Civil war was sure to break out the moment the court could obtain possession of the person of the king. The pliant nature of the monarch would immediately yield to the influences which surrounded him, and the court, under such circumstances, could find no difficulty in inducing him to sanction any acts of violence to regain their power. But while the king was in Paris, in the hands of the Assembly, he would sanction the decrees of the Assembly, and thus the aristocrats could not wage war against the patriots without at the same time waging war against the king. Foreign monarchies could not be induced to take this step. Thus the retention of the king was peace; his escape, civil war. The court were plotting innumerable plans to effect his escape. La Fayette, at the head of the National Guard, was fully awake to the responsibility of guarding him with the utmost vigilance. The king was apparently left at perfect liberty, but he was continually watched. The queen was exceedingly anxious for flight. The king was ever vacillating, but generally, influenced by such advisers as Mirabeau and La Fayette, inclined to accept the Revolution. He was also haunted with the idea that his cousin, the Duke of Orleans, wished to frighten him into flight, that the Assembly might declare the throne vacant, and place the sceptre in the duke's hand as the sworn friend and supporter of the Revolution. Mirabeau had commenced his career as one of the most ardent advocates of reform, but he now wished to arrest the progress of the revolutionary chariot, as he affirmed that it had passed beyond its proper goal. His course was attributed by some to bribery on the part of the court. His friends say that he was only influenced by his own patriotic intelligence. At St. Cloud there is a retired summer-house, embowered in foliage, at the summit of a hill which crowns the highest part of the park. The queen appointed an interview with Mirabeau at this secluded spot. The statesman of gigantic genius, who seemed to hold in his hand the destinies of France, left Paris on horseback one evening, under pretense of visiting a friend. Avoiding observation, he turned aside into a by-path until he reached a back gate of the park. Here he was met in the dark by a nobleman, who conducted him to the retreat of the queen, who was waiting to receive him. His constitution was already undermined by dissipation and unintermitted labors. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes inflamed, his complexion sallow, and a flabby corpulency announced the ravages of disease; but, notwithstanding all these defects, his genial spirit and courtly bearing made him one of the most fascinating of men.[259]