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Updated: June 5, 2025
On the 17th of July, with all the pomp and ceremony that the church and army could bestow, the King was crowned and anointed with the holy oil which four of his principal officers had brought to the cathedral from the ancient abbey church of Saint-Remy. There exist few grander fanes in Christendom than the great cathedral of Rheims.
"I seem to know that name," said the king, as if reflecting; "there was a Marquis de la Valliere." "Yes, sire, it is his daughter." "But he died, and his widow married again M. de Saint-Remy, I think, steward of the wager Madame's household." "Your majesty is correctly informed." "More than that, the young lady has lately become one of the princess's maids of honor."
"I offer you a thousand respects, M. de Saint-Remy." "How Madame de la Vall I mean, how delighted Madame de Saint-Remy will be to see you! But come in. His royal highness is at breakfast must he be interrupted? Is the matter serious?" "Yes, and no, Monsieur de Saint-Remy. A moment's delay, however, would be disagreeable to his royal highness."
It was Madame de Saint-Remy who uttered the cry and the angry words. The unlucky Malicorne almost crushed her between the wall and the door she was coming in at. "It is again that good-for-nothing!" cried the old lady. "Always here!" "Ah, madame!" replied Malicorne, in a respectful tone; "it is eight long days since I was here." Behind Madame de Saint-Remy stood Mademoiselle de la Valliere.
"And am I not here I, who am worth all the posts in the kingdom? Quick, I say, to horse! so that if Madame de Saint-Remy should return for the purpose of preaching me a lesson on morality, she may not find you here." "She would tell my father, would she not?" murmured Raoul. "And you would be scolded. Ah, vicomte, it is very plain you come from court; you are as timid as the king.
Saint-Remy was the great, great, great, great-grandfather of Jeanne de Valois, the flower of minxes. Her father, a ruined man, dwelt in a corner of the family château, a predacious, poaching, athletic, broken scion of royalty, who drank and brawled with the peasants, and married his mistress, a servant-girl.
I know something about it. My poor cousin De Saint-Remy, who was with the Comte de Chambord, lost the bread of his old age and his daughter's dowry. There were suicides and deeds of violence, notably that of a certain Schroeder, who went mad on account of that crash, and who killed himself, after murdering his wife and his two children. And the Baron came out of it unsullied.
I am doing no harm, I suppose?" "And that great good-for-nothing, mademoiselle," resumed Madame de Saint-Remy, pointing to Malicorne, "is he here to do any good, I ask you?" "He is neither here for good nor harm, madame; he comes to see me, that is all." "It is all very well! all very well!" said the old lady. "Her royal highness shall be informed of it, and she will judge."
But the king, who appeared to wish to be informed, was disposed to give another look at this dismal spot. Gaston perceived his nephew's desire. "Look, sire," said he, taking a flambeau from the hands of M. de Saint-Remy, "this is where he fell. There was a bed there, the curtains of which he tore with catching at them." "Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot?" asked Louis.
Behind Madame de Saint-Remy stood Mademoiselle de la Valliere. She heard the explosion of maternal anger, and as she divined the cause of it, she entered the chamber trembling, and perceived the unlucky Malicorne, whose woeful countenance might have softened or set laughing whoever observed it coolly.
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