"He is in there," said the guardsman, pointing to the palace.
"Can one see him?" demanded a rough fellow, dashing a flambeau close to the guardsman's face.
Destouches shrugged his shoulders meaningly. "Friend," he said, "I have just seen his little Majesty asleep. Why should not you?"
"The King! the King! We must see the King!" shout the swaying crowd. There is a dash against the trellised gates of the palace, a dash and then a mighty crash, and, as the outer gate falls before the people's assault, the great alarm bell of the palace booms out its note of danger. Then guards and gentlemen press hastily toward the royal apartments in defence of the queen and her sons, while ladies, and pages, and servants scatter and hide in terror.
But Anne, Queen Regent of France, was as brave as she was shrewd.
"What is the people's wish?" she demanded, as the Duc de Beaufort entered her apartment.
"To see his Majesty with their own eyes, they say," was the reply.
"But can they not trust their queen, my lord?" she asked.
"Their queen, your Highness? Yes. But not Mazarin," said the blunt duke.
"Ho, there, d'Aumont," said the queen to the captain of the palace guard, "bid that the portals be opened at once! Draw off your guard. And you, my lords, stand aside; we will show the king to our good people of Paris and defeat the plots of our enemies. Bid the people enter."