IV.

When Dumouriez reached his house, he learnt that there had been gatherings of the populace in the Faubourg St. Antoine, and he informed the king, who believing that he intended to alarm him, lost his confidence in Dumouriez, who instantly offered his resignation, which the king accepted.  The portfolio of the ministry of foreign affairs was confided to Chambonas; that of war to Lajard, a soldier of La Fayette’s party; that of the interior to M. de Monciel, a constitutional Feuillant and friend of the king.  This was on the 17th of June.  The Jacobins, the people incited by the Girondists, were already disturbing the capital:  all announced a coming insurrection.  These ministers, without any armed force, without popularity, without party, thus accepted the responsibility of the perils accumulated by their predecessors.  The king saw Dumouriez once again—­it was the last time.  The farewell between the monarch and his minister was affecting.

“You are going to the army?” said the king.  “Yes, sire,” replied Dumouriez, “and I should leave with joy this fearful city, if I had not a feeling of the dangers impending over your majesty.  Deign to listen to me, sire; I am never destined to see you again.  I am fifty-three years of age, and have much experience.  They abuse your conscience with respect to the decree against the priests, and are pushing you on to civil war.  You are without strength, defenceless, and you will sink under it, whilst History, though full of commiseration for you, will accuse you of the misfortunes of your people.”

The king was seated near a table where he had just signed the general’s accounts.  Dumouriez was standing beside him with clasped hands.  The king took his hands in his own, and said to him, in a voice sorrowful but resigned, “God is my witness, that I only think of the happiness of France.”  “I never doubted it, sire,” responded Dumouriez, deeply affected.  “You owe an account to God, not only for the purity, but also for the enlightened use, of your intentions.  You think to save religion:  you destroy it.  The priests will be massacred:  your crown will be taken from you; perhaps even your queen and children—.”  He did not finish, but pressed his lips to the king’s hand, who shed tears.

“I await—­expect death,” replied the king, sorrowfully; “and I pardon my enemies already.  I am grateful to you for your sensibility.  You have served me well, and I esteem you.  Adieu—­be more happy than I am!” And on saying these words Louis XVI. went to a recess in a window at the end of the chamber, in order to conceal the trouble he felt.  Dumouriez never saw him again.  He shut himself up for several days in retirement, in a lonely quarter of Paris.  Looking upon the army as the only refuge for a citizen still capable of serving his country, he set out for Douai, the head quarters of Luckner.

V.