Temple, a great noise was heard upon the stair-case.
"They have come for me," said the king; and, rising with perfect
calmness and without a tremor, he opened the door. It was a false
summons. Again and again, under various pretexts, the door was opened,
until nine o'clock, when a tumultuous noise upon the stair-case
announced the approach of a body of armed men. Twelve municipal officers
and twelve soldiers entered the apartment. The soldiers formed in two
lines. The king, with a serene air, placed himself between the double
lines, and, looking to one of the municipal officers, said, presenting
to him a roll of paper, which was his last will and testament, "I beg of
you to transmit this paper to the queen." The municipal brutally
replied, "That is no affair of mine. I am here to conduct you to the
scaffold." "True," the king replied, and gave the paper to another, who
received it. The king then, taking his hat and declining his coat,
notwithstanding the severity of the cold, said, with a dignified gesture
and a tone of command, "Let us go." The king led the way, followed
rather than conducted by his escort. Descending the stairs, he met the
turnkey, who had been disrespectful to him the night before, and whom
the king had reproached for his insolence. Louis immediately approached
the unfeeling jailer, and said to him, "Mathey, I was somewhat warm with
you yesterday; forgive me, for the sake of this hour." The imbruted
monster turned upon his heel without any reply.

As he crossed the court-yard of the Temple, he anxiously gazed upon the
windows of the apartment where the queen, his sister, and his children
were imprisoned. The windows were so guarded by plank shutters that no
glances from the loved ones within could meet his eye. As the heart of
the king dwelt upon the scenes of anguish which he knew must be passing
there, it seemed for a moment that his fortitude would fail him. But,
with a violent effort, he recovered his composure and passed on. At the
entrance of the Temple a carriage awaited the king. Two soldiers entered
the carriage, and took seats by his side. The king's confessor also rode
in the carriage. It was the 21st of January, 1793, a gloomy winter's
day. Dark clouds lowered in the sky. Fog and smoke darkened the city.
The atmosphere was raw, and cold in the extreme. Nature seemed in
harmony with man's deed of cruelty and crime. The shops were all
closed, the markets were empty. No citizens were allowed