d waited for a more
opportune moment. Some hours later, I hastily informed him what
questions had been asked me and what I had replied." (_Dernieres Annees
de Louis XVI., par Francois Hue_.)

The unfortunate sovereign doubtless believed that the others were also
about to return. Vain hope! During the day Manuel announced to the
King that none of them would come back to the Temple. "What has become
of them?" asked Louis XVI. anxiously.--"They are prisoners at the
Force," returned Manuel.--"What are they going to do with the only
servant I have left?" asked the King, glancing at M. Hue.--"The Commune
leaves him with you," said Manuel; "but as he cannot do everything, men
will be sent to assist him."--"I do not want them," replied Louis XVI.;
"what he cannot do, we will do ourselves. Please God, we will not
voluntarily give those who have been taken from us the chagrin of
seeing their places taken by others!" In Manuel's presence, the Queen
and Madame Elisabeth aided M. Hue to prepare the things most necessary
for the new prisoners of the Force. The two Princesses arranged the
packets of linen and other matters with the skill and activity of
chambermaids.

Behold the heir of Louis XIV., the King of France and Navarre, with but
a single servant left him! He has but one coat, and at night his
sister mends it. Behold the daughter of the German Caesars, with not
even one woman to wait upon her, and who waits on herself, incessantly
watched, meanwhile, by the {346} inquisitors of the Commune; who cannot
speak a word or make a gesture unwitnessed by a squad of informers who
pursue her even into the chamber where she goes to change her dress,
and who spy on her even when she is sleeping! And yet neither the
calmness nor the dignity of the prisoners suffers any loss.

There was but one thing that keenly annoyed Louis XVI. It was when, on
August 24, they deprived him, the chief of gentlemen, of his sword, as
if taking away his sceptre were not enough. He consoled himself by
prayer, meditation, and reading. He spent hours in the room containing
the library of the keeper of archives of the Order of Malta, who had
previously occupied the little tower. One day when he was looking for
books, he pointed out to M. Hue the works of Voltaire and Jean-Jacques
Rousseau. "Those two men have ruined France," said he in an undertone.
On another day he was pained by overhearing the insults heaped on this
faithful servant by one