Chapter II The Night of Varennes[6] Soon after the celebration of the new _régime_, the Hydra of the Revolution, which had been for a short time trodden into the dust, again lifted its poisonous head. Those evil geniuses of France, Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, vied with one another in their efforts to disturb the peace of the country which had been secured with such difficulty, and by calumnies against the King to sow the seeds of hatred and distrust of him among the people. They succeeded only too well. The National Assembly issued an unprecedented order to the effect that the King should not absent himself from Paris for more than twenty-four hours; and if he should leave the kingdom, and not return at the request of the Assembly, he should be deposed. Notwithstanding this order, the King determined on a journey to St. Cloud. At eleven o’clock in the morning he attempted to start, but his carriage was immediately surrounded by a dense throng of people. A troop of mutinous soldiers locked the doors of the palace, and with threats and shouts levelled their bayonets at the breasts of the horses. All Lafayette’s efforts to appease the tumult were in vain, and after two hours of struggle and dispute, during which the King was forced to bear the grossest insults and abuse, he was obliged to return to his apartments. The little Dauphin, who had been eagerly looking forward to the journey and making a thousand plans for his sojourn in St. Cloud, was much grieved over this failure of his hopes. To divert his mind from the disappointment, after he had returned to his room the Abbé Daveaux gave him a volume of “The Children’s Friend,” by Berquin,[7] to look at. The Prince opened it at random, and cried in astonishment: “Just see, M. Abbé! what a curious thing! Look at this title, ‘The Little Captive’! How strange!” The child had foretold only too well in applying the name of little captive to himself. He, as well as his parents, was in fact a prisoner of the people and the National Assembly, and their numerous jailers behaved so rudely and disrespectfully to them that the situation soon became unbearable. The unvarying kindness and patience of the King served only to multiply the complaints and calumnies of his enemies. Even the Queen could no longer appear at her window without exposing herself to insults and invectives. At last the yoke became so heavy that nothing remained but to escape, or break it by force. The kindly heart of the King shrank from the latter course, which could not be accomplished without bloodshed, so the necessary preparations were made for flight—the only recourse left him. It was determined to seek a refuge in some frontier town and from there to carry on negotiations with the arrogant Assembly.