The conduct of this prince was but that of one who looks to a contingent reversion:  either that he would not receive the crown except by a fatality of events, and without thrusting forth his hand to fortune, or that he had more indifference than ambition for supreme power, or that he would not place his royalty as a check upon the way of liberty; that he sincerely desired a republic, and that the title of first citizen of a free nation appeared to him greater than that of king.

VII.

However, a short time after the days of the 5th and 6th October, La Fayette desired to break off the intimacy between the Duc d’Orleans and Mirabeau.  He resolved at all risks to compel the prince to remove from the scene, and by an exercise of moral restraint or the fear of a state prosecution, to absent himself and go to London.  He made the king and queen enter into his plans, by alarming them as to the prince’s intrigues, and designating him as a competitor for the throne.  La Fayette said one day to the queen, that this prince was the only man upon whom the suspicion of so lofty an ambition could fall.  “Sir,” replied the queen, with a look of incredulity, “is it necessary then to be a prince in order to pretend to the throne?” “At least, madam,” replied the general, “I only know the Duc d’Orleans who aspires to it.”  La Fayette presumed too much on the prince’s ambition.

VIII.

Mirabeau, discouraged at the hesitations and scruples of the Duc d’Orleans, and finding him above or below crime, cast him off like a despised accomplice of ambition, and tried to ally himself with La Fayette, who, possessed of the armed force, and who saw in Mirabeau the whole of the moral force, smiled at the idea of a duumvirate, which could assume to themselves empire.  There were secret interviews at Paris and at Passy between these two rivals.  La Fayette rejecting every idea of an usurpation profitable to the prince, declared to Mirabeau that he must renounce every conceived plot against the queen if he would come to an understanding with him.  “Well, general,” replied Mirabeau, “since you will have it so, let her live!  A humbled queen may be fit for something, but a queen with her throat cut is only good as the subject of a bad tragedy!” This atrocious remark, which treated the bloodshed of a woman as a jest, was subsequently known by the queen, who however forgave Mirabeau, and did not allow it to interfere with her liaisons with the great orator.  But the cold-blooded infamy must have found its way to her heart as an ominous warning of what she might fear hereafter.