The door near the Flora restaurant had been burst through by the mob, and they rushed in, knowing that the king was going to the Assembly.
The leader of the band carried a head on a pole as the ensign.
The Swiss captain ordered a halt and called his men to get their guns ready.
"My Lord Charny," said the queen, "if you see me on the point of falling into those ruffians' hands, you will kill me, will you not?"
"I can not promise you that, for I shall be dead before they touch you."
"Bless us," said the king; "this is the head of our poor Colonel Mandat. I know it again."
The band of assassins did not dare to come too near, but they overwhelmed the royal pair with insults. Five or six shots were fired, and two Swiss fell—one dead.
"Do not fire," said Charny; "or not one of us will reach the House alive."
"That is so," observed the captain; "carry arms."
The soldiers shouldered their guns and all continued crossing diagonally. The first heats of the year had yellowed the chestnut-trees, and dry leaves were strewing the earth. The little prince found some sport in heaping them up with his foot and kicking them on his sister's.