Two very distinct groups formed around the two sovereigns. The king's was cold and grave, and was composed of counselors who appeared of Roederer's opinion. The queen's was ardent, numerous, and enthusiastic young military men, who waved their hats, flourished their swords, raised their hands to the dauphin, kissed the hem of the queen's robe, and swore to die for both of them.
Marie Antoinette found some hope in this enthusiasm.
The king's party melted into the queen's, and with his usual impassibility, the monarch found himself the center of the two commingled. His unconcern might be courage.
The queen snatched a pair of pistols from Colonel Maillardet.
"Come, sire," she cried; "this is the time for you to show yourself and die in the midst of your friends!"
This action had carried enthusiasm to its height, and everybody waited for the king's reply, with parted lips and breath held in suspense.
A young, brave, and handsome king, who had sprung forward with blazing eye and quivering lip, to rush with the pistols in hand into the thick of the fight, might have recalled fortune to his crown.
They waited and they hoped.
Taking the pistols from the queen's hands, the king returned them to the owner.
"Monsieur Roederer," he said, "you were observing that I had better go over to the House?"