When the first fires of this fatal day were kindling in the sky, Marie Antoinette experienced a profound emotion. Looking with melancholy at the horizon which began to lighten: "Sister," said she to Madame Elisabeth, "come and see the sun rise." It was the sun that was to illumine the death-struggle of royalty. Sinister omen! the sun was red as blood. {284} XXVIII. THE MORNING OF AUGUST TENTH. The fatal day began. It was five o'clock in the morning. The Queen made her children rise, lest the swords of the insurgents should surprise them in their beds. The Dauphin, unaccustomed to being called so early, stared with surprise at the spectacle presented by the court and garden. "Mamma," said he, "why should any one harm papa? He is so good!" Then, turning to a little girl who was his usual companion in his games, he addressed her these words, which prove how well, in spite of his age, he knew the peril he was in: "Here, Josephine, take this lock of my hair, and promise to wear it as long as I am in danger." Led by their chief, Marshal de Mailly, an old man of eighty-six, the two hundred noblemen, who had assembled in the Gallery of Diana, passed in review before the royal family with those of the National Guards who were royalists. "Sire," exclaimed the old marshal, bending his knee, "here are your faithful nobles who have hastened to re-establish Your Majesty on the throne of your ancestors."--"For this once," responded Louis XVI., "I consent that {285} my friends should defend me; we will perish or save ourselves together." The last defenders of the throne shed tears of fidelity and tenderness. They kneeled before Marie Antoinette, and entreated the honor of kissing her hand. Never had the Queen appeared more gracious and majestic. The National Guards, enchanted, loaded their arms with transport. The Queen seized the Dauphin in her arms and held him above their heads like a living standard. The young men shouted: "Long live the Kings of our fathers!" And the old men cried: "Long live the King of our children!" At the gates of the Tuileries the tide was rising. Vanguards of the insurrection, the Marseillais arrived unhindered. The municipality had succeeded in removing the cannons which were to have prevented approach by way of the Pont-Neuf and the Pont-Royal. Mandat was no longer there to issue orders. Nothing impeded the march of the faubourgs.