At the scaffold he tried to speak a last word to his people.

The drums were ordered to drown his voice, and an attendant priest uttered the words, "_Fils de Saint Louis, montez au ciel_!"-- Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!--and all was over.

The kindest-hearted, most inoffensive gentleman in Europe had expiated the crimes of his ancestors.
More and more furious swept the torrent, gathering to itself all that was vile and outcast.

Where were the pale-faced, determined patriots who sat in the National Assembly?
Some of them riding with dukes and marquises to the guillotine.

Was this the equality they expected when they cried, "Down with the Aristocrats"?
Did they think they could guide the whirlwind after raising it?
As well whisper to the cyclone to level only the tall trees, or to the conflagration to burn only the temples and palaces.
With restraining agencies removed, religion, government, king, all swept away, that hideous brood born of vice, poverty, hatred, and despair came out from dark hiding-places; and what had commenced as a patriotic revolt had become a wild orgy of bloodthirsty demons, led by three master-demons, Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, vying with each other in ferocity.
Then we see that simple girl thinking by one supreme act of heroism and sacrifice, like Joan of Arc, to save her country.