xile, he said to his son, "Do you
still praise my good fortune?" That evening he rode across the
frontier with a group of officers, and his men fired on him as he
passed. He issued an angry declaration, and composed a defence of his
conduct, saying that nobody had remained at his post except himself.
But he knew that king and constitution were lost because he was not on
the spot, and had posted inexperienced men where his own presence was
needed. He could not recover his balance, and became as unwise and
violent as the rest. The _emigres_ did not trust him, and assigned him
no active part in the invasion of the following year. His fame stood
high among the English who had fought him in the West Indies, and Pitt
offered him the command in San Domingo, which the Duke of Portland
obliged him to relinquish.

Lewis XVI. was brought back to Paris by an insolent and ferocious
crowd, and looked back with gratitude to the equivocal civilities of
Sauce. The journey occupied four days, during which the queen's hair
turned grey. Three deputies, sent by the Assembly, met the dolorous
procession half way, and took charge of the royal family. The king at
once assured them that he had intended to remain at Montmedy, and
there to revise the Constitution. "With those words," said Barnave,
"we shall save the monarchy." Latour Maubourg refused his turn in the
royal carriage, on the plea that his legs were too long for comfort,
and advised the king to employ the time in domesticating his
companions. The advice partly succeeded, for Barnave was made a
friend. Nothing could be made of Petion, who states in his narrative
that the princess fell in love with him. General Dumas assumed
command, and, by posting cavalry on one of the bridges, managed to
bring the horses to a trot, and left the crowd behind.

When they came to the forest of Bondy, the Hounslow Heath of France, a
band of ruffians from the capital made a determined attack, and were
with difficulty beaten off. At last, Lefebvre, the future Marshal Duke
of Dantzick, met them with a company of grenadiers. As there was
danger in the narrow streets of Paris, Lafayette took them round
through the Champs Elysees. Word had been passed that not a sign of
hatred or of honour should be given, and a horseman rode in front,
commanding silence. The order was sullenly obeyed. The day before this
funereal scene the Prussian envoy wrote home that the king might be
spared, from motives of policy, but