Dumouriez had a final interview with Louis XVI., June 18. The King received him in his chamber. He had resumed his kindly air, and when the ex-minister had shown him the accounts of the last { 172} fortnight, he complimented him on their clearness. Afterwards, the following conversation took place: "Then you are going to join Luckner's army?"--"Yes, Sire, I leave this frightful city with delight; I have but one regret; you are in danger here."--"Yes, that is certain."--"Well, Sire, you can no longer fancy that I have any personal interest to consult in talking with you; once having left your Council, I shall never again approach you; it is through fidelity and the purest attachment that I dare once more entreat you, by your love for your country, your safety and that of your crown, by your august spouse and your interesting children, not to persist in the fatal resolution of vetoing the two decrees. This persistence will do no good, and you will ruin yourself by it."--"Don't say any more about it; my decision is made."--"Ah! Sire, you said the same thing when, in this very room, and in presence of the Queen, you gave me your word to sanction them."--"I was wrong, and I repent of it."--"Sire, I shall never see you again; pardon my frankness; I am fifty-three, and I have some experience. It was not then that you were wrong, but now. Your conscience is abused concerning this decree against the priests; you are being forced into civil war; you are helpless, and you will be overthrown, and history, though it may pity you, will reproach you with having caused all the misfortunes of France. On your account, I fear your friends still more than your enemies."--"God is my witness { 173} that I wish for nothing but the welfare of France."--"I do not doubt it, Sire; but you will have to account to God, not solely for the purity but also for the enlightened execution of your intentions. You expect to save religion, and you destroy it. The priests will be massacred and your crown torn from you. Perhaps even your wife, your children..." Emotion prevented Dumouriez from going on. Tears stood in his eyes. He kissed the hand of Louis XVI. respectfully. The King wept also, and for a moment both were silent. "Sire," resumed Dumouriez, "if all Frenchmen knew you as well as I do, our woes would soon be ended. Do you desire the welfare of France? Very well! That demands the sacrifice of your scruples ... You are still master of your fate. Your soul is guiltless; believe a man exempt from passion and prejudice, and who has always told you the truth."--"I expect my death," replied Louis XVI. sadly, "and I forgive them for it in advance. I thank you for your sensibility. You have served me well; I esteem you, and if a happier time shall ever come, I will prove it to you." With these words the King rose sadly, and went to a window at the end of the apartment. Dumouriez gathered up his papers slowly, in order to gain time to compose his features; he was unwilling to let his emotion become evident to the persons at the door as he went out. "Adieu," said the King kindly, "and be happy!"