or officer at hand to direct their movements, they might even
now have checked the insurrection.

There might even have been some hope had not Louis himself actually
interfered to check their exertions. Hearing what they had accomplished,
the gallant D'Hervilly made his way to them, and called on them to follow
him to the rescue of the king. They hesitated, unwilling to leave their
wounded comrades to the mercy of their enemies; but their hesitation was
brief, for it was put an end to by the wounded men themselves, who bid
them hasten forward; their duty, they told them, was to save the king; for
themselves, they could but die where they lay.[4] There were still plenty
of gallant spirits to do their duty to the king, if he could but have been
persuaded to take a right view of his duty to himself and to them.

The Swiss gladly obeyed D'Hervilly's summons. Forming in close order, and
as steady as on parade, they marched through the garden, one battalion
moving toward the end opposite to the palace, where there was a
draw-bridge which it was essential to secure; the other following
D'Hervilly to the Assembly hall. Nothing could resist their advance: they
forced their way up the stairs; and in a few moments a young officer, M.
de Salis, at the head of a small detachment, sword in hand, entered the
chamber. Some of the deputies shrieked and fled, while others, more calm,
reminded him that armed men were forbidden to enter the hall, and ordered
him to retire. He refused, and sent his subaltern to the king for orders.
But Louis still held to his strange policy of non-resistance. Even the
terrible scenes of the morning, and the deliberate attack of an armed mob
upon his palace, had failed to eradicate his unwillingness to authorize
his own Guards to fight in his behalf, or to convince him that when his
throne (perhaps even his life and the lives of all his family) was at
stake, it was nobler to struggle for victory, and, if defeated, to die
with arms in his hands, than tamely to sit still and be stripped of his
kingly dignity by brigands and traitors. Could he but have summoned energy
to put himself at the head of his faithful Guards, as we may be sure that
his brave wife urged him to do; could he have even sent them one
encouraging order, one cheering word, there still might have been hope;
for they had already proved that no number of Santerre's ruffians could
stand before them.[5] But Louis could not even now bring himself to