“More reason, then, he should protect a king pursued by parliament.” The queen shook her head despairingly. “If I judge for myself, my lord,” she said, “the cardinal will do nothing, and will even, perhaps, act against us. The presence of my daughter and myself in France is already irksome to him; much more so would be that of the king. My lord,” added Henrietta, with a melancholy smile, “it is sad and almost shameful to be obliged to say that we have passed the winter in the Louvre without money, without linen, almost without bread, and often not rising from bed because we wanted fire.” “Horrible!” cried De Winter; “the daughter of Henry IV., and the wife of King Charles! Wherefore did you not apply, then, madame, to the first person you saw from us?” “Such is the hospitality shown to a queen by the minister from whom a king demands it.” “But I heard that a marriage between the Prince of Wales and Mademoiselle d’Orléans was spoken of,” said De Winter. “Yes, for an instant I hoped it was so. The young people felt a mutual esteem; but the queen, who at first sanctioned their affection, changed her mind, and Monsieur, the Duc d’Orléans, who had encouraged the familiarity between them, has forbidden his daughter to think any more about the union. Oh, my lord!” continued the queen, without restraining her tears, “it is better to fight as the king has done, and to die, as perhaps he will, than live in beggary like me.” “Courage, madame! courage! Do not despair! The interests of the French crown, endangered at this moment, are to discountenance rebellion in a neighboring nation. Mazarin, as a statesman, will understand the politic necessity.” “Are you sure,” said the queen doubtfully, “that you have not been forestalled?” “By whom?” “By the Joices, the Prinns, the Cromwells?” “By a tailor, a coachmaker, a brewer! Ah! I hope, madame, that the cardinal will not enter into negotiations with such men!” “Ah! what is he himself?” asked Madame Henrietta. “But for the honor of the king—of the queen.” “Well, let us hope he will do something for the sake of their honor,” said the queen. “A true friend’s eloquence is so powerful, my lord, that you have reassured me. Give me your hand and let us go to the minister; and yet,” she added, “suppose he should refuse and that the king loses the battle?” “His majesty will then take refuge in Holland, where I hear his highness the Prince of Wales now is.” “And can his majesty count upon many such subjects as yourself for his flight?” “Alas! no, madame,” answered De Winter; “but the case is provided for and I am come to France to seek allies.” “Allies!” said the queen, shaking her head. “Madame,” replied De Winter, “provided I can find some of my good old friends of former times I will answer for anything.” “Come then, my lord,” said the queen, with the painful doubt that is felt by those who have suffered much; “come, and may Heaven hear you.” Chapter XXXVII. Cromwell’s Letter.