"Impossible—give it to me," and she held out her hand for the fatal message.
In the meantime Romeuf's companion was encouraging the National Guards and patriots of Varennes with a smile.
Though they had heard the tenor of the missive the Queen's expression of "Impossible!" had startled them.
"Read, Madam, and if still you doubt," said the King with bitterness; "it is written and signed by the Speaker of the House."
"What man dares write and sign such impudence?"
"A peer of the realm—the Marquis of Beauharnais."
Is it not a strange thing, which proves how events are mysteriously linked together, that the decree stopping Louis in his flight should bear a name, obscure up to then, yet about to be attached in a brilliant manner with the history of the commencement of the 19th Century?
The Queen read the paper, frowning. The King took it to re-peruse it and then tossed it aside so carelessly that it fell on the sleeping prince and princess's couch. At this, the Queen, incapable of self-constraint any longer, rose quickly with an angry roar, and seizing the paper, crushed it up in her grip before throwing it afar, with the words:
"Be careful, my lord—I would not have such a filthy rag sully my children."
A deafening clamor arose from the next room, and the Guards made a movement to rush in upon the illustrious fugitives. Lafayette's aid let a cry of apprehension escape him. His companion uttered one of wrath.