“Gentlemen,” said he, with a voice which, amid the general silence, sounded solemn and powerful—­“gentlemen, I have a sad message to bring before you.  The mayor of Paris has just now informed me that the king and his family have this night been seduced into flight by the enemies of the people.” [Footnote:  Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol i., p. 171.]

This news had a stupendous effect on the deputies.  At first they sat there dumb, as if petrified with fear; then they all rose up to make their remarks and motions in a whirl of confusion, and it required all the energy and determination of the president to re-establish peace, and to control their minds.

The Assembly then, in quiet debate, resolved to declare itself in permanent session until the termination of this crisis, and gave to the president full power during this time to provide for the tranquillity and security of the Assembly.  Bailly and Lafayette were by the president summoned before the deputies, to state what the sentiments of Paris were, what was the attitude of the National Guards, what were the precautions they had taken to preserve aright the peace of Paris.

But this peace was not in danger, and the only one whom the Parisian people at this moment dreaded, was he who had fled from Paris—­the king.  And yet, not for a moment did the people rise in anger against the king; actuated by a new and overpowering thought, the people in their enthusiasm for this idea forgot their anger against him who by his deed had kindled this thought.  The thought which was uppermost in all minds at the flight of the king was this:  that the state could subsist even if there were no king at its head; that law and order still remained in Paris, even when the king had fled.

This law and order was the National Assembly, the living representation and embodiment of the law; the government was there; the king alone had disappeared.  Such was the sentiment which animated all classes, which brought the people in streaming masses to the palace where the National Assembly held its sittings.  A few hours after the news of the king’s flight had spread through Paris, thousands were besieging the National Assembly, and shouting enthusiastically:  “Our king is here; he is in the hall of session.  Louis XVI. can go; he can do what he wills; our king is still in Paris!” [Footnote:  Prudhomme, “Histoire Parlementaire de la Revolution,” vol. x. p. 241.]

The Assembly, “the King of Paris,” remained in permanent session, waiting for the developments of events, and working out in committees the decrees passed in common deliberation, whilst the president and the secretary remained the whole night in the council-room, so as to be ready at any moment to rectify fresh news and to issue the necessary orders.

Early next morning the most important news had reached the president, and the deputies hastened from their respective committees into the hall of session, there to take their seats.