I will now tell you what occurred on the high road, after M. Drouet and I left the two carriages, as well as I can from the description given me afterwards by M. de Préfontaine, who, though he had closed his door, took good care to open his window, and, therefore, saw and heard all that passed.
M. de Valory, when he fell, did not abandon his hold on the bridle of his horse, and as he tumbled on soft ground, he escaped with a few bruises.
He was, therefore, soon again mounted, and, threatening the postilions with his raised whip, he cried, “Well, wretches, have you understood?”
“Certainly; and have you?”
“What?”
“That which M. Drouet said. He told us not to go any farther.”
“You dare to quote M. Drouet, when the King commands!”
“Get rid of the three scoundrels!” said one of the young gentlemen on the box, “and let us drive the carriage ourselves.”
“Gentlemen!” cried the Queen, who saw that there was going to be bloodshed.
Then to the postilions—“Gentlemen,” she said, in her softest voice, “I do not order, I entreat. Fifty louis to each one of you, if you drive us safely to the ‘Grand Monarque.’”