It was fired by a peasant, mounted on a horse belonging to one of the hussars, which he had captured the evening before. It was easy to see that M. de Dampierre was wounded. He fell backwards on the croup of his horse, which reared. Then, in a moment, with the rapidity of lightning, on the little bridge of St. Catherine, by the borders of the ditch, the waters of which pass under the bridge, a horrible scene took place, which I saw in all its dreadful details, but was unable to oppose. The peasant who had fired the shot, followed by about forty men, caught up the Comte de Haus, dealt him a blow with his sabre, and then unhorsed him. I saw no more. I heard the report of about twenty guns, into the suffocating smoke of which I dashed. They were firing at M. de Dampierre. I arrived too late. Had I reached the mob sooner, it would have been to have died with him, for I could not have saved him. His body was riddled with bullets, and gashed with bayonets; his face, scratched by the peasants’ hob-nailed boots, was unrecognisable. His watch was dashed to pieces by a ball which had penetrated his fob. There was nothing to be done. I threw my gun over my shoulder, and, with tears in my eyes and sweat on my brow, I rejoined my rank. The royal berlin continued its route slowly and sorrowfully under a sweltering sun, along that unbending route which crosses like a pencil line that sorrowful portion of France called the Paltry Land. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CRITICS CRITICISED. Not only does it seem to me sufficient to relate what I have seen; I desire also, as an eye-witness, to rectify history and to combat, on sure grounds, the mistake of historians. In order to give a slight idea of the intense excitement of Republican France against the King, and more particularly against the Queen, I quote the following letter, the original of which was sent by the citizens of Counien to the municipal officers of Varennes:— “27th of June, 2nd year of Liberty. “GENTLEMEN,— “Allow the patriotic women of the State, who have the honor of being members of the Club of the Society of the Friends of the Constitution, to present to you their best congratulations at the capture in your city of the execrable traitors, Citizen and Citizeness Capet, whose traitorous machinations have so long tried to crush freedom in France. Our only prayer is that both may speedily be humiliated. Vive la France! Vive la Liberté! A bas les Capets! “For the Citizenesses of Counien, (Signed) “Citoyenne Marie Benoit. “To the Municipal Officers of Varennes.” After this specimen of the feeling of the women of France can it be wondered that the fate of the King and Queen seemed assured. Either they must die, or France must sink lower than ever. This, of course, was only my opinion; but events have proved whether I was right or wrong. CHAPTER XXXV. IS LOVE ETERNAL?