A general shout of applause followed the words of the queen; the
National Guards covered her hands with kisses, and even the women
were touched.
"How courageous the Austrian is!" cried one. "How handsome the
prince is!" cried another, and all pressed up to get a nearer view
of the dauphin, and a smile or a look from him.
The great eyes of Santerre remained fixed upon the queen, and
resting both arms upon the table he leaned over to her until his
mouth was close by her ear.
"Madame," he whispered, "you have very unskilful friends; I know
people who would serve you better, who--"
But as if ashamed of this touch of sympathy, he stopped, sprang back
from the table, and with a thundering voice, commanded all present
to march out and leave the palace.
They obeyed his command, filed out in military order past the table,
behind which stood the queen with her children and her faithful
friends.
A rare procession, a rare army, consisting of men armed with pikes,
hatchets, and spades, of women brandishing knives and scissors in
their hands, and all directing their countenances, before hyena-like
and scornful, but now subdued and sympathetic, to the queen, who
with calm eye and gentle look responded to the salutations of the
retreating crowd with a friendly nod.
In the mean while the long-delayed help had reached the king: the
National Guards had overcome the raging multitude, and gained
possession of the great reception-room where Louis was.
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