from among you."

Having belonged to the Court from my earliest youth, I was known to many
persons whom I did not know. As I traversed a corridor above the
cloisters which led to the cells inhabited by the unfortunate Louis XVI.
and his family, several of the grenadiers called me by name. One of them
said to me, "Well, the poor King is lost! The Comte d'Artois would have
managed it better."--"Not at all," said another.

The royal family occupied a small suite of apartments consisting of four
cells, formerly belonging to the ancient monastery of the Feuillans. In
the first were the men who had accompanied the King: the Prince de Poix,
the Baron d'Aubier, M. de Saint-Pardou, equerry to Madame Elisabeth, MM.
de Goguelat, de Chamilly, and de Hue. In the second we found the King; he
was having his hair dressed; he took two locks of it, and gave one to my
sister and one to me. We offered to kiss his hand; he opposed it, and
embraced us without saying anything. In the third was the Queen, in bed,
and in indescribable affliction. We found her accompanied only by a stout
woman, who appeared tolerably civil; she was the keeper of the apartments.
She waited upon the Queen, who as yet had none of her own people about
her. Her Majesty stretched out her arms to us, saying, "Come, unfortunate
women; come, and see one still more unhappy than yourselves, since she has
been the cause of all your misfortunes. We are ruined," continued she;
"we have arrived at that point to which they have been leading us for
three years, through all possible outrages; we shall fall in this dreadful
revolution, and many others will perish after us. All have contributed to
our downfall; the reformers have urged it like mad people, and others
through ambition, for the wildest Jacobin seeks wealth and office, and the
mob is eager for plunder. There is not one real patriot among all this
infamous horde. The emigrant party have their intrigues and schemes;