No provisions had been taken in the carriage, and the little dauphin was suffering from hunger and begging for some food.

Tears, which her own danger could not bring to her eyes, flowed plentifully as she witnessed the suffering of her child.

She could only beg him to bear his privations with patience; and she had the reward of the pains she had always taken to inspire him with confident in her, in the fortitude with which, for the rest of the day, he bore what to children of his age is probably the severest hardship to which they can be exposed.[9] So vast and disorderly was the procession that it was nine o'clock at night before it reached Paris.

Bailly again met the royal carriage at the barrier, and, re-assuming the tone of coarse insult which he had adopted on the king's previous visit, had the effrontery to describe the day so full of horror to every one, and of humiliation and agony to those whom he was addressing, as a glorious day.

It was at such moments as these that Louis's impassibility assumed the character of dignity.