“The Jacobins would have forced an entrance for them; but more moderate men strove to quiet the mob. Twelve women were selected from the crowd, deputed to lay their grievances before the king. “Count Mirabeau insisted that I should go with these women and speak for them, because of my youth and innocence, he said; because of my father’s wrongs, the women cried out. My mother commanded me and I went. “These women, so audacious among the enemies of the king, trembled to approach him. With his mild, earnest eyes upon them—they were struck dumb. That was perhaps why a young girl, who had no evil purpose to conceal, was selected when these people were called upon to test their courage. “We went. Out of the bosom of that seething mob, we entered the grand stillness of the palace. King Louis was ready to receive us. The deputation of women crowded into the saloon, sullen and dumb; the presence of that good man appalled them. They pushed me forward, whispering that I had a sweet voice and persuasive ways. I approached the king with reverence; my friend had died for him, I, too, could have died for him then and there. I longed to tell him so; longed to fall down at his feet and embrace his knees, imploring of him only one thing—bread for the hungry people in exchange for my father’s sufferings. “The king recognized me, and a look of trouble came into his benign face. He held out his hand, saying in a low voice which was heard only by myself, “‘Poor child, it was not the king who withheld your father from you.’ “I forgot all that the women had said to me; one cry arose to my lips—bread! bread! With that cry I fainted and fell at the king’s feet. He lifted me up with many kind words, which I heard as if they came back to me in a dream. Then I whispered, ‘Sire, my father never blamed you, neither do I. I came to ask bread for these poor, starving people, in his name!’ “The king listened and understood all I wished to say. When I looked up, his eyes were full of tears. He kissed me here upon the cheek. No man on this earth shall ever take that kiss from my face—it was the consecration of a vow that I made then and there.” The old prisoner became greatly excited as he listened; his eyes kindled, his lips began to quiver, and he spoke with energy. “It was this man! It was the daughter of my old mistress, the Empress of Austria, they would have assaulted through me. Listen, little one. “I have seen the daughter of my old mistress, Maria Theresa.” “The Queen of France, do you mean that?” said Marguerite astonished. “Yes, the Queen of France. Some one told me that she wore my Egyptian ring on her finger. That ring holds my soul, my brain—your destiny. To her it is a curse, to me everything. I went in search of it. You all thought I was lost. No, no, I was waiting and watching for her to come forth from her palace.