"Sire," said Charny, "shut yourself up with the Queen in the most remote room. Fasten all the doors after you. At each door let two of us stand. I ask to be the last and guard the last. I warrant we shall keep them off for two hours: they take forty minutes full to get through this."
The King hesitated; it seemed so shameful to step from room to room, closing doors on brave men left to die for him. He would not have drawn back but for the Queen. If she had not had her children with her she would have stayed beside him.
But, alas! king or subject, all have a flaw in the iron heart, through which pierces terror when boldness elopes.
The King was about to give the order to retreat when the arms were suddenly retracted, the spears and bayonets disappeared and the shouts and thwarts were silenced. In the instant of stillness all waited with parted lips, listening ears and held breath.
The tramp of regular troops was heard.
"The National Guard!" shouted Charny.
"My Lord Charny!" bellowed a hearty voice on the other side of the door.
"Farmer Billet," cried Charny as a well-known face showed itself. "Is it you, my friend?"
"Yes; my lord. Where is the King, and the Queen?"
"Here, safe and sound."