"What do you say to this, countess?"
"Nothing," and she shook her head with unspeakable discouragement.
"Heaven help us, our dashing Diana is afraid," said the Queen, bending over her, "we want our intrepid Countess Charny here. It seems to me that we need her to cheer us up."
"The countess was going out when the King sent for her," explained an attendant.
Then only did Marie Antoinette perceive the isolation and stillness around her. The recent strange and unheard-of events had hit Versailles hard, making the hardest hearts tender, more by astonishment than fear. The sovereign understood that she must lift up these disheartened spirits.
"As nobody suggests any advice, I shall act on my own impulse," she said: "The people are not wicked but led astray." Everybody drew nearer. "They hate us because they do not know us; let us go up to them."
"To punish," interposed a voice, "for they know we are their masters, and to doubt us is a crime."
"Oh, baron," she said, recognizing Bezenval; "do you come to give us good advice?"
"I have given it."
"The King will punish, but as a kind father does."