the best princess in the world, received him cordially, and taking his
hand, led him about the church for an hour or two. She demanded news
regarding the wars of Piedmont and Italy, and many other particulars, to
which my brother replied so well that she was greatly pleased with him.
He was a very handsome young man of twenty-four years. After talking
gravely and engaging him in earnest conversation, walking up and down
the church, she directed her steps toward the tomb of Mademoiselle de La
Roche, who had been dead for three months. She stopped here, and again
took his hand, saying, "My cousin" (thus addressing him because a
daughter of D'Albret was married into our family of Bourdeille; but of
this I do not boast, for it has not helped me particularly), "do you not
feel something move below your feet?"

"No, Madame," he replied.

"But reflect again, my cousin," she insisted.

My brother answered, "Madame, I feel nothing move. I stand upon a solid
stone."

"Then I will explain," said the Queen, "without keeping you longer in
suspense, that you stand upon the tomb and over the body of your poor
dearly-loved Mademoiselle de La Roche, who is interred here; and that
our friends may have sentiment for us at our death, render a pious
homage here. You cannot doubt that the gentle creature, dying so
recently, must have been affected when you approached. In remembrance I
beg you to say a paternoster and an Ave Maria and a de profundis, and
sprinkle holy water. Thus you will win the name of a very faithful lover
and a good Christian."