Michael, the count was bound to come to Paris to present his claims before the tribunal of the order. The count, however, as persistently refused to go to Paris "to be mocked by the King," and defiantly proposed that the latter should be summoned to personally appear before the Diet. A less extravagant demand, a less obstinate refusal, would have surely obtained a better recognition from the monarch who "never broke his word," but failing to persuade either the king or his claimant, the Confederates were forced to abandon their intervention and Count Michael got nothing at all. Ill and despairing, he now abandoned the administration of his hopelessly involved estates to his brother Francois, who with the aid of an appointed council vainly essayed to bring order out of confusion. In an open assembly the people were asked to guarantee a new loan on the promise of the cession of all the Gruyere revenues at a fixed date. Irritated but still faithful to their ruler they consented, but the delay thus obtained only postponed the inevitable disaster. Berne and Fribourg now announced their intention of assuming the debts of the entirely mortgaged domain and dividing it between them. The unhappy people of Gruyere prepared to witness the dispossession of their ruler and the dismemberment of their beloved country when Count Michel played his last card, marrying through the good offices of his uncle Claude de Vergy, (who had now succeeded his father as marechal of Burgundy) the widow of the Baron d'Alegre, Madeleine de Miolans, a daughter of a once illustrious Savoyard family. To her devotion and that of his de Vergy's relatives, who spared nothing but the necessary funds to avert his impending ruin, Michel owed a short reprieve from the execution of his creditors. Four months' delay was granted his wife in which to raise the interest due on the loans; but although journeying to Paris and soliciting every influence to procure the required sum, the countess of Gruyere failed in her efforts. The poor lady now saw the end of her dream of rehabilitating the fallen fortunes of the man she had so unwisely married. How potent was the charm of the bankrupt hero who could still inspire her unlimited devotion was still better proved by the affection of his half brother Francois. Modest, dignified and charitable, as his brilliant senior was wasteful and rash, Francois' loyalty was unaltered by any disgrace of misfortune. But in the very climax of his ills Count Michel lost this invaluable brother and friend. In a letter to his implacable executors he thus poured out his grief: