One naturally asks how I became acquainted with all this. I have already said that, on leaving Varennes, I had taken a place on the back of the carriage of the King. Happily, I had managed to retain my position, despite the heat, the fatigue, and the dust. Twice only, for a few minutes, had I quitted my location; firstly, to try and assist M. de Dampierre, and, secondly, to procure the water for Madame Elizabeth and the Dauphin. Both times, on my return, I recovered my place. The glass windows of the berlin were let down on account of the heat, and the royal family, not speaking in very low voices, I managed to hear pretty well all that was said. This explanation given, I will continue my story, with the history of the rudeness of Pétion, and the courtesy of Barnave. There was placed between Madame Elizabeth and Madame Royale, a bottle of lemonade and a glass. Pétion was thirsty, and felt inclined to drink. He took the glass, and handed it to Madame Elizabeth, who took up the lemonade, and filled it. “Enough!” said Pétion, lifting his glass as he would have done at a cabaret. The Queen’s eyes flashed with anger. The Dauphin, with the impatience of a youngster, shifted in his seat; Pétion seized him, and imprisoned him between his legs. The Queen said nothing, but again darted a look of menace at Pétion; who, remembering that it might be politic to gain the favor of the King, caressed the Dauphin’s white locks with apparent affection. The Dauphin made a grimace expressive of grief. The Queen snatched him from Pétion’s legs. Barnave, smiling, immediately opened his arms to him. The boy seemed willing, and was, therefore, soon installed on Barnave’s knees. His instinct shewed him that he would find in Barnave a protector. Playing with a button on the coat of the representative, he discovered that a device was inscribed upon it, and, after many efforts, succeeded in reading it. The device was, “Live free, or die.” The Queen sighed, and regarded Barnave, her eyes filled with tears. Barnave’s heart smote him. This was his position. He followed his own individual romance in the midst of a royal and terrible history, when suddenly a noise was heard some paces behind the royal carriage. The cries and tumult drew Barnave from the magic circle which surrounded him. A venerable ecclesiastic approached the carriage, much in the same manner as M. de Dampierre had done, and uplifted his hands and blessed the royal martyr. The mob, unsatiated by one murder, rushed upon the priest, and drew him away, to slaughter him in the ditch by the roadside. I was on the opposite side of the carriage to where this affair was taking place. “M. Barnave, M. Barnave!” cried I; “help, help!” At the same moment, M. Barnave, putting his head out of the window, saw what was taking place.