He sighed and hid his face in his hands.
As the news of Favras’ arrest had circulated over the palace in a few seconds, Count Provence went to his brother. His advice was that Favras should be repudiated and the King take the oath to the Constitution.
“But how can I swear fidelity to an incomplete Constitution?”
“The more easily,” replied the schemer, with his false squint which came from the darkest sinuosities of his soul.
“I will,” said the King: “this does not prevent my writing to Marquis Bouille that our plan is postponed. This will give Charny time to regulate the route.”
For his part, Provence acted on part of his own suggestion: he repudiated Favras and received the thanks of the Assembly.
Favras was left alone save for Cagliostro who perhaps felt a little remorse that he had let the bravest in the conspiracy go so far in a mission which he had foredoomed to failure. But Favras would not accept rescue and met his death by hanging with unblemished courage and honor.
The King took the oath, as he had promised his brother, to the Constitution, yet in embryo. If he loved it so dearly already, what would he do when it was in shape?
The ten days following were days of rejoicing; joy in the Assembly; calm in Paris; altars built all over the town for passers to take oath after the royal precedent.
The Assembly commanded a Te Deum to be chanted in the Cathedral, where all gathered to renew the oath in solemnity.