derstanding soon existed between the queen and the general.

The queen was for some time faithful to her promises, but the repeated
outrages of the people again moved her, in spite of herself, to anger
and conspiracy. "See," said she to the king before Dumouriez, one day,
pointing to the tops of the trees in the Tuileries; "a prisoner in this
palace, I do not venture to show myself at the windows that look on to
the garden. The crowd collected there, and who watch even my tears, hoot
me. Yesterday, to breathe the air, I showed myself at a window that
looks at the court; an artillery-man on guard addressed the most
revolting language to me. 'How I should like,' added he, 'to see your
head on the point of my bayonet!' In this frightful garden I see on one
side a man mounted on a chair, and vociferating the most odious insults
against us, whilst he threatens, by his gestures, the inhabitants of the
palace; on the other, the populace is dragging to the basin some priest
or soldier, whom they overwhelm with blows and outrages, whilst, at the
same time, and close to these terrible scenes, persons are playing at
ball or walking about in the _allees_. What a residence--what a
life--what a people!" Dumouriez could but lament with the royal family,
and exhort them to be patient. But the endurance of the victims is
exhausted sooner than the cruelty of the executioner. How could it be
expected that a courageous and proud princess, who had been constantly
surrounded by the adulation of the court, could love the Revolution that
was the instrument of her humiliation and her torture? or see in this
indifferent and cruel nation a people worthy of empire and of liberty?

XIV.

When all his measures with the court were concerted, Dumouriez no longer
hesitated to leap over the space that divided the king and the extreme
party, and to give the government the form of pure patriotism. He made
overtures to the Jacobins, and boldly presented himself at their sitting
the next day. The chamber was thronged, and the apparition of Dumouriez
struck the tribunes with mute astonishment. His martial figure and the
impetuosity of his conduct won for him at once the favour of the
Assembly; for no one suspected that so much audacity concealed so much
stratagem, and they saw in him only the minister who threw himself into
the arms of the people, and every one hastened to receive him.

It was the moment when the _bonnet rouge_, the symbol of extreme
op