ht
possibly be attempted by the peasantry. The king also had a large
carriage built privately, expressly for himself and his family, while
certain necessary attendants were to follow in another.

The Marquis de Bouille, who commanded a portion of the troops still
faithful to the king, was the prime confidant and helper in this
movement. He earnestly, but in vain, endeavored to induce the king to
make some alterations in this plan. He entreated him, in the first
place, not to excite suspicion by the use of a peculiar carriage
constructed for his own use, but to make use of common carriages such as
were daily seen traversing the roads. He also besought him to travel by
the common high way, where relays of horses were at all times ready by
night and by day. He represented to the king that, should he take the
unfrequented route, it would be necessary to send relays of horses
beforehand to all these little villages; that so unusual an occurrence
would attract attention and provoke inquiry. He urged also upon the king
that detachments of troops sent along these solitary roads would excite
curiosity, and would inevitably create suspicion. The king, however,
self-willed, refused to heed these remonstrances, and persisted in his
own plan. He, however, consented to take with him the Marquis d'Agoult,
a man of great firmness and energy, to advise and assist in the
unforeseen accidents which might embarrass the enterprise. He also
reluctantly consented to ask the Emperor of Austria to make a
threatening movement toward the frontier, which would be an excuse for
the movement through these villages of detachments of French troops.

These arrangements made, the Marquis de Bouille sent a faithful officer
to take an accurate survey of the road, and present a report to the
king. He then, under various pretexts, removed to a distance those
troops who were known to be disaffected to the royal cause, and
endeavored to gather along the line of flight those in whose loyalty
he thought he could confide.

At the palace of the Tuileries, the secret of the contemplated flight
had been confided only to the king, the queen, the Princess Elizabeth,
sister of the king, and two or three faithful attendants. The Count de
Fersen, a most noble-spirited young gentleman from Sweden, most
cheerfully periled his life in undertaking the exterior arrangements of
this hazardous enterprise. He had often been admitted, in the happy days
of Maria Antoinette, to