The king, the queen, Madame Elizabeth, and the children, lay down for a short time, dressed as they were, in the rooms at M. Sausse’s, amidst the threatening murmurs of the people and the noise of footsteps, that at each instant increased beneath their window.  Such was the state of affairs at Varennes at seven o’clock in the morning.  The queen had not slept; all her feelings as a wife, a mother, a queen—­rage, terror, despair,—­waged so terrible a conflict in her mind, that her hair, which had been auburn on the previous evening, was in the morning white as snow.

XV.

At Paris the most profound mystery had covered the king’s departure.  M. de La Fayette, who had twice been to the Tuileries, to assure himself with his own eyes that his orders had been strictly obeyed, quitted it at midnight, perfectly convinced that its walls would securely guard the people’s hostages.  It was only at seven o’clock in the morning of the 21st of June, that the servants of the chateau, on entering the apartments of the king and queen, found the beds undisturbed and the rooms deserted, and spread the alarm amongst the palace guard.  The fugitive family had thus ten or twelve hours’ start of any attempt that could be made to pursue them; and even supposing it could be ascertained which road they had taken, they could be only stopped by couriers, and the body guard who accompanied the king would arrest the couriers without difficulty.  Moreover, no attempt could be made to oppose their flight by force before they had reached the town in which were stationed the detachments of M. de Bouille.

All Paris was in the greatest confusion.  The report flew from the chateau, and spread like wildfire into the neighbouring quartiers, and from thence into the faubourgs.  The words, “The king has escaped,” were in every body’s mouth; yet no one could believe it.  Crowds flocked to the chateau, to assure themselves of the fact—­they questioned the guards—­inveighed against the traitors—­every one believed that some conspiracy was on the point of breaking out.  The name of M. de La Fayette, coupled with invectives, was on every tongue.  “Is he a fool—­is he a confederate? how is it possible that so many of the royal family could have passed the gates—­the guards—­without connivance?” The doors were forced open, to enable the people to visit the royal apartments.  Divided between stupor and insult, they avenged themselves on inanimate objects, for the long respect with which these dwellings of kings had inspired them—­and they passed from awe to derision.  A portrait of the king was taken from the bed-chamber and hung up at the gate of the chateau, as an article of furniture for sale.  A fruit woman took possession of the queen’s bed, to sell her cherries in, saying, “It is to-day the nation’s turn to take their ease.”