“Why did you not go to the church?” sneered the Queen to her husband.
“Because I do not object to lying for a purpose, but I do not mean to perjure myself,” said Louis XVI.
The Queen breathed again for until then she had believed in the monarch’s honesty. She felt empowered by this perfidy to take the same path and it was after giving her hand for Mirabeau to kiss that this new leader for the court party vowed that the monarchy was saved.
Her forehead was swathed in a wet bandage, her eyes were wandering and her face flushed with fever. Amongst the incoherent words, the farmer thought he could distinguish the name of Isidore.
“I see that it is good time that I came home,” he muttered.
He went forth, and was followed by Pitou, but Dr. Raynal detained the latter.
“I want you my lad,” he said, “to help Mother Clement hold the patient while I bleed her for the third time.”
“The third time?” cried Mrs. Billet, awaking from her dulness. “Do you hear that, my man, they bleed her for the third time.”
“Woman, this would not have happened had you looked after your daughter closer,” said the farmer in a stern voice.
He went to his room, from which he had been absent three months while Pitou entered the sick room.