Antoine, and Charonne
all meet in one great open space, which the Prince occupied, heaping
up his baggage behind him, and barricading the three streets--M. de
Nemours guarded one, Vallon and Tavannes the other two. The Prince,
with the Duke of la Rochefoucauld and fifty more brave gentlemen,
waited ready to carry succour wherever it should be needed. Within,
the Bastille frowned over all.
We were waiting in the utmost anxiety. A message came to
Mademoiselle, at the Louvre, from the Prince, entreating her not to
abandon him, or he would be crushed between the royal forces and the
walls of Paris. Monsieur had, for a week, professed to be ill, but,
on driving through the streets, lined with anxious people, and coming
to the Luxembourg, we found him on the steps.
'I thought you were in bed,' said his daughter.
'I am not ill enough to be there,' he answered; 'but I am not well
enough to go out.'
Mademoiselle entreated him, in her vehement way, either to mount his
horse and go to help M. le Prince, or at least to go to bed and act
the invalid for very shame; but he stood irresolute, whistling, and
tapping on the window, too anxious to undress, and too timid to go
out. Annora would have been ready to beat him. I think his daughter
longed to do so. She tried frightening him.
'Unless you have a treaty from the Court in your pocket I cannot
think how you can be so quiet. Pray, have you undertaken to
sacrifice M.
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