gle-minded in desiring to prevent
the uncertain conflict. The queen was eager to fight, and spoke brave
words to every one. Afterwards, when she heard the cannonade from her
refuge in the reporter's box, she said to d'Hervilly: "Well, do you
think now that we were wrong to remain in Paris?" He answered, "God
grant, madam, that you may not repent of it!" Roederer had detected
what was passing in her mind. Defeat would be terrible, for nothing
could save the royal family. But victory would also be a perilous
thing for the revolution, for it would restore the monarchy in its
power, and the old nobles collected in the palace would gain too much
by it. They were indeed but a residue: 7000 had been expected to
appear at the supreme moment; there were scarcely 120. Charette, the
future hero of Vendee, was among them, unconscious yet of his
extraordinary gifts for war.

Roederer, vigorously backed by his colleagues of the department,
informed the king of what he had seen and heard, assured him that the
Tuileries could not be defended with the forces present, and that
there was no safety except in the Assembly, the only authority that
was regarded. It was but two days since the deputies, by an immense
majority, had approved the act of Lafayette. He thought they might be
trusted to protect the king. As there was nothing left to fight for,
he affirmed that those who remained behind would be in no danger. He
would not allow the garrison to retire, and he left the Swiss, without
orders, to their fate. Marie Antoinette resisted vehemently, and Lewis
was not easy to convince. At last he said that there was nothing to be
done, and gave orders to set out. But the queen in a fury turned upon
him, and exclaimed: "Now I know you for what you are!" Lewis told his
valet to wait his return; but as they crossed the garden, where the
men were sweeping the gravel, he remarked: "The leaves are falling
early this year." Roederer heard, and understood.

A newspaper had said that the throne would not last to the fall of the
leaf; and it was by those trivial but significant words that the
fallen monarch acknowledged the pathetic solemnity of the moment, and
indicated that the footsteps which took him away from his palace would
never be retraced. A deputation met him at the door of the Assembly,
and he entered, saying that he came there to avert a great crime. The
Feuillants were absent. The Girondins predominated, and the president,
Vergniaud, rece