dinner, and ate as usual. There were no knives on the table, and his
attendants refused to let him have any. "Do they think me so cowardly,"
he exclaimed, "as to lay violent hands on myself? I am innocent, and I am
not afraid to die."

The Convention refused the delay, but granted some other demands which he
had made. Garat sent for Edgeworth de Firmont, the ecclesiastic whom
Louis XVI. had chosen, and took him in his own carriage to the Temple. M.
Edgeworth, on being ushered into the presence of the King, would have
thrown himself at his feet, but Louis instantly raised him, and both shed
tears of emotion. He then, with eager curiosity, asked various questions
concerning the clergy of France, several bishops, and particularly the
Archbishop of Paris, requesting him to assure the latter that he died
faithfully attached to his communion.--The clock having struck eight, he
rose, begged M. Edgeworth to wait, and retired with emotion, saying that
he was going to see his family. The municipal officers, unwilling to lose
sight of the King, even while with his family, had decided that he should
see them in the dining-room, which had a glass door, through which they
could watch all his motions without hearing what he said. At half-past
eight the door opened. The Queen, holding the Dauphin by the hand, Madame
Elisabeth, and Madame Royale rushed sobbing into the arms of Louis XVI.
The door was closed, and the municipal officers, Clery, and M. Edgeworth
placed themselves behind it. During the first moments, it was but a scene
of confusion and despair. Cries and lamentations prevented those who were
on the watch from distinguishing anything. At length the conversation
became more calm, and the Princesses, still holding the King clasped in
their arms, spoke with him in a low tone. "He related his trial to my
mother," says Madame Royale, "apologising for the wretches who had
condemned him. He told her that he would not consent to any attempt to
save him, which might excite disturbance in the country. He then gave my