s past by the abuse of power by both kings and nobles, and
by herself among the rest. Unconscious of all this, she could make
nothing of what she heard this evening from a member of the Assembly.--
Some of the members arrived at six o'clock, too late to do any good.
The queen directed their notice to the broken doors, bidding them
observe the outrageous way in which the home of the royal family had
been violated. She saw signs of emotion in the countenance of Monsieur
Merlin de Thionville, and observed upon it. Monsieur Merlin replied
that he felt for her as a woman, a wife, and mother, but that she must
not suppose that he shed a single tear for the king or the queen; that
he hated kings and queens. It was the only feeling he had towards them;
it was his religion.--Now, however extravagant this man's feelings might
be, and however harsh his expression of them, such sayings might have
been a valuable lesson to one who could reflect and reason upon them,
and diligently try to discover how such feelings could have grown up in
millions of minds. This, however, the poor queen never thought of
doing. She called it madness; and felt as if in Bedlam, while
surrounded by those who were of the same mind as Monsieur Merlin.

At last the Mayor of Paris came. Monsieur Petion was now mayor: the
same who had pulled Louis's hair, on the return from Varennes, a year
before. He harangued the people: several others harangued; and at last
the mob marched out through the broken doors of the violated palace. It
was eight in the evening. When the members of this unhappy family could
get to one another, again, when they felt that they were once more
alone, they threw themselves into one another's arms, weeping bitterly.
The monarch and his people had met at last, face to face; and it was
only to find that there was, and could be, no agreement between them.
One of the parties must give way: the people were strong; the king was
weak, and his ruin was now certain. Little Louis understood nothing of
all this; but one wonders whether he could sleep that night,--whether he
could forget the frightful procession he had seen filling the very rooms
in which he lived.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER ELEVEN.

WHAT BEFELL WHILE THE QUEEN WAS HOPING.

The secret cipher letters went now faster than ever, and seem to have
been so urgent about speedy help and rescue as to have appeared somewhat
peevish to friends at a distance. The queen's sister wrot