the back of the person who stood before him, and who begged he would be good enough to rest it elsewhere.  A sword and a pair of pistols were the only arms of those who had had the precaution to provide themselves with arms at all.  Meanwhile, the numerous bands from the faubourgs, armed with pikes and cutlasses, filled the Carrousel and the streets adjacent to the Tuileries.  The sanguinary Marseillais were at their head, with cannon pointed against the Chateau.  In this emergency the King’s Council sent M. Dejoly, the Minister of Justice, to the Assembly to request they would send the King a deputation which might serve as a safeguard to the executive power.  His ruin was resolved on; they passed to the order of the day.  At eight o’clock the department repaired to the Chateau.  The procureur-syndic, seeing that the guard within was ready to join the assailants, went into the King’s closet and requested to speak to him in private.  The King received him in his chamber; the Queen was with him.  There M. Roederer told him that the King, all his family, and the people about them would inevitably perish unless his Majesty immediately determined to go to the National Assembly.  The Queen at first opposed this advice, but the procureur-syndic told her that she rendered herself responsible for the deaths of the King, her children, and all who were in the palace.  She no longer objected.  The King then consented to go to the Assembly.  As he set out, he said to the minister and persons who surrounded him, “Come, gentlemen, there is nothing more to be done here.”

["The King hesitated, the Queen manifested the highest dissatisfaction.  ‘What!’ said she,’ are we alone; is there nobody who can act?’—­’Yes, Madame, alone; action is useless—­resistance is impossible.’  One of the members of the department, M. Gerdrot, insisted on the prompt execution of the proposed measure.  ‘Silence, monsieur,’ said the Queen to him; ’silence; you are the only person who ought to be silent here; when the mischief is done, those who did it should not pretend to wish to remedy it.’ . . .

“The King remained mute; nobody spoke.  It was reserved for me to give the last piece of advice.  I had the firmness to say, ’Let us go, and not deliberate; honour commands it, the good of the State requires it.  Let us go to the National Assembly; this step ought to have been taken long ago:  ‘Let us go,’ said the King, raising his right hand; ’let us start; let us give this last mark of self-devotion, since it is necessary.’  The Queen was persuaded.  Her first anxiety was for the King, the second for her son; the King had none.  ‘M.  Roederer—­gentlemen,’ said the Queen, ’you answer for the person of the King; you answer for that of my son.’—­’Madame,’ replied M. Roederer, ’we pledge ourselves to die at your side; that is all we can engage for.’”—­Montjoie, “History of Marie Antoinette.”]

The Queen said to me as she left the King’s chamber, “Wait in my apartments; I will come to you, or I will send for you to go I know not whither.”  She took with her only the Princesse de Lamballe and Madame de Tourzel.  The Princesse de Tarente and Madame de la Roche-Aymon were inconsolable at being left at the Tuileries; they, and all who belonged to the chamber, went down into the Queen’s apartments.