The door yielded to the force used, and showed a man of fifty or fifty-five years, holding a candle in his hand. He was attired in a dressing-gown, and had his naked feet thrust into slippers.
This was the same M. Préfontaine whom I have already spoken of, and with whom M. Dampierre stayed when he came to Varennes.
“What do you want, Monsieur?” asked the astonished old Chevalier; “and why do you break open my door?”
“Monsieur,” replied the courier, “we do not know Varennes; we are en route for Stenay. Will you be kind enough to point out the road we ought to follow?”
“If I render you this service, perhaps I shall be compromised!”
“You, I am sure, will never refuse to render a service to a lady who is in danger.”
“Monsieur,” said the old gentleman, “the lady who is behind you is not simply a woman.” Then lowering his voice, he said, “It is the Queen!”
M. de Valory tried to deny it; but the Queen, taking him by the arm, “Lose no time in discussion,” she said; “tell the King alone that we are discovered.”
At this moment, two other young gentlemen, dressed as couriers, jumped down from the box of the chaise.
“Sire,” said M. Valory, “the Queen desires me to tell you that she is recognised.”