Madame de Campan thought of this, as she cast her glance over this
antechamber which adjoined the Swiss hall, and this thought filled
her with horror.
Varicourt had not yet come in; nothing disturbed the silence around
her, except the dreadful shouting and singing outside of the palace.
"Let us go back into the waiting-room," whispered her companions,
"it is too gloomy here. Only hear how they shout and laugh! O God,
it is a fearful night!"
"Yes, a fearful night," sighed Madame de Campan, "and the day that
follows it may be yet more fearful. But we must not lose our
courage. All depends upon our having decision, upon our defying
danger, and defending our mistress. And see, there comes Mr.
Varicourt," she continued, earnestly, as the door quickly opened,
and an officer of the Swiss guard came in with great haste.
"Tell us, my friend, what news do you bring us?"
"Bad news," sighed Varicourt. "The crowd is increasing every moment.
New columns have arrived from Paris, and not only the common people,
but the speakers and agitators are here. Everywhere are groups
listening to the dreadful speeches which urge on to regicide and
revolution. It is a dreadful, horrible night. Treachery, hatred,
wickedness around the palace, and cowardice and desertion pass out
from the palace to them, and open the doors.
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