[The Duc d’Orleans, the early and interested propagator of the Revolution, was its next victim.  Billaud Varennes said in the Convention:  “The time has come when all the conspirators should be known and struck.  I demand that we no longer pass over in silence a man whom we seem to have forgotten, despite the numerous facts against him.  I demand that D’ORLEANS be sent to the Revolutionary Tribunal.”  The Convention, once his hireling adulators, unanimously supported the proposal.  In vain he alleged his having been accessory to the disorders of 5th October, his support of the revolt on 10th August, 1792, his vote against the King on 17th January, 1793.  His condemnation was pronounced.  He then asked only for a delay of twenty-four hours, and had a repast carefully prepared, on which he feasted with avidity.  When led out for execution he gazed with a smile on the Palais Royal, the scene of his former orgies.  He was detained for a quarter of an hour before that palace by the order of Robespierre, who had asked his daughter’s hand, and promised in return to excite a tumult in which the Duke’s life should be saved.  Depraved though he was, he would not consent to such a sacrifice, and he met his fate with stoical fortitude.—­Allison, vol. iii., p. 172.]

It was the only piece of news that reached us during the whole winter.”

The severity with which the prisoners were treated was carried into every detail of their life.  The officers who guarded them took away their chessmen and cards because some of them were named kings and queens, and all the books with coats of arms on them; they refused to get ointment for a gathering on Madame Elisabeth’s arm; they, would not allow her to make a herb-tea which she thought would strengthen her niece; they declined to supply fish or eggs on fast-days or during Lent, bringing only coarse fat meat, and brutally replying to all remonstances, “None but fools believe in that stuff nowadays.”  Madame Elisabeth never made the officials another request, but reserved some of the bread and cafe-au-lait from her breakfast for her second meal.  The time during which she could be thus tormented was growing short.

On 9th May, 1794, as the Princesses were going to bed, the outside bolts of the door were unfastened and a loud knocking was heard.  “When my aunt was dressed,” says Madame Royale, “she opened the door, and they said to her, ’Citoyenne, come down.’—­’And my niece?’—­’We shall take care of her afterwards.’  She embraced me, and to calm my agitation promised to return.  ‘No, citoyenne,’ said the men, ‘bring your bonnet; you shall not return.’  They overwhelmed her with abuse, but she bore it patiently, embracing me, and exhorting me to trust in Heaven, and never to forget the last commands of my father and mother.”

Madame Elisabeth was then taken to the Conciergerie, where she was interrogated by the vice-president at midnight, and then allowed to take some hours rest on the bed on which Marie Antoinette had slept for the last time.  In the morning she was brought before the tribunal, with twenty-four other prisoners, of varying ages and both sexes, some of whom had once been frequently seen at Court.