g and
his family are about to be massacred. The King put an end to all
irresolution in saying these words: 'There is nothing more to do here.'"

At first, Louis XVI. seemed not to repent of the step he had been
obliged to take. Even in that wretched hole, the Logograph box, his
face at first was calm and even confident. As the shouting had
increased outside, Vergniaud ordered the removal of the iron grating
separating this box from the hall, so that in case the populace made an
irruption into the lobbies, the King could take refuge in the midst of
the deputies. In default of workmen and tools, the deputies nearest at
hand, the Duke de Choiseul, Prince de Poix, and the ministers,
undertook to tear away the grating, and Louis XVI. himself, accustomed
to the rough work of a locksmith, joined his efforts to theirs. The
fastenings having been broken in this manner, the unfortunate sovereign
seemed not {304} to doubt the sentiments of the National Assembly. He
pointed out the most remarkable deputies to the Dauphin, chatted with
several among them, and looked on at the session like a mere spectator
in a box at the theatre.

The royal family had been nearly two hours at the Assembly when all of
a sudden a frightful discharge of musketry and artillery was heard.
The deputies of the left grew pale with fear and anger, thinking
themselves betrayed. Casting glances of uneasiness and wrath at the
feeble monarch, they accused him of having ordered a massacre, and said
that all was lost. An officer of the National Guard rushed in, crying:
"We are pursued, we are overpowered!" The galleries, affrighted,
imagined that the Swiss would arrive at any moment. Excitement was at
its height. Sinister, imposing, dreadful moment! Solemn hour, when
the monarchy, amidst a frightful tempest, was like a venerable oak
which lightning has just stricken; when terror, wrath, and pity
disputed the possession of men's souls, and when the King, already
captive, was present like Charles V. at his own funeral. Marie
Antoinette had started. At the sound of the cannon her cheeks kindled
and her eyes blazed. A vague hope animated her. Perhaps, she said
within herself, the monarchy is at last to be avenged; perhaps the
Swiss are about to give the insurrection a lesson it will remember;
perhaps Louis XVI. will re-enter in triumph the palace of his
forefathers. The daughter of Caesars prayed God in silence, and
supplicated {305} Him to grant vi