ssinated, or at the
least detained by the mob as a prisoner and a hostage.

Had she not feared to increase his danger, she would have accompanied him;
but at such a crisis it required more courage and fortitude to separate
herself from him; and the most courageous part was ever that which was
most natural to her. But, though she took no precautions for herself, she
was as thoughtful as ever for her friends; and, knowing how obnoxious the
Duchess de Polignac was to the multitude, she insisted on her departing
with her family. The duchess fled, not unwillingly; and at the same time
others also quit Versailles who had not the same plea of delicacy of sex
to excuse their terrors, and who were bound by every principle of duty to
remain by the king's side the more steadily the greater might be the
danger. The Prince de Conde, who certainly at one time had been a brave
man, and had won an honorable name, worthy of his intrepid ancestor, in
the Seven Years' War; his brother, the Prince de Conti; the Count
d'Artois, who, having always been the advocate of the most violent
measures, was doubly bound to stand forward in defense of his king and
brother, all fled, setting the first example of that base emigration which
eventually left the king defenseless in the midst of his enemies. The
Baron de Breteuil and some of the ministers made similar provision for
their own safety; though it may be said, as some extenuation of their
ignoble flight, that they had no longer any official duties to detain
them, since the king had already dismissed them, and on the evening of the
16th had written to Necker to beg him to return without delay and resume
his office, claiming his instant obedience as a proof of the attachment
and fidelity which he had promised when departing five days before.

On the morning of the 17th, Louis set out for Paris in a single carriage,
escorted by a very slender guard and accompanied by a party of the
deputies. He was fully alive to the danger he was incurring. He knew that
threats had been openly uttered that he should not reach Paris alive;[4]
and he had prepared for his journey as for death, burning his papers,
taking the sacrament, and making arrangements for a regency. Marie
Antoinette was almost hopeless of his safety. She sat with her children in
her private room, shedding no tears, lest the knowledge of her grief
should increase the alarm of her attendants; but her carriages were kept
harnessed, and she had pr