guards
should be well treated; to which the multitude consented.

It was, however, far from their intention that the king should _follow_
them to Paris. They did not mean to lose sight of him, for fear he
should slip away. They caused General Lafayette to fix the hour at
which the king would go. One o'clock was fixed.

Till one, the royal grooms were preparing the carriages to convey the
royal family and suite,--a long train of coaches. The servants in the
palace were packing up what they could for so hurried a removal. The
royal children did no lessons that day, I should think; for Madame de
Tourzel, who was to go with them, must have been in great terror for the
whole party. Lafayette was establishing what order he could, riding
about, pale and anxious, to arrange what was called the Parisian army.
For two nights (and what nights!) he had not closed his eyes. The
people meantime searched out some granaries, and loaded carts with the
corn, to take with them to Paris.

A more extraordinary procession was perhaps never seen. Royal
carriages, and waggons full of corn,--the king's guards and the
ragamuffin crowd; round the king's carriage a mob of dirty, fierce
fish-women and market-women, eating as they walked, and sometimes
screaming out close at the coach-door, "We shall not want bread any
more. We have got the baker, and the baker's wife, and the little
baker's boy:"--such was the procession. There was another thing in it
which the king and queen saw, but which we must hope the children did
not,--the heads of two body-guards who had been killed early in the
morning, in the quarrel which led to the attack upon the queen.

The queen sat in her coach, seen by the vast multitude, for five long
hours,--calm, dignified, and silent. From one till two the royal
carriage had to stand, while the great procession was preparing to move;
and it did not enter Paris till dusk,--till six o'clock. It was still
raining,--a dull, drizzling rain. Louis could not have liked to hear
himself talked about as he was, by the loud dirty women that crowded
round the coach; nor to hear them speak to his mother. Some pointed to
the corn-waggons, and told her they had got what they wanted, in spite
of her. Some said, "Come now, don't you be a traitor any more, and we
will all love you." There were two hundred thousand people in this
procession.

When they reached Paris, the royal family did not go straight home to
the Tuileries