that he was about to leave a country where from his infancy upwards he
had experienced nothing but deceit and disaster.

Those who know a mother's heart will easily guess that Elizabeth of
Poland was no sooner aware of the danger that threatened her son than
she travelled to Naples, arriving there before her coming was suspected.
Rumour spread abroad that the Queen of Hungary had come to take her son
away with her, and the unexpected event gave rise to strange comments:
the fever of excitement now blazed up in another direction. The
Empress of Constantinople, the Catanese, her two daughters, and all the
courtiers, whose calculations were upset by Andre's departure, hurried
to honour the arrival of the Queen of Hungary by offering a very cordial
and respectful reception, with a view to showing her that, in the midst
of a court so attentive and devoted, any isolation or bitterness of
feeling on the young prince's part must spring from his pride, from
an unwarrantable mistrust, and his naturally savage and untrained
character. Joan received her husband's mother with so much proper
dignity in her behaviour that, in spite of preconceived notions,
Elizabeth could not help admiring the noble seriousness and earnest
feeling she saw in her daughter-in-law. To make the visit more pleasant
to an honoured guest, fetes and tournaments were given, the barons
vying with one another in display of wealth and luxury. The Empress of
Constantinople, the Catanese, Charles of Duras and his young wife, all
paid the utmost attention to the mother of the prince. Marie, who by
reason of her extreme youth and gentleness of character had no share in
any intrigues, was guided quite as much by her natural feeling as by her
husband's orders when she offered to the Queen of Hungary those marks
of regard and affection that she might have felt for her own mother. In
spite, however, of these protestations of respect and love, Elizabeth of
Poland trembled for her son, and, obeying a maternal instinct, chose to