“A postern for her majesty!” cried the gentleman. But Bussy was no longer there to hear, he and his friends had ridden off towards the indicated spot.
“Did your majesty hear?” asked the gentleman.
“Oh! yes, monsieur, I heard; let us go there, if that be the only way to get in.”
The cortege turned to the left, and the postern opened.
“Your majesty is welcome to Angers,” said Bussy.
“Thank you, M. de Bussy,” said the queen, descending from her litter, and advancing towards the little door. Bussy stopped her. “Take care, madame,” said he, “the door is low, and you will hurt yourself.”
“Must I then stoop?” replied she; “it is the first time I ever entered a city so.”
Once through the gate she re-entered her litter to go to the palace, Bussy and his friends escorting her.
“Where is my son?” cried she; “why do I not see M. d’Anjou?”
“Monseigneur is ill, madame, or else your majesty cannot doubt that he would have come himself to do the honors of his city.”