It was a kiss which the Dauphin sent them, and a bow from his sister; those white-winged angels hovering over the royal family. Lafayette, with his etat major, passed by the Queen. As soon as she perceived them, she cried out, “M. Lafayette, above all things save my three body-guards; their crime has been but to obey me.” The same cry was uttered by her at Versailles on the 6th of October. Their danger was really great. The carriages passed through the gate of the Tuileries, which was vainly endeavored to be shut after them. They proceeded along the grand promenade of the garden, and halted only at the end of the great terrace which stretched along the front of the palace. It was there that the crowd, greater than ever, awaited them. It was impossible to go farther; they must get out of their carriage. The Assembly was not present, but it had sent twenty deputies. Lafayette cleared a pathway from the terrace to the palace door. He constructed an iron arch with the muskets and bayonets of the National Guard. “M. Barnave,” again cried the Queen, “I ask you to protect my three guards.” The children first descended, and entered the palace without opposition. It was then the turn of the three guards, for whom the Queen had asked protection from M. Lafayette and M. Barnave. Then there came a terrible outcry. I had left my horse at the top of the Champs Elysées, and marched with the grenadiers on foot. At first, they tried to turn me out, but the King said, “Let him alone; he is a friend.” They did leave me alone. M. Pétion gave me a side glance; M. Barnave smiled. The King and Queen looked to see what would happen to the three guards; the King gazed with his usual apathy, the Queen with intense interest. The sabres and pikes of the National Guard waved over them as they shouted, “Death to the traitors!” All of a sudden, I saw a stream of blood running down M. de Malden’s cheek. Being in the circle, I drew him, with a vigorous effort, towards me, crying, “Peace! peace! I am the friend of M. Drouet.” Five hundred voices shouted, “Long live Drouet! Long live Guillaume!” I drew M. de Malden under the arch of the Grand Pavilion, but he would proceed no farther until assured of the safety of the King and Queen. During this time, in the midst of the most terrible murmurs, they saved M. de Valory and M. de Moustier. Like M. de Malden, M. de Valory was wounded; but also like M. de Malden, his wound was but slight. At this moment, the Queen cried, in a suffocating voice, “Help! help!” In getting out of the carriage, she found herself in the arms of two men, who regarded her with looks of mortal enmity, and at the same time held her fast. These two men were M. de Aguillon and M. de Noailles. The Queen seemed likely to faint with terror. Both said to her, “Fear nothing, madame; we protect you.”