“Monsieur,” said she, with that accent that reveals at once resentment against fortune, and contempt for fate; “you are all-powerful at this moment; but it is through popular favour, and that soon destroys its idols.”  She did not await his reply, but continued, “Your existence depends upon your conduct; it is said that you possess great talents, and you must imagine that neither the king nor myself can suffer all these innovations of the constitution.  I tell you thus much frankly, so make your decision.”  “Madame,” returned Dumouriez, “I am confounded by the dangerous disclosure your Majesty has thought fit to make me; I will not betray your confidence, but I am placed between the king and the nation, and I belong to my country.  Permit me,” continued Dumouriez, with respectful earnestness, “to represent to you that the safety of the king—­your own—­and that of your children, and the very re-establishment of the royal authority—­is bound up with the constitution.  You are surrounded by enemies, who sacrifice you to their own interests.  The constitution alone can, by strengthening itself, protect you and assure the happiness and glory of the king.”  “It cannot last long, beware of yourself,” returned the queen, with a look of anger and menace.  Dumouriez imagined that he saw in this look and speech an allusion to personal danger and an insinuation of alarm.  “I am more than fifty years old, madame,” replied he, in a low tone, in which the firmness of the soldier was mingled with the pity of the man; “I have braved many perils in my life; and when I accepted the ministry, I well knew that my responsibility was not the greatest of my dangers.”  “Ah,” cried the queen, with a gesture of horror, “this calumny and disgrace was alone wanting!  You appear to believe me capable of causing you to be assassinated.”  Tears of indignation checked her utterance.  Dumouriez, equally moved with herself, disclaimed the injurious interpretation given to his reply.  “Far be it from me, madame, to offer you so cruel an insult; your soul is great and noble, and the heroism you have displayed in so many circumstances, has for ever attached me to you.”  She was appeased in a moment, and laid her hand on Dumouriez’s arm, in token of reconciliation.

The minister profited by this return to serenity and confidence to give Marie Antoinette advice, of which the emotion of his features and voice sufficiently attested the sincerity.  “Trust me, madame, I have no motive for deceiving you; I abhor anarchy and its crimes equally with yourself.  But I have experience; I live in the centre of the different parties, and I take part in opinion.  I am connected with the people, and I am better placed than your majesty for judging the extent and the direction of events.  This is not, as you deem it, a popular movement; but the almost unanimous insurrection of a great nation against an old and decaying order of things.  Mighty factions feed the flame, and in every one of