In the month of January the Comte d'Auvergne, who had recently been liberated from the Bastille, was despatched at the head of fourteen thousand men against the insurgent Princes; and his departure was made a pretext for depriving the young King of the gentlemen of his household and of his bodyguard, an insult which he deeply although silently resented. He had been attacked in the November of the preceding year by an indisposition which for a time had threatened the most serious consequences, and from whose latent effects he had not yet recovered. As time wore on, moreover, he was becoming more and more weary of the insignificance to which he was reduced by the delegated authority of his mother; and had easily suffered himself to be persuaded by De Luynes that her repeated offers to resign it had merely been designed to make him feel the necessity of her assistance. As we have already shown, Louis XIII derived little pleasure from the society of his young and lovely wife; he made no friends; and thus he was flung entirely into the power of his wily favourite, who, aware that the King could hate, although he could not love, was unremitting in his endeavours to excite him against Marie de Medicis and her favourite. The infatuated Concini seconded his efforts but too well; for, unable to bear his fortunes meekly, he paraded his riches and his power with an insolence which tended to justify the aversion of his enemies. On one occasion, shortly after the dismemberment of his little Court, the monarch of France having refused to join a hunting-party organized by the Queen-mother, found himself entirely deserted save by De Luynes and a single valet; and overcome by mortification and melancholy, he leant his head upon his hand and wept bitterly. For some time not a sound was heard in the Louvre save the soughing of the wind through the tall trees of the palace-garden, and the measured tread of the sentinels, when suddenly a tumult arose in the great court; the trampling of horses, the voices of men, and the clashing of weapons were blent together; and dashing away his tears, Louis desired his favourite to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. "It is the Maréchal d'Ancre, Sire, who has just alighted," said De Luynes as he approached the window. In a few minutes the Italian was announced, and entered the royal apartment followed by a train of forty gentlemen all magnificently attired. At this spectacle Louis started from his seat; and with a bitter smile inquired of the arrogant Marquis his motive for thus parading before his sovereign a state which could only be intended as a satire upon his own privations.