Furnes is a small village about fifteen kilometres from Dunkirk. It was then on Austrian territory, and had been chosen as the rendezvous for the fugitive officers.

On Friday, June 24, in the afternoon, each of these “gentlemen” received a secret message from Colonel de Théon, giving them his instructions.

At the same time, he made to his soldiers a last supreme appeal, conjuring them to respond to it, and to come back to the path of duty.

But it was too late. The hour for such an appeal had gone by.

Towards five o’clock on the evening of the same day, just as the roll-call was ending in the barracks, the officers of the Colonel-Generals (and several brother-soldiers from the Viennois regiment) left the town in groups of three. They took with them the white cornette of the infantry, and the flags of their regiments, which they had torn from the handles. They had not been able to make up their minds to leave their colours behind. When they had passed the ramparts some of them went to the right over the downs which run along the coast, and which the fugitives intended to use as their path to the frontier; the others struck into the open country, and crossed the canal; as soon as they were out of sight, however, they rejoined the first lot. At eight o’clock that evening the boatmen on the Furnes ferry took over two more, and these were MM. d’Averton and De La Motte.

Now, at that hour, the Royal berlin and its freight had just left la Ferti-sous-Jouarre, on the high-road to Châlons, and was proceeding slowly through the dust, followed and accompanied by a noisy, drunken crowd, towards Meaux. It was caught at Varennes; and the fugitives, foiled in their attempt, went back to Paris, from that day forth to be their prison.

The news of their capture, so unluckily contradicted by de Théon in his manifesto, might possibly have altered the plans of the officers from Dunkirk. But we hardly think so. Their arrangements had long since been made, and the Varennes episode gave them, suddenly, an opportunity to carry them out. But imagine their discomfiture when they heard of the dramatic ending of the attempt.

It was again Frotté who had been sent to Brussels, to carry to his King the standard of the regiment.

He arrived there at night, met the Marquis de la Queville, and learnt the truth from him. Instead of the King, it was the King’s brother, the Comte de Provence, whom Frotté found there; for Monsieur, more fortunate than the others, had reached the frontier without any trouble.

Thus the affair had partly failed. There was nothing for the fugitive officers to do but go and join the ever-increasing tribe of émigrés who lined the frontier. They withdrew to Ath, in Hainault, the rendezvous of many exiles.[27]

What happened at Dunkirk when their absence was discovered? On the 25th, at 5 a.m., a “good patriot,” M. François, awoke the commandant of the Garde Nationale, M. Emmery, and presented to him the manifesto of the “Sieur de Théon.” The alarm spread instantly through the town; it was with indignation that people heard the news of the desertion of the officers, who had even been so infamous as to carry off the regimental colours. The soldiers chose new officers, and held a meeting on the parade-ground. M. Emmery came to them, and tried to pacify them by offering them one of the colours of the Garde Nationale, to replace those which had been filched from them. He was enthusiastically received. Hopes rose high once more. Grenadiers and gardes nationaux met in warmest comradeship; and the tricolour was sent for, and presented to the regiment, which was drawn up in battle-array. Vengeance was vowed against traitors and enemies of the Republic. “From that moment there reigned boundless confidence, perfect joy, and assured tranquillity.”

But this was not all. It had to be ascertained whether the runaways had left anything behind them. The Justice of the Peace for the Quartier-du-Midi, Pierre Taverne, betook himself to the officers’ quarters in the barracks. On the first storey, under the landing, there was a door which led into the room that was known to have been Frotté’s. That door was sealed, as were those of all his brother-officers’ rooms. Five days later the seals were broken. The inspection brought nothing noteworthy to light. In Frotté’s room they found two helmets, a cross-belt, and a gorget. The others were still less exciting; a cap and two portmanteaus, “containing a little music,” were found in M. Derampan’s quarters; a cap and a double-barrelled gun in M. Metayer’s; a trunk in M. de Dreuille’s; a cap and a cross-belt in M. Demingin’s, and so on. The Royal tent contained a cabriolet belonging to M. de Théon; the stables, “near the fuel-stores,” yielded another old cabriolet, the property of M. de Frotté. Everything was confiscated, and taken to the Municipality.

The only thing which interested the authorities was a trunk full of papers, which had been seized in Frotté’s quarters. It was examined, but no proofs were found of the suspected conspiracy. It was then tied up, sealed, and sent to the Research Committee of the National Assembly, with a curt account of the occurrence. On the evening of June 28 this was read to the Deputies of the Assembly, some of whom were very angry on hearing the defiant appeal of de Théon to his soldiers.[28]

Was Lady Atkyns at Lille to hear the issue of the adventure? She had more probably left France by that time, terrified by all that was going on around her, and the more so that she was alone, for her friends on every side had left her.

While her lover was languishing among the émigrés (made miserable by their inaction and selfishness) she regained her old home at Ketteringham, uneasy in her mind, but not despairing. She saw plainly what her own path was to be; for her love for the Queen and the Queen’s people was henceforth to rule her life, and carry her on from one devoted action to another.