He went away, and I thought the enterprise would be abandoned.  However, the Queen remained alone with me till midnight, preparing her cases of valuables, and ordered me not to go to bed.  She imagined the King’s answer would be understood as a tacit consent, and merely a refusal to participate in the design.  I do not know what passed in the King’s apartments during the night; but I occasionally looked out at the windows:  I saw the garden clear; I heard no noise in the palace, and day at length confirmed my opinion that the project had been given up.  “We must, however, fly,” said the Queen to me, shortly afterwards; “who knows how far the factious may go?  The danger increases every day.”

[The disturbances of the 13th of April, 1790, occasioned by the warmth of the discussions upon Dom Gerle’s imprudent motion in the National Assembly, having afforded room for apprehension that the enemies of the country would endeavour to carry off the King from the capital, M. de La Fayette promised to keep watch, and told Louis XVI. that if he saw any alarming movement among the disaffected he would give him notice of it by the discharge of a cannon from Henri IV.’s battery on the Pont Neuf.  On the same night a few casual discharges of musketry were heard from the terrace of the Tuileries.  The King, deceived by the noise, flew to the Queen’s apartments; he did not find her; he ran to the Dauphin’s room, where he found the Queen holding her son in her arms.  “Madame;” said the King to her, “I have been seeking you; and you have made me uneasy.”  The Queen, showing her son, said to him, “I was at my post.”—­“Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI.”]

This Princess received advice and memorials from all quarters.  Rivarol addressed several to her, which I read to her.  They were full of ingenious observations; but the Queen did not find that they, contained anything of essential service under the circumstances in which the royal family was placed.  Comte du Moustier also sent memorials and plans of conduct.  I remember that in one of his writings he said to the King, “Read ‘Telemachus’ again, Sire; in that book which delighted your Majesty in infancy you will find the first seeds of those principles which, erroneously followed up by men of ardent imaginations, are bringing on the explosion we expect every moment.”  I read so many of these memorials that I could hardly give a faithful account of them, and I am determined to note in this work no other events than such as I witnessed; no other words than such as (notwithstanding the lapse of time) still in some measure vibrate in my ears.

Comte de Segur, on his return from Russia, was employed some time by the Queen, and had a certain degree of influence over her; but that did not last long.  Comte Augustus de la Marck likewise endeavoured to negotiate for the King’s advantage with the leaders of the factious.  M. de Fontanges, Archbishop of Toulouse, possessed also the Queen’s confidence; but none of the endeavours which were made on the spot produced any, beneficial result.  The Empress Catherine II. also conveyed her opinion upon the situation of Louis XVI. to the Queen, and her Majesty made me read a few lines in the Empress’s own handwriting, which concluded with these words: