Henry and Margaret having quitted Nérac for Pau, where they intended passing the winter, had reached those picturesque heights, separated by a ravine, on which the city stands, and had entered the castle. The queen had found pleasure in adorning it with the most magnificent gardens then known in Europe, and liked to walk in them, conversing with Cardinal de Foix, the Bishop of Tarbes, and many other distinguished persons who admired her wit and grace. And yet these ecclesiastics often caused her 'much vexation.' Surrounded by persons who made a regular report to Francis I., watched by the king her husband and the dignitaries of the Church who were at her court, this pious but weak woman bent under the weight. She began the day by attending morning service in the catholic church of the parish; then in the afternoon she privately collected in her chamber the evangelical members of her court, and the little band of exiles, with a few men and women of the people who, coming forward awkwardly, took their seats timidly on the handsome furniture of the queen. Roussel, Lefèvre, or some other minister, delivered an exhortation, and the little assembly separated, feeling that God had really been present in the midst of them.[73] [Sidenote: THE LORD'S SUPPER AT PAU.] One day some of these humble believers desired to partake of the Lord's Supper. The queen was embarrassed: she did not dare celebrate it in the church, nor even in her own room, lest one of the cardinals should enter suddenly.... After some reflection Margaret thought she had found what was wanted. Under the terrace of the castle there was a large hall called _the Mint_, a secret underground place that could be approached without attracting notice. By the queen's orders her servants privately carried a table there, covered it with a white cloth, and placed a basin on it containing 'a few slices of plain bread,' and by its side some cups full of wine 'instead of chalices.'—'Such are their altars!' ironically exclaims the catholic historian.