"My dear madame," said Louis, deprecatingly, "war is not a pastime. I regret that it was necessary to burn your father's castle; but you perceive that it was not burned in vain, for your countrymen, since then, have shown themselves amenable to reason."
"Sire, you are shamefully deceived; and I have come to lay at the foot of your throne the plaint of an unhappy people. Ah, you little know what crimes are being committed in your name! General Montclas himself shed tears when Mannheim was sacked and destroyed; and, when the people of Durlach were driven by your soldiery into the very midst of the flames that were consuming their homes, the Duke de la Roche remonstrated with the Marquis de Crequi on the atrocity of the crime. What do you suppose was the answer of the marquis? 'Le roi le veut!'"
"Is this so?" asked the king, turning to Louvois, who was hiding his troubled countenance in the embrasure of a window.
"Sire, I have never heard of it before," replied the minister.
"Well may he say that he never heard of it, if he means that your majesty never gave such an order to him!" cried Elizabeth-Charlotte. "But if he means that he did not order these massacres, he tells an untruth. He is avenging on the people of Germany the laurels which Prince Eugene has earned in the service of the emperor, and which, but for him, would have redounded to the glory of France. Oh, sire! this war is one of personal vengeance on the part of your wicked subject; it is not waged for your honor or advantage. I ask in his presence, did the King of France order the destruction of Worms and Speier? Was it by the order of our gracious sovereign that the very house of God was committed to the flames?"
"Can such a crime have been perpetrated in my name?" cried Louis, with indignation.
"Sire," replied Louvois, "your majesty has said it—'War is no pastime.'"
"He does not deny it," cried the duchess, wiping away her tears, and struggling for composure to go on. "But what is done, is done—Worms and Speier are in ashes, and their murdered inhabitants at rest. But, oh, my liege, my gracious lord, the city of Trier is threatened with the same fate! For three days the people have been crying in vain for mercy.—At your feet, sire, I implore you, have pity, and save them from butchery!"
And the duchess, with hands upraised, and eyes that were streaming with tears, sank on her knees before the king.
Louis rose hastily from his seat.