"Sir," interrupted the queen, impatiently, "Whom do you mean by 'they?' Of whom are you speaking in such tones of respect?"
"Madame, I am speaking of the people, with whom I came to an understanding, and who promised me to keep the peace, and to respect the slumbers of your majesty."
"You are not speaking of the people, but of the rebels, the agitators," cried Marie Antoinette, with flashing eyes. "You speak of high traitors, who break violently into the palace of the king; of murderers, who have destroyed two of our faithful subjects. Sir, it is of such crime that you speak with respect; it is with such a rabble that you have dealt, instead of ordering your soldiers to cut them down."
"Madame," said Lafayette, turning pale, "had I attempted to do that, your majesty would not have found refuge in this chamber. For the anger of the mob is like the lightning and thunder of the tempest, it heeds neither door nor bolt, and if it has once broken loose, nothing can restrain or stop it."
"Oh," cried the queen, with a mocking laugh, "it is plain that Mr. Lafayette has been pursuing his studies in America, at the university of revolutions. He speaks of the people with a deference as if it were another majesty to bow to."
"And in that Lafayette is right," said the king, rising and approaching them. "Hear the yell, madame! it sounds like the roaring of lions, and you know, Marie, that the lion is called the king of beasts. Tell us, general, what does the lion want, and what does his roaring mean?"
"Sire, the enemies of the royal family, the agitators and rebels, who have within these last hours come from Paris, have urged on the people afresh, and kindled them with senseless calumnies. They have persuaded the people that your majesty has summoned hither the regiments from all the neighboring stations; that you are collecting an army to put yourself at its head and march against Paris."
Louis cast a significant look at his wife, which was answered with a proud toss of her head.
"I have sought in vain," continued Lafayette, "to make the poor, misguided men conscious of the impossibility of such a plan."
"Yet, sir," broke in Marie Antoinette, fiercely, "the execution of this plan would save the crown from dishonor and humiliation!"