All of a sudden, I saw a stream of blood running down M. de Malden’s cheek.
Being in the circle, I drew him, with a vigorous effort, towards me, crying, “Peace! peace! I am the friend of M. Drouet.”
Five hundred voices shouted, “Long live Drouet! Long live Guillaume!”
I drew M. de Malden under the arch of the Grand Pavilion, but he would proceed no farther until assured of the safety of the King and Queen.
During this time, in the midst of the most terrible murmurs, they saved M. de Valory and M. de Moustier.
Like M. de Malden, M. de Valory was wounded; but also like M. de Malden, his wound was but slight.
At this moment, the Queen cried, in a suffocating voice, “Help! help!”
In getting out of the carriage, she found herself in the arms of two men, who regarded her with looks of mortal enmity, and at the same time held her fast.
These two men were M. de Aguillon and M. de Noailles. The Queen seemed likely to faint with terror. Both said to her, “Fear nothing, madame; we protect you.”
At the peril of their lives, they conducted her to her room. There she was seized with agony. She called the Dauphin—she looked for the Dauphin, but no Dauphin was there.