“M. Barnave, M. Barnave!” cried I; “help, help!”
At the same moment, M. Barnave, putting his head out of the window, saw what was taking place.
He placed the Dauphin in the arms of his aunt, and opened the carriage door with such violence and rapidity, that he almost fell out; in fact, he would have fallen, had not Madame Elizabeth caught and retained him by his coat-tails.
“Oh, Frenchmen!” cried he; “ye are a nation of brave men—would ye become a horde of assassins?”
At this eloquent appeal, the people let go the priest, who escaped, protected by the outspread arms and eloquent gestures of Barnave.
The door was again shut, Barnave retook his place, and the Queen said to him, “I thank you, M. Barnave.”
He bowed his head.
Before the arrival of the commissaires, the King had eaten alone with his family; but now, after consulting the Queen, he invited them to share his repast.
Pétion accepted the invitation; Latour-Maubourg and Barnave declined.