"No, your majesty."
"No," cried the queen, breathing a breath of relief. "I thank you, air. You see that you accused Fate falsely, for you have brought me good tidings. And yet again I thank you, for, I remember, I have much to thank you for. It was you who raised your voice in the National Assembly, and voted for the inviolability of the queen. It was not your fault, and believe me not mine either, that your voice was alone, that no one joined you. The king has been declared inviolable, but not the queen, and now I am to be attacked, am I not? Tell me what is it? Why does my faithful Campan send you to me?"
"Your majesty, to conjure you to come to Versailles."
"What has happened there?"
"Nothing as yet, your majesty, but—I was early this morning in Paris, and what I saw there determined me to come hither at once, to bring the news and warn your majesty."
"What is it? Why do you hesitate? Speak out freely."
"Your majesty, all Paris is in motion, all Paris is marching upon
Versailles!"
"What do you mean by that?" asked Marie Antoinette, passionately.
"What does Paris want? Does it mean to threaten the National
Assembly? Explain yourself, for you see I do not understand you."
"Your majesty, the people of Paris hunger. The bakers have made no bread, for they assert that there is no more meal. The enemies of the realm have taken advantage of the excitement to stir up the masses and even the women. The people are hungry; the people are coming to Versailles to ask the king for bread. Ten thousand women are on the road to Versailles, accompanied by armed bodies of men."
"Let us hasten, sir, I must go to my children," said the queen, and with quick steps she went forward. Not a glance back, not a word of farewell to the loved plantation of Trianon, and yet it is the last time that Marie Antoinette is to look upon it. She will never return hither, she turns her back forever upon Trianon.