I was speaking to someone to-day who had come but lately from the Prince of Orange, and he said that negotiations[2] for peace had been opened with him through St. Aldegonde, who was a prisoner in the hands of the Royalists. He represented the Prince as strongly inclined for peace, but said that the cities, which had called him in, were no less strongly opposed to it, and would rather suffer the worst extremity than trust themselves to the Spaniards, or send Orange away. The same person told me that Leyden was starving, and must soon surrender.[3] The Prince, he said, was not to blame for it, but the inhabitants, who, having been repeatedly warned to lay in stores in time, had obstinately neglected to do so. He also informed me that the Spanish fleet, if it was really coming, was to sail round Scotland, and that Orange had set up false beacons and lights on the coast to draw it among the shoals and sandbanks. Perhaps the information I have sent your Majesty is not of much importance, still I feel sure that it will at least do no harm, and that with your accustomed graciousness you will not take my sending it amiss. I pray God to preserve your Majesty, and remain, &c. Speyer,[4] August 22, 1574.[5] LETTER II. On September 2 I arrived at Meaux, fourteen[6] miles from Paris. My journey was delayed by want of post-horses, for, as the King had just gone to Lyons, they had almost all been transferred to that road from their proper stations, and so for two days and nights I sailed down the Marne, but, as it winds very much before its confluence with the Seine, near Paris, I had to change my mode of travelling, and return to land. As no horses or carriages were to be had, I sent people to Paris to get some, and also to look for lodgings against our arrival. When the Queen, your Majesty’s daughter, knew of this, she sent two of her own carriages, which brought me and my suite to Paris on the 4th. On that day the Queen[7] wished me to rest, and did not send for me till the next day. I found her in excellent health, but her face was melancholy, and still showed traces of her recent loss. As I was going through the points mentioned in my instructions, she spoke gratefully of your Majesty’s thinking of her and sending to console and visit her in her bereavement. She was not surprised, she added, at the deep regret expressed by your Majesty, for, indeed, her late Consort had always felt the warmest affection for you, and had always been most anxious to meet your wishes. She then made very minute inquiries about your Majesty’s health. But, when I said that she must wait patiently till your Majesty should be able to decide, according to the turn events might take, whether she was to leave or stay, she gently replied, that all she asked was to be allowed to do that which was most useful and pleasing to her father. Our conversation then ended, and I received permission to retire.