that man loaded with his master’s bounties?”—­“He is here,” said I; “he is following me.  I perceive that even scenes of death do not banish jealousy from among you.”

Having belonged to the Court from my earliest youth, I was known to many persons whom I did not know.  As I traversed a corridor above the cloisters which led to the cells inhabited by the unfortunate Louis XVI. and his family, several of the grenadiers called me by name.  One of them said to me, “Well, the poor King is lost!  The Comte d’Artois would have managed it better.”—­“Not at all,” said another.

The royal family occupied a small suite of apartments consisting of four cells, formerly belonging to the ancient monastery of the Feuillans.  In the first were the men who had accompanied the King:  the Prince de Poix, the Baron d’Aubier, M. de Saint-Pardou, equerry to Madame Elisabeth, mm. de Goguelat, de Chamilly, and de Hue.  In the second we found the King; he was having his hair dressed; he took two locks of it, and gave one to my sister and one to me.  We offered to kiss his hand; he opposed it, and embraced us without saying anything.  In the third was the Queen, in bed, and in indescribable affliction.  We found her accompanied only by a stout woman, who appeared tolerably civil; she was the keeper of the apartments.  She waited upon the Queen, who as yet had none of her own people about her.  Her Majesty stretched out her arms to us, saying, “Come, unfortunate women; come, and see one still more unhappy than yourselves, since she has been the cause of all your misfortunes.  We are ruined,” continued she; “we have arrived at that point to which they have been leading us for three years, through all possible outrages; we shall fall in this dreadful revolution, and many others will perish after us.  All have contributed to our downfall; the reformers have urged it like mad people, and others through ambition, for the wildest Jacobin seeks wealth and office, and the mob is eager for plunder.  There is not one real patriot among all this infamous horde.  The emigrant party have their intrigues and schemes; foreigners seek to profit by the dissensions of France; every one has a share in our misfortunes.”

The Dauphin came in with Madame and the Marquise de Tourzel.  On seeing them the Queen said to me, “Poor children! how heartrending it is, instead of handing down to them so fine an inheritance, to say it ends with us!” She afterwards conversed with me about the Tuileries and the persons who had fallen; she condescended also to mention the burning of my house.  I looked upon that loss as a mischance which ought not to dwell upon her mind, and I told her so.  She spoke of the Princesse de Tarente, whom she greatly loved and valued, of Madame de la Roche-Aymon and her daughter, of the other persons whom she had left at the palace, and of the Duchesse de Luynes, who was to have passed the night at the Tuileries.  Respecting her she said, “Hers was one of the first heads turned by the rage for that mischievous philosophy; but her heart brought her back, and I again found a friend in her.”