A royal progress was made in the court-yard of the Tuileries, even in the palace-garden beyond. At first received with faint applause, the cries of hate soon overwhelmed the King, and it was with difficulty he gained the palace alone.
The tocsin had now been calling to arms through many hours.
Meanwhile, Danton, the man of blood, was maddening the people.
“To arms!” he cried. “Do you not hear the call?”
The infuriated people were now upon the palace.
They attempted once more to burst the doors, while the artillerymen refused to fire upon the insurgents.
And now the fatal, but inevitable, mistake was made.
“Sire,” cried Rœderer to the King, “time presses. It is no longer entreaty we use, and only one means is left us. We ask your permission to use violence towards you; and, by force, to place you under the safety of the National Assembly.”
The King still did not wish to leave the palace. He turned to the Queen.
“Let us go.”