“What, Mdlle. Sophie!”
She threw herself, weeping, on to my neck.
“Each one has his destiny, my good Réné,” said she. “Mine is to suffer. I shall accomplish it.”
“Shall I always be your brother?” asked I, weeping myself.
“Ah, yes! And if ever I have need of you, I will show you that I am your sister, by coming to you for assistance.”
“Heaven guard you, Mdlle. Sophie,” cried I, withdrawing myself from her embrace.
“And you, also—heaven bless you, Réné!”
And I heard the sobs which followed these words even as far as the door which opened into the street.
I took my place at the door of the King’s carriage, making a signal to MM. Drouet and Guillaume, who were on horseback, with the intention of preceding the carriages, in order to make way for, and protect them.
What was M. de Bouillé doing at this time? We will tell you in the following chapter.