him, his only consolation was the piety of his daughters.--SOULAVIE,
"Historical and Political Memoirs," vol. i.]

The Comtesse du Barry had, a few days previously, withdrawn to Ruelle, to
the Duc d'Aiguillon's. Twelve or fifteen persons belonging to the Court
thought it their duty to visit her there; their liveries were observed,
and these visits were for a long time grounds for disfavour. More than
six years after the King's death one of these persons being spoken of in
the circle of the royal family, I heard it remarked, "That was one of the
fifteen Ruelle carriages."

The whole Court went to the Chateau; the oiel-de boeuf was filled with
courtiers, and the palace with the inquisitive. The Dauphin had settled
that he would depart with the royal family the moment the King should
breathe his last sigh. But on such an occasion decency forbade that
positive orders for departure should be passed from mouth to mouth. The
heads of the stables, therefore, agreed with the people who were in the
King's room, that the latter should place a lighted taper near a window,
and that at the instant of the King's decease one of them should
extinguish it.

The taper was extinguished. On this signal the Body Guards, pages, and
equerries mounted on horseback, and all was ready for setting off. The
Dauphin was with the Dauphiness. They were expecting together the
intelligence of the death of Louis XV. A dreadful noise, absolutely like
thunder, was heard in the outer apartment; it was the crowd of courtiers
who were deserting the dead sovereign's antechamber, to come and do homage
to the new power of Louis XVI. This extraordinary tumult informed Marie
Antoinette and her husband that they were called to the throne; and, by a
spontaneous movement, which deeply affected those around them, they threw