as the fright which he appeared in before the Queen.  How admirable is the sympathy of fearful souls!  Neither the Cardinal nor the Queen were much moved at what M. de La Meilleraye had strongly urged on them, but the fears of the lieutenant seized them like an infection, so that they were all on a sudden metamorphosed.  They ridiculed me no longer, and suffered it to be debated whether or no it was expedient to restore Broussel to the people before they took arms, as they had threatened to do.  Here I reflected that it is more natural to the passion of fear to consult than to determine.

The Cardinal proposed that I, as the fittest person, should go and assure the people that the Queen would consent to the restoration of Broussel, provided they would disperse.  I saw the snare, but could not get away from it, the rather because Meilleraye dragged me, as it were, to go along with him,—­telling her Majesty that he would dare to appear in the streets in my company, and that he did not question but we should do wonders.  I said that I did not doubt it either, provided the Queen would order a promise to be drawn in due form for restoring the prisoners, because I had not credit enough with the people to be believed upon my bare word.  They praised my modesty, Meilleraye was assured of success, and they said the Queen’s word was better than all writings whatsoever.  In a word, I was made the catspaw, and found myself under the necessity of acting the most ridiculous part that perhaps ever fell to any man’s share.  I endeavoured to reply; but the Duc d’Orleans pushed me out gently with both hands, saying, “Go and restore peace to the State;” and the Marshal hurried me away, the Life-guards carrying me along in their arms, and telling me that none but myself could remedy this evil.  I went out in my rochet and camail, dealing out benedictions to the people on my right and left, preaching obedience, exerting all my endeavours to appease the tumult, and telling them the Queen had assured me that, provided they would disperse, she would restore Broussel.

The violence of the Marshal hardly gave me time to express myself, for he instantly put himself at the head of the Horse-guards, and, advancing sword in hand, cried aloud, “God bless the King, and liberty to Broussel!” but being seen more than he was heard, his drawn sword did more harm than his proclaiming liberty to Broussel did good.  The people took to their arms and had an encounter with the Marshal, upon which I threw myself into the crowd, and expecting that both sides would have some regard to my robes and dignity, the Marshal ordered the Light-horse to fire no more, and the citizens with whom he was engaged held their hands; but others of them continued firing and throwing stones, by one of which I was knocked down, and had no sooner got up than a citizen was going to knock me down with a musket.  Though I did not know his name, yet I had the presence of mind to cry out, “Forbear, wretch; if thy father