The heat was tremendous. The carriage, the nearer it approached Paris, appeared to be entering the mouth of a furnace.
The Queen, whom nothing hitherto had conquered, was beaten by the heat. Twice or thrice she cried, “I suffocate!”
At Bourget, the King asked for wine.
Broken down by fatigue, Madame Elizabeth slept.
The change of places had brought Pétion close by her. The face of the future Mayor of Paris had a remarkable expression of joy. The Queen, who cared not for sleeping herself, shook her by the arm in order to awaken her.
“Let her alone,” cried Pétion. “Nature must take its course.”
They passed the barrier, and entered into the midst of a moving and agitated people.
From time to time the crowd gave a tremendous yell. The King, trying to show sang-froid began, apparently, to read.
“Suppose one were to applaud the King!”
“He shall be scourged!”