“What are you driving at? that your united thirty millions of rebels should form a universal federation against their King and Queen?”
“Do not deceive yourself: it is not the people who are rebels but the rulers who have rebelled against them. If you go to one of the feasts which the people hold, you will see that they hail a little child on an altar—emblem of the new birth of liberty. Italy, Spain, Ireland, Poland, all the down-trodden look towards this child and hold out their enchained hands, saying: ‘France, we shall be free because of you.’ Madam, if it be still time, take this child and make yourself its mother.”
“You forget that I am the mother of others, and I ought not do as you suggest—disinherit them in favor of a stranger.”
“If thus it be,” replied Gilbert with profound sorrow, “wrap your children up in your royal robe, in the war-cloak of Maria Theresa, and carry them with you far from France; for you spoke the truth in saying that the people will devour you and your offspring with you. But there is no time to lose—make haste!”
“You will not oppose?”
“I will further you in the departure.”
“Nothing could fall more timely,” said the Queen, “for we have a nobleman ready to act in this escape——“
“Do you mean Marquis Favras?” demanded Gilbert, with apprehension.
“Who breathed you his name—who communicated to you his project?”
“Oh, have a care, for a bloody prediction pursued him also.”