; and a long
correspondence was carried on between the general at Metz, and Count
Fersen at Paris, who acted for Lewis XVI. and controlled the whole. At
Christmas, Bouille sent his eldest son to Paris to arrange details
with him.

During the first months of 1791, which were the last of his life, the
ascendancy of Mirabeau rose so rapidly that the king wavered between
him and Breteuil. In February, La Marck appeared at Metz, to lay
Mirabeau's bolder plan before the soldier on whose sword its execution
was to depend. Bouille at once preferred it to Breteuil's and was
ready to carry it out. But Fersen was so confident in pledging himself
to contrive the departure from Paris at night and in secret, he was so
resolute and cool, that he dispelled all doubts, and early in March he
announced that the king had finally decided for Montmedy. His
hesitation was over, and Mirabeau was rejected. Lewis could not have
taken his advice without surrendering his own main object, the
restoration of the Gallican Church. It was the essence of Mirabeau's
policy to sacrifice the priesthood. His last counsels were given on
February 23, five weeks before he died. He advised that the king, when
driving out, should be forced by the people to go home; or better
still, that a mob should be gathered in the court of the Tuileries to
prevent him from going out. He hoped that such an outrage would cause
the Assembly to secure greater liberty of movement, which would serve
his purpose at the proper time.

The opportunity was found on April 18, when it became known that the
royal family were moving to St. Cloud. Easter was at hand; and at
Easter, the king of France used to receive communion in public. But
Lewis could not receive communion. He was responsible for the Civil
Constitution which he had sanctioned, and for the schism that was
beginning. With that on his conscience he was required to abstain, as
people would otherwise infer that neither he nor the priest who
absolved him saw anything to regret in the rising storm. Therefore to
avoid scandal it was well to be out of the way at the time. The royal
family were stopped at their very door, as Mirabeau had desired. For
more than an hour they sat in the carriage, hooted and insulted by the
mob, Lafayette vainly striving to clear the way. As they returned to
the palace, the queen indiscreetly said to those about them: "You must
admit now, gentlemen, that we are not free." The case for flight was
stre