ng with the tone of the man of the world the
views and opinions of the deputies. Victor de Gisons was constantly
at the house, and strove by his cheerfulness and gaiety to dissipate
the shade of melancholy which still hung over Marie.

Towards the end of July the Marquis de St. Caux and the little
body of royalists who still remained faithful to the king became
more and more anxious; the position of the royal family was now
most precarious; most of the troops in Paris had been sent to the
frontier, and those left behind were disorganized and ready to join
the mob. Two out of the three Swiss battalions had been sent away
and but one remained at the Tuileries. Of the National Guard only
the battalion of Filles St. Thomas and part of the battalion of
the Saints Pares could be trusted to defend the king. The rest were
opposed to him, and would certainly join the populace.

On the 14th of July a large number of National Guards from the
provinces had arrived in Paris; and the battalion from Marseilles,
the most violent of all, had, immediately that it arrived in the
city, come into collision with one of the loyal battalions.

The royalists were wholly without organization, their sole aim
being to defend the king should he be in danger, and if necessary
to die by his side.

On the evening before the 10th of August the tocsin was heard to
sound and the drums to beat to arms. All day there had been sinister
rumours circulating, but the king had sent privately to his friends
that the danger was not imminent and that he had no need of them;
however, as soon as the alarm sounded the marquis snatched up a
sword and prepared to start for the palace. He embraced his wife,
who was calm but very pale, and his children. Ernest asked to be
allowed to go with him, but the marquis said:

"No, my son, my life is the king's; but yours at present is due
to your mother and sisters."

It was twenty-four hours before he returned. His clothes were torn,
his head was bound up, and one of his arms disabled. The marquise
gave a cry of delight as he entered. No one had slept since he
left, for every hour fresh rumours of fighting had arrived, and
the sound of cannon and musketry had been heard in the early part
of the day.

"It is all over, wife!" he said. "We have done our best, but the
king will do nothing. We cannot say we have lost the battle, for
we have never tried to win it; but it would be the same thing in
the long run."

Before