'You need not be anxious,' said Percenez; 'I have already resolved to take Gabrielle to Versailles.' 'But I have told the men--men, indeed! they were angels--that they were to look for the girl on her way there.' 'We can go in a hackney coach. They will not suspect her of being in that. To Versailles we must go, and Gabrielle must see the queen at once, and then return to Bernay.' 'The king and queen are at Marly,' said Madeleine; 'I have ascertained that to-day. To-morrow is my day for taking bouquets to the royal family; I shall go to Marly, and Gabrielle can accompany me.' 'To Marly!' exclaimed Percenez; 'that is better still.' 'Well,' exclaimed madame, suddenly turning upon Klaus, 'has S. Généviève answered your prayers? They were impassioned enough, especially for a German-Swiss.' CHAPTER XXVI. The palace of Marly is no more. It was built by Mansard for Louis XIV, and was architecturally a little pretentious, and very ugly. Louis, finding the great Versailles he had created too splendid a world, built Trianon as a refuge from it; but the world flowed towards Trianon, and then he fled to Marly; not that he hated the world and its pomp, but that every man, even a Grand Monarque, loves to snatch a moment or two of tranquillity, and shake off his starched ruffles and stiff court-dress, that he may stretch his limbs at ease, forget politics, even forget pleasure, and do nothing and think of nothing. Marly was to be the sans souci of French royalty; but care was not to be evaded, it pursued the great Monarch there, and there also it fastened on the little king. St. Simon relates that in the construction of Marly, whole forests of full-grown trees were brought from Compiègne, and that as they died, they were replaced by others; extensive tracts of copse were converted into lakes and ponds, and then, at the caprice of the king, were reconverted into shady groves, and all to adorn a small villa in a contracted valley, in which Louis might pass a week or fortnight in the course of the year. To Marly, Louis XVI had been hurried by the queen, that, in its comparative quiet and retirement, she might be able to mould him to her will, or rather to the will of that party whose interests she had at heart. Much cruel slander has been cast upon the memory of the unfortunate queen; her moral character has been defamed, her virtues called in question. This has been as unjust as it is untrue. Marie Antoinette was a good wife and a good mother. Her fidelity to her husband and her affection for her children should never have been doubted. The hatred which she inspired caused every evil to be believed of her, and those, whose interest it was to stir up disaffection, were not slack in spreading calumnious reports, which everyone retailed and some believed. Louis, amiable, simple and weak, mistrusting his own opinion, was a puppet in her hands. He loved his wife passionately, and trusted her implicitly.