When the news of the fall of the Bastille reached Versailles, the king, still failing to realize the gravity of the situation, exclaimed, “Then it is a revolt!” “Sire,” said the Duke de Liancourt, “it is a Revolution!”

The king found himself deserted.  His terrified nobles almost in a body were fleeing from the kingdom.  Bewildered, not knowing what to do, or what not to do, and desiring to assure the people that he was their friend, he appeared before the National Assembly and made the last sacrifice—­accepted the Tricolor; adopted the livery of the revolutionary party!  The act was received with immense enthusiasm, and the outlook became more reassuring.

Then the garrison at the palace was reenforced by a regiment from the country, and a dinner was given to welcome the new officers.  The king and queen were urged to enter the room for a few moments, simply as an act of courtesy.  Marie Antoinette most reluctantly consented to pass through the banqueting-hall.  The officers, when they saw the beautiful daughter of Maria Theresa, sprang to their feet, and, flushed with wine, and in a transport of enthusiasm, committed a fatal act.  Throwing their tricolors under the table, they drank to the toast, “The king forever!”

When this was reported in Paris the storm burst anew.  A thousand terrible women, led by one still more terrible than the rest, started for Versailles.  This crowd of base and degraded beings, re-enforced on the way by all that is worst, arrived at the palace, and the howling mob encamped outside in the rain all night.  Entrance at last was found by someone, and they were inside and at the queen’s door; she barely escaping by a hidden passageway leading to the king’s room.

“The king to Paris!” was the cry; and in the morning the wretched Louis appeared upon the balcony and indicated his willingness to go to Paris as they desired.  And then the queen, hoping to touch their hearts, also appeared upon the balcony, holding in her arms the dauphin, with the tricolor on his breast.  And with this horrible escort they did go back to Paris, leaving Versailles forever, and were virtually prisoners at the Tuileries.

The position of Lafayette at this time is a singular one:  an agent of the National Assembly, protecting the king from the Jacobins, and saying to Robespierre and Marat, “If you kill the king to-day, I will place the dauphin on the throne to-morrow.”

But the currents of a cataract nearing the fall are difficult to guide.  Three parties were forming in the National Assembly:  the Girondists, the party of genius and eloquence and of moderation; the Jacobins, the party of the extremists and radicals; and a third party, undecided, waiting to see what was safest and best.