voked by the overriding
logic of Sieyes disappeared. Moderate and Revolutionist felt the same
resentment, and had the same sense of being opposed by a power that
was insane. There were some, and Sieyes among them, who proposed that
they should adjourn to Paris. But a home was found in the empty Tennis
Court hard by. There, with a view to baffle dangerous designs, and
also to retrieve his own waning influence, Mounier assumed the lead.
He moved that they should bind themselves by oath never to separate
until they had given a Constitution to France; and all the deputies
immediately swore it, save one, who added "Dissentient" to his name,
and who was hustled out by a backdoor, to save him from the fury of
his colleagues. This dramatic action added little to that which had
been done three days earlier. The deputies understood that a
Constituent Assembly must be single, that the legislative power had,
for the purpose, been transferred to them, and could not be restrained
or recalled. Their authority was not to be limited by an upper house,
for both upper houses were absorbed; nor by the king, for they
regarded neither his sanction nor his veto; nor by the nation itself,
for they refused, by their oath, to be dissolved.

The real event of the Tennis Court was to unite all parties against
the crown, and to make them adopt the new policy of radical and
indefinite change, outdoing what Sieyes himself had done. The
mismanagement of the court drove its friends into the van of the
movement. The last Royalist defender of safe measures had vanished
through the backdoor.

Malouet had tendered a clause saving the royal power; but it was
decided not to put it, lest it should be refused. Mirabeau, in whose
eyes the decree of the 17th portended civil war, now voted,
reluctantly, with the rest.

Whilst the Assembly held its improvised and informal meeting at
Versailles, the king sat in council at Marly on Necker's magnanimous
proposal. After a struggle, and with some damaging concessions, the
minister carried his main points. They were gathering their papers,
and making ready to disperse, when a private message was brought to
the king. He went out, desiring them to wait his return. Montmorin
turned to Necker and said, "It is the queen, and all is over." The
king came back, and adjourned the council to Monday at Versailles. And
it was in this way that the report of what had happened that morning
told upon the Government, and the enthusi