Somehow or other we all found ourselves in the court of the Louvre,
strongly lighted by flambeaux, and by the windows of the building.
There stood a row of carriages; Mademoiselle called for hers, but it
was not forthcoming, and M. de Comminges, bowing low, offered her his
own; but another gentleman came up and handed her into the royal one,
where already were the King and Queen, the two Princesses of Conde,
the Prince of Conti, and a lady.
I heard Mademoiselle asserting her right to one of the best seats,
and then declaring that she yielded 'as the young must give place to
the old,' a little cut at the Princess Dowager of Conde. She bade M.
de Fiesque follow with her carriage and properties, and we were left
in the most wonderful confusion in that dark court, the carriages
moving away one after another, the mounted servants carrying torches,
and the guards trampling and clinking behind them; servants,
gentlemen, and ladies running about wildly, some of the women crying
and wringing their hands. Among these was Madame de Fiesque, who was
of a timid nature, and was frightened out of her wits at the notion
of having to follow, whither she did not even know, while I was
equally wild, though I hope I did not make quite so much noise, about
my son.
One of the gentlemen at last came and spoke to us, and told us that
the King and Queen were gone to St. Germain. It had all been
determined upon for some time past (as soon in fact as the Queen knew
that the Prince of Conde would support her, and that the troops were
near enough to be of use), and this night had been chosen because she
could get off more easily in a time of revelry.
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