'I see,' said the queen, sharply, raising her head, and showing a face crimson with anger. 'You would have the king not arbitrate, but give in his adhesion to one side or the other.' 'Your majesty has understood me. He _must_ do that; he cannot hesitate; he must choose his side, with the people or with the nobles. He must yield at once and become nothing, or he must strike a _coup d'état_ and make himself master of the field.' 'Yes,' said the queen, vehemently; 'I am satisfied, it must be so.' 'It is probable that a bold stroke may establish the position of the throne, which has been somewhat shaken.' 'It shall be done,' the queen said, passionately; 'never, never shall it be said of Louis XVI that he flung his crown into the dirt. In a weak moment he yielded to that banking fellow Necker, and he surrendered a part of his supreme, absolute authority to a convocation of the people, and already has he learned to rue it. Well says the Gospel, "give not that which is holy to the dogs;" and what more holy than the royal prerogative,--"lest they trample them under their feet and turn again and rend you."' Marie Antoinette was thoroughly roused, her pride was stung; she walked up and down the terrace with heaving bosom, flushed face, and sparkling eye, turning every moment to the bishop to utter some caustic remark. 'When Mob is king, my Lord, what will become of us, the anointed of God? We shall have to fly the country, and who will take us in?' 'If such a dire event were to happen,' answered the prelate, obsequiously, 'our ancestral castle of Lara should be at your majesty's disposal.' If the bishop had seen the expression of contempt which came over the queen's face at his absurd remark, he would have instantly withdrawn. He saw her turn abruptly from him and converse with her friend, but he was too self-sufficient to suppose for a moment that he had offended her. Madame Elizabeth came up, leading Gabrielle by the hand. 'I cannot attend to her story now,' said the queen. 'But it really is touching, and it may interest you,' said the sister of Louis; 'do let her tell it to you in full,--it is quite a romance.' The queen tossed her head. Madame Elizabeth saw that something was wrong, but what it was she did not know. 'Berthier!' said the queen; 'the wife of Berthier in the Bastille, that is it. Monseigneur,' her lips curled; 'this little idiot has come from--what was the name of the place?' 'Bernay,' answered Elizabeth. 'Has come all the way from Bernay; and what do you think is her object? She has read the fable of the mouse and the netted lion, and she thinks she can get the wife of the Intendant of Paris out of the Bastille.' 'I venture to suggest that she should be driven out of your majesty's presence,' said the bishop; 'this is too audacious, too insolent to be tolerated. We are beginning to discover that the people are utterly lost to the sense of decency and modesty. Let her be turned out.'