ty the keys of your good city of Paris. They are the same which were
presented to Henri IV. He had conquered his people: to-day the people have
conquered their king."
Louis proceeded onward to the Hotel de Ville, in a strange procession,
headed by a numerous band of fish-women, always prominent, and recruited
at every step by a crowd of rough peasant-looking men, armed with
bludgeons, scythes, and every variety of rustic weapons, evidently on the
watch for some opportunity to create a tumult, and seeking to provoke one
by raising from time to time vociferous shouts of "Vive la nation!" and
uttering ferocious threats against any one who might chance to exclaim,
"Vive le roi!" But they were disconcerted by the perfect calmness of the
king, on whom danger to himself seemed the only thing incapable of making
an impression. On Bailly's insolent speech he had made no comment,
remarking, in a whisper to his principal attendant, that he had better
appear not to have heard it. And now at the Hotel de Ville his demeanor
was as unruffled as if every thing that had happened had been in perfect
accordance with his wishes. He made a short speech, in which he confirmed
all the concessions and promises which he had previously made. He even
placed in his hat a tricolor cockade, which the mayor had the effrontery
to present to him, though it was the emblem of the revolt of his subjects
and of the defeat of his troops. And at last such an effect had his
fearless dignity on even the fiercest of his enemies, that when he
afterward came out on the balcony to show himself to the crowd beneath,
the whole mass raised the shout of "Vive le roi!" with as much enthusiasm
as had ever greeted the most feared or the most beloved of his
predecessors.
His return to the barrier resembled a triumphal procession. Yet, happy as
it seemed that outrage had thus been averted and unanimity restored, the
result of the day can not, perhaps, be deemed entirely fortunate, since it
probably contributed to fix more deeply in the king's mind the belief that
concession to clamor was the course most likely to be successful. Nor did
the queen, though for the moment her despondency was changed to thankful
exultation, at all conceal from herself that the perils which had been
escaped were certain to recur; and that vigilance and firmness would
surely again be called for to repel them--qualities which she could find
in herself, but which she might well doubt her ability
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