"He loveth well who chasteneth soundly," replied the noble.
"Are you of this thinking, prince?" she asked of Lambesq. "The populace have committed assassinations——"
"Which they call retaliation," observed a sweet, fresh voice which made the Queen turn.
"Yes, but that is where their error lies, my dear Lamballe, so we shall be indulgent."
"But," resumed the princess with her bland voice, "before one talks of punishment one ought to be sure of winning the victory, methinks."
A general outcry rose against this piece of good sense from the noble lips.
"Not vanquish—with the Swiss troops—and the Germans—and the Lifeguards?"
"Do you doubt the army and the nobility?" exclaimed a young man in Bercheny Hussian uniform, "have we deserved such a slur? Bear in mind, royal lady, that the King can put in battle array forty thousand men, throw them into Paris by the four sides and destroy the town. Forty thousand proven soldiers are worth half a million of Parisian rioters."
The young lieutenant, emboldened to be the mouthpiece of his brother officers, stopped short on seeing how far his enthusiasm had carried him. But the Queen had caught enough to feel the scope of his outburst.