All day she was at work in a mood of feverish energy, doing anything and everything which might distract her thoughts from her own defeat and her rival's victory.
By evening all was ready, and she had arranged that her property should be sent after her to Petit Bourg, to which castle she intended to retire.
It wanted half an hour of the time fixed for her departure, when a young cavalier, whose face was strange to her, was ushered into the room.
He came with a message from her brother.
"Monsieur de Vivonne regrets, madame, that the rumour of your departure has got abroad among the court." "What do I care for that, monsieur ?" she retorted, with all her old spirit.
"He says, madame, that the courtiers may assemble at the west gate to see you go; that Madame de Neuilly will be there, and the Duchesse de Chambord, and Mademoiselle de Rohan, and--" The lady shrank with horror at the thought of such an ordeal.

To drive away from the palace, where she had been more than queen, under the scornful eyes and bitter gibes of so many personal enemies! After all the humiliations of the day, that would be the crowning cup of sorrow.
Her nerve was broken.

She could not face it.
"Tell my brother, monsieur, that I should be much obliged if he would make fresh arrangements, by which my departure might be private." "He bade me say that he had done so, madame." "Ah! at what hour then ?" "Now.

As soon as possible." "I am ready.

At the west gate then ?" "No; at the east.