saddle before the Military School, the sovereign sees file by the
twelve legions, with unanimous cheers. The review closed, the King says
to Marshal Oudinot, commandant-in-chief of the National Guard: "It
might have passed off better; there were some mar-plots, but the mass
is good, and on the whole, I am satisfied."

The Marshal asks, if, in the order of the day he may mention the
satisfaction of the King. "Yes," replied Charles X., "but I wish to
know the terms in which this sentiment is expressed."

The sovereign returns on horseback to the Tuileries, while each legion
goes to its own quarter. When he arrives at the Pavilion de l'Horloge,
he is received by his two grandchildren. Mademoiselle throws herself
upon his neck: "Bon-papa, you are content, aren't you?"--"Yes, almost,"
he answers. The Count de Bourbon-Busset, who is in the sovereign's
suite, says to the Duchess of Gontaut, his mother-in-law, that all has
passed off well. The Duchess of Angouleme, who has just alighted from
her carriage, as well as the Duchess of Berry, hears this phrase; she
cries: "You are not hard to please." The two princesses are as agitated
as the King is calm. At the moment of their return they have been
greeted with violent cries of "Down with the ministers! Down with the
Jesuits!" It is even said that there was a cry of "Down with the
Jesuitesses!" The clang of arms rendered these violent clamors more
sinister. The daughter of Louis XVI. and the widow of the Duke of Berry
believed themselves doubly insulted as women and as princesses. The
Duchess of Angouleme, with intrepid countenance, but deeply irritated,
trembled with indignation. It seemed to her that the Revolution was
being revived. The scenes of horror that her uncle Charles X. had not
beheld, but of which she had been the witness and the victim, arose
before her again,--the 5th and the 6th of October, 1789, the 20th of
June, and the 10th of August, 1792.

While the Dauphiness gives herself up to the gloomiest reflections, the
Third Legion of the National Guard is passing under the windows of the
Minister of Finance in the Rue de Rivoli. The minister, M. de Villele,
has passed the day at the ministry, receiving from hour to hour news of
the review. The blinds of his windows are closed. At the moment when
the Third Legion files through the street, the band ceases to play, the
drums stop beating. Cries of fury break from the ranks: "Down with the
ministers! Down with the Jesui