only to fruitless slaughter that must further shake the already sorely
shaken prestige of Royalty.

And so the Court, growing momentarily wise again under the spur of fear,
preferred to temporize. Necker should be brought back yet once again,
the three orders should sit united as the National Assembly demanded. It
was the completest surrender of force to force, the only argument. The
King went alone to inform the National Assembly of that eleventh-hour
resolve, to the great comfort of its members, who viewed with pain and
alarm the dreadful state of things in Paris. "No force but the force of
reason and argument" was their watchword, and it was so to continue for
two years yet, with a patience and fortitude in the face of ceaseless
provocation to which insufficient justice has been done.

As the King was leaving the Assembly, a woman, embracing his knees, gave
tongue to what might well be the question of all France:

"Ah, sire, are you really sincere? Are you sure they will not make you
change your mind?"

Yet no such question was asked when a couple of days later the King,
alone and unguarded save by the representatives of the Nation, came to
Paris to complete the peacemaking, the surrender of Privilege. The Court
was filled with terror by the adventure. Were they not the "enemy,"
these mutinous Parisians? And should a King go thus among his enemies?
If he shared some of that fear, as the gloom of him might lead us to
suppose, he must have found it idle. What if two hundred thousand men
under arms--men without uniforms and with the most extraordinary motley
of weapons ever seen--awaited him? They awaited him as a guard of honour.

Mayor Bailly at the barrier presented him with the keys of the city.
"These are the same keys that were presented to Henri IV. He had
reconquered his people. Now the people have reconquered their King."

At the Hotel de Ville Mayor Bailly offered him the new cockade, the
tricoloured symbol of constitutional France, and when he had given his
royal confirmation to the formation of the Garde Bourgeoise and to the
appointments of Bailly and Lafayette, he departed again for Versailles
amid the shouts of "Vive le Roi!" from his loyal people.

And now you see Privilege--before the cannon's mouth, as it
were--submitting at last, where had they submitted sooner they might have
saved oceans of blood--chiefly their own. They come, nobles and clergy,
to join the National Assembly, to labour with