arrives. He has a serene brow, a smile upon his lips.
It hardly seems possible that before the end of the year he will
be a septuagenarian; he would be taken for a man of fifty,
powdered. An immense cry of "Long live the King," raised by the
National Guards, is repeated by the crowd. The monarch, radiant,
salutes with glance and hand.
He passes along the front of the battalions. Here and there are
heard cries of "Hurrah for the Charter! Hurrah for liberty of the
press!" But they are drowned by those of "Long live the King!"
Everything seems to go as he wishes, and Charles X. feels that the
review, which his timid ministers regarded as dangerous, is an
inspiration. So far it is for him only a triumph. But suddenly, as
he appears in front of the Seventh Legion, he remarks the
persistence with which a group of the Guards is crying, "Hurrah
for the Charter!" The monarch perceives a sentiment of
unfriendliness. A National Guardsman ventures to speak:--
"Does Your Majesty think that cheers for the Charter are an
outrage?"--"Gentlemen," responds the King in a severe tone, "I
came here to receive homage, not a lesson." The royal pride of
this response had a good effect. The cries of "Long live the
King!" are renewed with energy. The face of Charles X. again
becomes calm and serene. Seated in his saddle before the Military
School, the sovereign sees file by the twelve legions, with
unanimous cheers.
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