"You are right, Lafayette," said the king, who looked calmly at this black sea of human life—"you are right, this is the people; there are here probably twenty thousand men, and Heaven defend me from regarding all as criminals and rabble! I believe—"
A tremendous shout now filled the air. The king had been seen, some one had noticed him at the open window, and now all heads and all looks were directed to this window, and twenty thousand voices cried, "Long live the king! Long live the king!"
Louis turned with a proud, happy look to the gentlemen and ministers who stood near him, Marie Antoinette having withdrawn to the farthest corner of the room, where, throwing her arms around both of the children, and drawing them to her bosom, she had sunk into a chair.
"What do you say now, gentlemen?" asked the king.
"Did they not want to make me believe that my good people hate their king, and wish him ill? But when I show myself to them, hear how they shout to greet me!"
"To Paris!" was now the roar of the mob below. "We want the king should go to Paris!"
"What do they say? What do they want?" asked Louis, turning to
Lafayette, who now stood close beside him.
"Sire, they are shouting their wishes to you, that you and the royal family should go to Paris."
"And you, general, what do you say?" asked the king.
"Sire, I have taken the liberty already to say that words and promises are of no more avail to quiet this raving, maddened people, and to make them believe that you have no hostile designs against Paris."