“At the ‘Hotel du Grand Monarque.’”
“Monsieur, I thank you,” said the King. “You can return to your house; no one has seen you—no one has heard you; therefore, no harm can happen to you.”
The Major took the hint, and retired, after having made a profound obeisance.
“Messieurs,” said the King, addressing the two young gentlemen who had dismounted from the box-seat, “take your places. You, M. de Valory, jump on your horse, and gallop on to the ‘Grand Monarque.’ You hear that our escort is there.”
The two young gentlemen took their places, and M. de Valory vaulted into his saddle.
The King and Queen re-entered the carriage, the door of which was shut by one of the postilions.
“Postilions!” cried all three gentlemen, with one voice, “to the ‘Hotel du Grand Monarque.’”
The men whipped up their horses; but at the same instant, a man, covered with dust, on a horse flecked with foam, seemed to spring from the ground, and rushing diagonally across the road, cried out, in a voice of thunder, “Stop, postilions! You drive the King!”
I uttered a cry of astonishment, for I recognized the voice of M. Drouet.