believed that he had done enough, and would easily gather
the ripe fruit in the morning. Having informed the President of the
Assembly, still ostensibly sitting, that order was restored, he went
home to bed. He had had a long and trying day. His rest was destined
to be short. Before daybreak a small band of ruffians, of the kind
which the Revolution furnished as a proper instrument for
conspirators, made their way by the garden entrance into the Palace.
Those who aimed at the life of the king came upon a guard-room full of
sleeping soldiers, and retired. The real object of popular hatred was
the queen, and those who came for her were not so easily turned from
their design. Two men on guard who fired upon them were dragged into
the street and butchered, and their heads were borne as trophies to
the Palais Royal. Their comrades fled for safety to the interior of
the Palace. But one, who was posted at the door of Marie Antoinette,
stood his ground, and his name, Miomandre de Sainte Marie, lives as a
household word. One of the queen's ladies, whose sister has left a
record of the scene, was awakened by the noise and opened the door.
She saw the sentry, his face streaming with blood, holding a crowd at
bay. He called to her to save the queen and fell, with the lock of a
musket beaten into his brain. She instantly fastened the lock, roused
the queen, and hurried her, without stopping to dress, to the king's
apartment.

The National Guard from Paris, who were outside, had not protected the
two first victims; but then they interfered, and the Gardes
Francaises, who had been the first mutineers, and had become the solid
nucleus of the Parisian army, poured into the Palace. As they had made
their expedition of the day before for no other purpose than to drive
the royal troops away and to take their place, none could tell what
the meeting of the two corps would be, and the king's men barricaded
themselves against the new comers. But an officer reminded the Gardes
Francaises of the day when the two regiments had withstood the
English, side by side, and theirs had been rescued by the Gardes du
Corps. So they called out, "Remember Fontenoy"; and the others
answered the challenge and unbarred the door.

By the time that Lafayette appeared, roused from untimely slumber, his
men were masters of the Palace, and stood between the royal family and
the raging mob of baffled murderers. He made the captured guardsmen
safe; but although he w