olding offices at Court; and this jargon, at
that time in the mouths of all the partisans of the Revolution, was
terminated by an observation which frightened me. "You know many
important secrets, madame," said this woman to me, "and I have guessed
quite as many. I am not a fool; I see all that is going forward here in
consequence of the bad advice given to the King and Queen; I could
frustrate it all if I chose." This argument, in which I had been promptly
silenced, left me pale and trembling. Unfortunately, as I began my
narrative to the Queen with particulars of this woman's refusal to obey
me,--and sovereigns are all their lives importuned with complaints upon
the rights of places,--she believed that my own dissatisfaction had much
to do with the step I was taking; and she did not sufficiently fear the
woman. Her office, although a very inferior one, brought her in nearly
fifteen thousand francs a year. Still young, tolerably handsome, with
comfortable apartments in the entresols of the Tuileries, she saw a great
deal of company, and in the evening had assemblies, consisting of deputies
of the revolutionary party. M. de Gouvion, major-general of the National
Guard, passed almost every day with her; and it is to be presumed that she
had long worked for the party in opposition to the Court. The Queen asked
her for the key of a door which led to the principal vestibule of the
Tuileries, telling her she wished to have a similar one, that she might
not be under the necessity of going out through the pavilion of Flora. M.
de Gouvion and M. de La Fayette would, of course, be apprised of this
circumstance, and well-informed persons have assured me that on the very
night of the Queen's departure this wretched woman had a spy with her, who
saw the royal family set off.

As soon as I had executed all the Queen's orders, on the 30th of May,
1791, I set out for Auvergne, and was settled in the gloomy narrow valley
of Mont d'Or, when, about four in the afternoon of the 25th of June, I
heard the beat of a drum to call the inhabitants of the hamlet together.
When it had ceased I heard a hairdresser from Bresse proclaim in the
provincial dialect of Auvergne: "The King and Queen were taking flight in
order to ruin France, but I come to tell you that they are stopped, and
are well guarded by a hundred thousand men under arms." I still ventured
to hope that he was repeating only a false report, but he went on: "The
Queen," with