same question in six months' time.[6]" His foreboding was truer than
her hopes. In less than six months she was a desolate, imprisoned widow,
helplessly awaiting her own fate from her husband's murderers.

All these resolutions of Vergniaud, all the ribald abuse with which
different members supported them, the unhappy sovereigns were condemned to
hear in the narrow box to which they had been removed. They bore the
insults, the queen with her habitual dignity, the king with his inveterate
apathy; Louis even speaking occasionally with apparent cheerfulness to
some of the deputies. The constant interruptions protracted the
discussions through the entire day. It was half-past three in the morning
before the Assembly adjourned, when the king and his family were removed
to the adjacent Convent of the Feuillants, where four wretched cells had
been hastily furnished with camp-beds, and a few other necessaries of the
coarsest description. So little was any attempt made to disguise the fact
that they were prisoners, that their own domestic servants were not
allowed the next day to attend them till they had received a formal ticket
of admittance from the president. Yet even in this extremity of distress
Marie Antoinette thought of others rather than of herself; and when at
last her faithful attendant, Madame de Campan, obtained access to her, her
first words expressed how greatly her own sorrows were aggravated by the
thought that she had involved in them those loyal friends whose attachment
merited a very different recompense.[7]

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Indignities to which the Royal Family are subjected.--They are removed to
the Temple.--Divisions in the Assembly.--Flight of La Fayette.--Advance of
the Prussians.--Lady Sutherland supplies the Dauphin with Clothes.--Mode
of Life in the Temple.--The Massacres of September.--The Death of the
Princess de Lamballe.--Insults are heaped on the King and Queen.--The
Trial of the King.--His Last Interview with his Family.--His Death.

From the 11th of August the life of Marie Antoinette is almost a blank to
us. We may be even thankful that it is so, and that we are spared the
details, in all their accumulated miseries, of a series of events which
are a disgrace to human nature. For month after month the gentle,
benevolent king, whom no sovereign ever exceeded in love for his people,
or in the exercise of every private virtue; the equally pure-minded,
charitable, and patriotic queen,