“Alas!” she cried, “what folly to spend their strength in this way, when the enemy is at the gates!” Then, as she turned to go, she added with emotion:
“Unhappy palace! fate seems to have ordained that all crowned heads shall leave you in this way.”
By this time her escort was reduced to the two ambassadors and Madame Lebreton. The others had already fled to seek their own safety. She took Count Nigra’s arm, and Madame Lebreton followed with Prince Metternich. Through the Flora Pavilion of the Tuileries they hurried to the Louvre, the galleries of which they must traverse at full length to reach an exit on the side toward St. Germain. But here, too, the street was crowded with people shouting, “Long live the Republic!” “Down with the Emperor!”
The little party halted before the door, but behind them also sounded the roar of the mob. To turn back would be inevitably to fall into their hands. The risk must be taken; there was nothing to do but go on. Even at this critical point the Empress’s courage did not forsake her; indeed, she had never given clearer proof of it than now.
“You are holding my arm,” she said to Nigra; “do you feel it tremble?”
“Not in the least, Madame,” replied the Count.
The gentlemen opened the doors. The ladies passed out, and Eugénie found herself face to face with the populace who were inflamed with hatred against her. She was within a hair’s-breadth of sharing the fate of Marie Antoinette, or perhaps being torn to pieces by the rabble. The excitement was so great, there is no knowing what terrible scene might have been enacted had she been recognized.
Luckily a closed carriage happened to be standing near by, and with great presence of mind she rushed toward it. A street urchin spied her and shouted, “Look, look! the Empress!” but no one heeded the words. Nigra stopped and spoke to the boy to divert his attention while Eugénie threw herself into the carriage, followed by Madame Lebreton. Prince Metternich shouted an imaginary address to the driver, and off they went, safe at least for the time being. But their troubles were not yet ended. In her haste, Eugénie had forgotten her purse; and when her companion drew hers from her pocket she found to her horror that it contained only three francs in all, scarcely enough to pay for the carriage. To avoid a discussion with the driver, they determined to continue on foot, but whither, they had not yet considered. At the Boulevard Haussmann, therefore, they alighted, and while Madame Lebreton paid the coachman, Eugénie stepped into the shadow of a doorway.
