“‘Where are they gone?’ I asked.

“‘To Versailles,’ was his shuddering answer.

“Nothing could now detain me.  After one or two helpless efforts to rise from my bed, and an hour or two of almost despair, I succeeded in getting on my feet, and procuring a horse.  Versailles was now my only object.  I knew all the importance of arriving at the palace at the earliest moment; I knew the unprotected state of the king, and knew that it was my place to be near his person in all chances.  I was on the point of sallying forth in my uniform, when the precaution of my friend forced me back; telling me, truly enough, that, in the ferment of the public mind, it would be impossible for me to reach Versailles as a garde du corps, and that my being killed or taken, would effectually prevent me from bearing any information of the state of the capital.  This decided me; and, disguised as a courier, I set out by a cross-road in hope to arrive before the multitude.

“But I had not gone above a league when I fell in with a scattered platoon of the mob, who were rambling along as if on a party of pleasure; tossing their pikes and clashing their sabres to all kinds of revolutionary songs.  I was instantly seized, as a ’courier of the Aristocrats.’  Their sagacity, once at work, found out a hundred names for me:—­I was a ‘spy of Pitt,’ an ‘agent of the Austrians,’ a ‘disguised priest,’ and an ‘emigrant noble;’ my protestations were in vain, and they held a court-martial, on me and my horse, on the road; and ordered me to deliver up my despatches, on pain of being piked on the spot.  But I could give up none; for the best of all possible reasons.  Every fold of my drapery was searched, and then I was to be piked for not having despatches; it being clear that I was more than a courier, and that my message was too important to be trusted to pen and ink.  I was now in real peril; for the party had continued to sing and drink until they had nearly made themselves frantic; and as Versailles was still a dozen miles off, and they were unlikely to annihilate the garrison before nightfall, they prepared to render their share of service to their country by annihilating me.  In this real dilemma, my good genius interposed, in the shape of an enormous poissarde; who, rushing through the crowd, which she smote with much the same effect as an elephant would with his trunk, threw her huge arms round me, called me her cher Jacques, poured out a volley of professional eloquence on the shrinking heroes, and proclaimed me her son returning from the army!  All now was sentiment.  The poissarde was probably in earnest, for her faculties were in nearly the same condition with those of her fellow patriots.  I was honoured with a general embrace, and shared the privilege of the travelling bottle.  As the night was now rapidly falling, an orator proposed that the overthrow of the monarchy should be deferred till the next day.  A Federe uniform was provided for me; I was hailed as a brother; we pitched a tent, lighted fires, cooked a supper, and bivouacked for the night.  This was, I acknowledge, the first night of my seeing actual service since the commencement of my soldiership.