiness of the French king's promises. He would not take his niece with him to Marseilles, for fear he should have to bring her back. He will see Francis alone first; he will speak to him and sound him. Clement believed that his piercing eye would read the king's heart to the very bottom. When all his fears are removed, Catherine shall come to France; but until then, she shall only go part of the way.[465] The young lady departed for Nice, and people said, pointing to her as they saw her going on board ship: 'There is the real cause of the strange journey of a pope to France! If it were a matter touching the safety of the Church, Clement would not do so much; but it is to place a Medici beside a throne, and perhaps set her upon it.'... The French fleet put to sea: the ship, on whose mainmast the standard of France had been hoisted, exhibited a sight at once gay and sad. Beneath the flags and banners, at the side of the Duke of Albany, and in the midst of a brilliant retinue, might be seen a kind of little fairy, who was then making her first appearance in the world. She was a young creature, of middle stature, with sparkling eyes and bell-like voice, who appeared to possess some supernatural power, and singularly fascinated every one that came near her. Her enchantments and her philtres were the subtle poison on which the papacy relied for destroying heresy. This child, between thirteen and fourteen years of age, skipped with joy about the stately ship. 'I am going to be the daughter-in-law of the glorious King of France,' she said to herself. Death, with whom this strange creature seemed to have made a secret and terrible treaty, was in truth erelong to raise her to the summit of power. The galleys of Albany, after having conveyed _the girl_ to Nice (it is Guicciardini's word), returned to Leghorn, the port of Pisa, and on the 4th of October the pope, with the cardinals and all his household, put to sea. [Sidenote: PAPAL PLANS, FRENCH HOPES.]