"Save the queen! They will murder her!" [Varicourt's last words.—
See "Memoires de Madame de Campan," vol. ii., p. 77. ]
Madame de Campan hastily closed the door, drew the great bolt, and then sprang through the antechamber into the waiting-room, and bolted its door too. Then, after she had done that—after she had raised this double wall between the sleeping queen and the raging mob—she sank upon her knees like one who was utterly crushed, and raised her folded hands to heaven.
"Have mercy on his soul, O God! take him graciously to heaven!" whispered she, with trembling lips.
"For whom are you praying?" asked the two women, in low voices, hurrying up to her. "Who is dead?"
"Mr. Varicourt," answered Campan, with a sigh. "I heard his death- cry, as I was bolting the door of the antechamber. But we cannot stop to weep and lament. We must save the queen!"
And she sprang up from her knees, flew through the room, and opened the door leading to the queen's chamber.
At that moment a fearful crash was heard, then a loud shout of triumph in the outer antechamber.
"The queen! We want the heart of the queen!"
"They have broken down the door of the antechamber—they are in the waiting-room!" whispered Campan. "There is no time to be lost. Come, friends, come!"
And she hastened to the bed of the queen, who was still lying in that heavy, unrefreshing sleep which usually follows exhaustion and intense excitement.