It seems that few words were spoken during that terrible time. The queen clung to him somewhat. He mastered himself well. Altogether these three and the two children were assembled for nearly two hours. A little before ten he himself determined that the agony must end. Marie Antoinette, as was her custom under stress, broke out into passionate protestation. Then she checked herself and admitted doom. But she implored him that they should see him again, and he said to her, perhaps unwisely, that he would see her before he left for his passing. He would see her in the morning at the hour when he was summoned to go. She would have it earlier still. [Illustration: KING LOUIS TAKING LEAVE OF HIS FAMILY IN THE TOWER OF THE TEMPLE _To face p. 211_ ] He said it should be earlier by half an hour. She made him promise solemnly enough, and he promised her. Ten o’clock had struck, and the chimes were sounding over Paris and from the great clock of the Temple before she unloosed her hands. He stood. The women passed out with weak knees (it is said that the girl was half fainting). The oaken door shut behind them, and the iron door outside it clanged to. He heard their soft steps, slow and creaking, mounting the winding stone stairs without. Then they were lost, and he was in silence. He prayed a moment and then lay down to sleep. He slept deeply till five in the morning. The men bringing in the vessels for a Mass awoke him. He rose and prayed. In the full darkness, before it was yet six o’clock, the queen heard a step approaching up the stairs. It could not be the king. She watched from above her candle. It was a messenger come for books of devotion which the king required at his mass and communion. Then she heard the chimes of seven, and the day was breaking; upon her window the falling mist had made a blur, and it was very cold. She waited on until eight o’clock. There was no sound. Her agony was unrelieved. Yet another hour, and she heard steps and the coming and going of many men upon the stone stairs below. No one came up. The sounds sank away. The great door that gave into the courtyard was heard creaking upon its hinges, there was the pawing of horses upon the stones, and the cries of command to the escort, a certain confused noise from the crowd outside the walls. The tower was empty. She had not seen the king. The king had passed through the prison door. He had gone on foot, with the priest by his side, across the little court to the high wall which surrounded the tower. The guards followed him. Just before he came to the barrier he turned back to look at the prison. He made a slight gesture as of constraint, and firmly turned again toward the gate.