“Why so, sir?” she demanded in an imperative manner.
“Because, did I permit you to continue your route, I should be running a risk, on account of the reports that are flying about.”
“Pray, sir, to what reports do you allude?”
“The report of the flight of the King and his family,” replied Sauce, fixedly regarding the King.
The travellers were aghast. The Queen drew back into the shadow of the carriage.
All this time, the passport was being examined, in a public room in the “Grand Monarque,” by the light of two candles. A member of the council remarked that the passport was correct, since it had been signed by the King and the Minister for Foreign Affairs.
“Yes,” remarked Drouet, who had arrived with Guillaume and Regnier during the discussion, “but it is not signed by the President of the National Assembly!”
“How?” said a voice. “Why should it be signed by him?”
“Certainly, it should be,” said Drouet, “considering that France is a nation—considering that it has appointed deputies to maintain its rights. The true King of France is he who sat on a seat as lofty as the King’s at the Champ de Mars—not only the veritable, but the more than King!”