every mistake. She thought of that terrible message sent only two hours ago at the bidding of the Assembly that their guards were not to defend themselves, but to disarm.[1] Only this morning there were 600 Swiss and 200 gentlemen, and even companies of the national guard whom they could trust, but whispered reports had reached even the loge that their noble supporters had died unsoldierly and cold-*blooded deaths. There was no longer any nucleus in the country of loyalty to the consecrated ruler.
There was nothing now to prevent the passing of the formal decree by which she heard the King finally deprived of the crown and of every vestige of authority. Though Louis XVI. appeared unheeding and expressionless, could she bear this indignity, this wrong to her son? Could they not escape from this wicked durance? But she had consented to this surrender to their enemies in the hope of saving her son's life. It had been the only chance. As long as they were in some shelter from the howling savages outside who were screaming for their blood, the life
- ↑ Mémoires de Madame de Tourzel, p. 220.
