ly; but a
device so obvious was seen through at once, and no indulgence was
allowed. The woman had to get off the bed and enter the chaise again.

The great berlin travelled back more slowly than it came, being
surrounded by sixty thousand National Guards, besides the crowds of
other people who drew near to see the captive royal family. There was
so much indecent joy, so much insult shown by the ignorant and fierce
among the crowd, that civility which would have been thought nothing of
at another time touched the feelings of the unhappy ladies. The queen
was delighted with the manners of a lady at whose house they rested,--
the wife of Monsieur Renard, the mayor of Ferte-sous-Jouarre. The mayor
waited upon the king at table; and Madame Renard did all she could to
make the ladies comfortable. Everything was done so quietly that the
queen did not discover, for a long time, who she was. When, at length,
the queen inquired whether she was not the mistress of the house, Madame
Renard replied, "I was so, Madame, before your Majesty honoured this
abode with your presence." To us there appears some affectation in this
speech; but the queen was now so unused to homage from strangers that
she shed tears at the words.

The Dauphin did not travel back, as he came, on the lap of Madame de
Tourzel. The National Assembly sent three of its members from Paris to
meet and travel with the royal family. Two of these members were to be
in the carriage with the king; so that Madame de Tourzel had to turn
out. The other member and she joined the two waiting-maids in the
carriage behind. The pretended couriers were bound with cords, and rode
conspicuous to all eyes on the top of the berlin.

Monsieur Barnave, one of the king's new travelling companions, was so
considerate, polite, and gentlemanly, that the royal party decided and
declared that, if ever they regained their power, Monsieur Barnave
should be pardoned the part he had taken in the Revolution. It does not
seem to have occurred to them that they might have been prejudiced
against him and others,--that the revolutionary leaders might not have
been altogether so wicked and detestable as the Court had been
accustomed to call them. Barnave, on his part, seems to have been
touched by the sorrows of the queen; and it is probable that he
discovered now that he had been prejudiced--too strongly wrought upon by
the queen's enemies.

A poor clergyman, endeavouring to reach the