him. The king pushed past the keeper of the palace, who was walking
slowly backward before him, and turned abruptly into a small room
on the ground floor, where he locked himself in and remained for
many hours. When he came forth, his figure seemed to have shrunk,
his complexion was gray, his eyes were red and swollen. He had
spent his time in burning up old love-letters,--reminiscences of
a lady to whom he had been deeply attached in his youth.

[Footnote 1: All the Year Round, 1885.]

The mob of Paris having ascertained that the fugitive royal family
were pausing at Rambouillet, about twelve miles from the capital,
set out to see what mischief could be done in that direction. The
Duchesse de Berri, her children, and the Duc d'Angoulême were at the
Château de Maintenon, and the king, upon the approach of the mob,
composed only of roughs, determined to join them. As he passed out of
the chateau, which he had used as a hunting-lodge, he stretched out
his hand with a gesture of despair to grasp those of some friends
who had followed him to Rambouillet, and who were waiting for his
orders. He had none to give them. He spoke no word of advice, but
walked down the steps to his carriage, and was driven to the Château
de Maintenon to rejoin his family.

The mob, when it found that the king had fled, was persuaded to
quit Rambouillet by having some of the most brutal among them put
into the king's coaches. Attended by the rest of the unruly crowd,
they were driven back to Paris, and assembling before the Palais
Royal, shouted to Louis Philippe: "We have brought you your coaches.
Come out and receive them!" Eighteen years later, these coaches
were consumed in a bonfire in the Place du Carrousel.