Condition of the royal family.--Ignominiously insulted.--The royal family surrounded by spies.--The queen refuses to escape.--Excuse for the emigrants.--Their plans.--Profligate women.--Their talk with the queen.--Bravos of the women.--Plan for the queen's escape.--Letter from the queen.--Her employments.--The king's unwillingness to flee.--Execution of the Marquis of Favras.--Imprudence of some of the queen's friends.--Her embarrassment.--The queen weeps.--Present to Madame Favras.--The king continues inactive.--Plan of Count d'Inisdal.--Indecision of the king.--The queen's disappointment.--Displeasure of Count d'Inisdal.--An alarm.--Attempts to assassinate the queen.--Removal to St. Cloud.--Another plan for flight.--It is abandoned.--Exhibitions of attachment.--Emotions of the queen.--The assassin in the garden.--Midnight interviews.--Deliberations of the king's friends.--Taunting gift.--The king's aunts leave France.--They are arrested.--Exciting debate.--The ladies permitted to depart.--The royal family start for St. Cloud.--They are compelled to return.--Preparations for flight.--Imprudence of the king and queen.--Garments for the children.--The queen's diamonds and jewels.--The queen's dressing-case.--The faithful Leonard. The king and queen now found themselves in the gorgeous apartments of the Tuileries, surrounded with all the mockery of external homage, but incessantly exposed to the most ignominious insults, and guarded with sleepless vigilance from the possibility of escape. The name of the queen was the watchword of popular execration and rage. In the pride of her lofty spirit, she spurned all apologies, explanations, or attempts at conciliation. Inclosing herself in the recesses of her palace, she heard with terror and resentment, but with an unyielding soul, the daily acts of violence perpetrated against royalty and all of its friends. All her trusty servants were removed, and spies in their stead occupied her parlors and her chambers. Trembling far more for her husband and her children than for herself, every noise in the streets aroused her apprehensions of a new insurrection. And thus, for nearly two years of melancholy days and sorrowful nights, the very nobleness of her nature, glowing with heroic love, magnified her anguish. The terror of the times had driven nearly all the nobility from the realm. The court was forsaken, or attended only by the detested few who were forced as ministers upon the royal family by the implacable populace. Every word and every action of Maria Antoinette were watched, and reported by the spies who surrounded her in the guise of servants. To obtain a private interview with any of her few remaining friends, or even with her husband, it was necessary to avail herself of private stair-cases, and dark corridors, and the disguise of night. The queen regretted extremely that the nobles, and others friendly to royalty, should, in these hours of gathering danger, have fled from France.