"I would rather it were simply the reward of your love," replied Marie Antoinette with melancholy. "But let that pass! you ardently desire this great deed of the rescue of the Royal Family to be performed by you?"
"I await but your consent to set aside my life to it."
"I understand it, my dear one," said the sovereign: "your dedication ought to be free from all alien sentiment, and material affection. It is impossible that my husband and our children should be saved by a hand which would not dare to be stretched out towards them if they slipped on the road we are to travel in company. I place their lives and mine in your custody, as to a brother: but you will feel some pity for me?"
"Pity?"
"You cannot wish that in one of those crises when one needs all courage, patience and coolness, a mad idea of mine—for in the night one may see the specters which would not frighten in the day—you cannot wish that all should fail because I had not your promise that you loved me?"
"Lady," interrupted Charny, "above all I aim at your Majesty's bliss: that of France; the glory of achieving the task I have begun; and I confess that I am sorry the sacrifice I make is so slight; but I swear not to see the Countess of Charny without your Majesty's permission."
Coldly and respectfully saluting the monarch's consort, he retired without her trying to detain him, so chilled was she by his tone.
Hardly had he shut the door after him, than she wrung her hands and ruefully moaned:
"Oh, rather that he made the vow not to see me, but loved me as he loves her!"