"And do you esteem as nothing," she replied, "the glory of being the wife
of one of the best and most persecuted of men? Are not such misfortunes
the noblest honours?"--[Alison's "History of Europe," vol. ii., p. 299.]

Meanwhile the Assembly had decided that the King should be brought to
trial. Nearly all parties, except the Girondists, no matter how bitterly
opposed to each other, could agree in making him the scapegoat; and the
first rumour of the approaching ordeal was conveyed to the Temple by
Clery's wife, who, with a friend, had permission occasionally to visit
him. "I did not know how to announce this terrible news to the King," he
says; "but time was pressing, and he had forbidden my concealing anything
from him. In the evening, while undressing him, I gave him an account of
all I had learnt, and added that there were only four days to concert some
plan of corresponding with the Queen. The arrival of the municipal
officer would not allow me to say more. Next morning, when the King rose,
I could not get a moment for speaking with him. He went up with his son
to breakfast with the Princesses, and I followed. After breakfast he
talked long with the Queen, who, by a look full of trouble, made me
understand that they were discussing what I had told the King. During the
day I found an opportunity of describing to Madame Elisabeth how much it
had cost me to augment the King's distresses by informing him of his
approaching trial. She reassured me, saying that the King felt this as a
mark of attachment on my part, and added, 'That which most troubles him is
the fear of being separated from us.' In the evening the King told me how
satisfied he was at having had warning that he was to appear before the
Convention. 'Continue,' he said, 'to endeavour to find out something as
to what they want to do with me. Never fear distressing me. I have
agreed with my family not to seem pre-informed, in order not to compromise
you.'"