I looked at the carriage with great interest, for there it still remains, just as it was rolled back to its old station under the _remise_. Through all the changes of the country from which it had rumbled over the frontier, laden with its royal freight, has it stood silently falling to decay—the gay emblazoned panels blistering and fading in the damp, and the splendid hangings all moth-eaten and falling to tatters—a curious memento, and one which even in our own day may find its way to some museum. It certainly would not disgrace any collection of “_pièces curieuses_,” however rare and valuable. C. told me that, “not being at Valençay at the period of the arrival of the Spanish princes, he could not bear witness to the effect which the sudden seizure of their persons, the breach of faith of Napoleon, and the strict captivity in which they were held, had produced in the country. He had, however, seen much of them during the time of their stay, and gave me some curious anecdotes concerning them. Ferdinand, and his brother Don Carlos, were both young, almost mere lads, at the time, and, at first, as it may well be supposed, they were overcome by grief and rage at being thus torn from their country by fraud and violence; but, after some little while, they grew reconciled to their fate, and even, with true youthful volatility, preferred it to the awful state and grandeur of the Spanish court, which, in these days, still maintains the same absurd etiquette that had for ages rendered it the terror of foreign ambassadors, and gained for it the nickname of the “grave of the gay.” “It is an error to suppose that the smiles and fascinations of the Princess de Benevent herself had any share in this sudden change of sentiment, for she was already past the age to captivate the fancy of her youthful guests; but there were some among her fair maids of honour for whom the young princes would gladly have sworn never to return to Spain, not even to rule over it in splendour. “They were a curious collection assembled at Valençay. First and foremost came the two princes, Don Ferdinand, Prince of the Asturias, and Don Carlos, his younger brother. Of these, more anon. Then came old Don Antonio, brother to the reigning King of Spain, and uncle of the two boys, guardian likewise of their welfare and their morals. The latter was a true Spaniard of the _vieille roche_; such a character as may be found in the old Spanish novels; ignorant and haughty as the hidalgo of Columbus’s day, yet _bonhomme_ withal, credulous and unsuspicious as a child.