This calmness of hatred did not escape the king; the day was burning hot.  A scorching sun, reflected by the pavement and the bayonets, was almost suffocating in the berlin, where ten persons were squeezed together.  Volumes of dust, raised by the trampling of two or three hundred thousand spectators, was the only veil which from time to time covered the humiliation of the king and queen from the triumph of the people.  The sweat of the horses, the feverish breath of this multitude compact and excited, made the atmosphere dense and fetid.  The travellers panted for breath, the foreheads of the two children were bathed in perspiration.  The queen, trembling for them, let down one of the windows of the carriage quickly, and addressing the crowd in an appeal to their compassion, “See, gentlemen,” she exclaimed, “in what a state my poor children are—­one is choking!” “We will choke you in another fashion,” replied these ferocious men in an under tone.

From time to time violent attempts of the mob broke through the line, pushed aside the horses, and men reaching the doors mounted on the steps.  Merciless ruffians, looking in silence on the king, the queen, and the dauphin, seemed calculating on final crimes, and feeding on the degradation of royalty.  Bodies of gendarmerie restored order from time to time.  The procession resumed its way in the midst of the clashing of sabres, and the cries of men trampled under the horses’ hoofs.  La Fayette, who feared attempts and surprises in the streets of Paris, desired general Damas, the commandant of the escort, not to traverse the city.  He placed troops in deep line on the boulevard from the barrier De l’Etoile to the Tuileries.  The national guard bordered this line.  The Swiss guards were also drawn up, but their flags no longer lowered before their master.  No military honour was paid to the supreme head of the army.  The national guards, resting on their arms, did not salute them, but saw the cortege pass by in an attitude of force, indifference, and contempt.

XXVI.

The carriages entered in the garden of the Tuileries by the turning bridge.  La Fayette, on horseback at the head of his staff, had gone to meet the procession, and now headed it.  During his absence an immense crowd had filled the garden, the terraces, and obstructed the gate of the chateau.  The escort had the greatest difficulty in forcing its way through this tumultuous mass.  They made every man keep his hat on.  M. de Guillermy, a member of the Assembly, alone remained uncovered, in spite of the threats and insults which this mark of respect brought down upon him.  It was then that the queen, perceiving M. de La Fayette, and fearing for her faithful body-guard sitting in the carriage, and threatened by the people, exclaimed, “Monsieur de La Fayette, save the gardes du corps.”