"Our ambassadress was fortunate enough to reach the King's apartment
unobserved, and to find him unattended, so he received the message
forthwith. On leaving the apartment, however, she was noticed and
watched. She immediately went out of the Tuileries as if sent to make
purchases, and some time afterwards returned with some trifling articles
in her hand.

[This incident will give the reader an idea of the cruel situation in
which the first Sovereigns of Europe then stood; and how much they
appreciated the few subjects who devoted themselves to thwart and
mitigate the tyranny practised by the Assembly over these illustrious
victims. I can speak from my own experience on these matters. From the
time I last accompanied the Princesse de Lamballe to Paris till I left it
in 1792, what between milliners, dressmakers, flower girls, fancy toy
sellers, perfumers, hawkers of jewellery, purse and gaiter makers, etc.,
I had myself assumed twenty different characters, besides that of a
drummer boy, sometimes blackening my face to enter the palace unnoticed,
and often holding conversations analogous to the sentiments of the
wretches who were piercing my heart with the remarks circumstances
compelled me to encourage. Indeed, I can safely say I was known, in some
shape or other, to almost everybody, but to no one in my real character,
except the Princess by whom I was so graciously employed.]

"The moment the King appeared, 'Sire,' exclaimed Her Majesty, 'the
Assembly, tired of endeavouring to wear us to death by slow torment, have
devised an expedient to relieve their own anxiety and prevent us from
putting them to further inconvenience.'

"'What do you mean?' said the King. I repeated my conversation with M.
Laporte. 'Bah! bah!' resumed His Majesty, 'They never will attempt it.