"Yes."
"Then off you go; gallop the whole way, you understand?"
"I understand, governor," said the postillion.
And he set off at a furious pace.
"You know the pistols aren't loaded," Bard said.
"All right! we will load them at Villers-Cotterets."
By a quarter to six we were at Mesnil: we had covered nearly four leagues in the hour.
Luckily there were fresh horses at the post. Our postillion here got another postboy to take up the running, and, in order that we might make even better speed, they put in three horses this time instead of two. I wanted to pay for the stage we had just done, but the posting-master had given his orders and the postillion refused to take the money. I gave him ten francs for himself; he commended us to the fresh postboy and we set off at top speed. Fortunately, the trap was well-seasoned, and in an hour we were at Dammartin. Our tricolour flag produced the desired sensation. The people came out all along our route and made the liveliest signs of enthusiasm; and, by the time we reached our relay at Dammartin, half the town had collected round us.
"This is capital!" exclaimed Bard; "but to make things more lively still, we ought to shout something."