"Right you are, my friend, shout away; and, while you shout, I will take a little nap."
"What shall I shout?"
"Why, Vive la République! to be sure!"
We came out of Dammartin amidst shouts of "Vive la République!"
Between Dammartin and Nanteuil we saw a post-carriage, which, when it caught sight of our tricolour flag, stopped, and its occupants stepped down.
"What news?" a man of about fifty asked us.
"The Louvre is taken and the Bourbons have fled; there is a Provisional Government composed of La Fayette, Gérard, etc. Vive la République!"
The gentleman of fifty scratched his ear and got into his carriage again. It was M. Cunin-Gridaine. We resumed our journey, and by twenty to eight we were at Nanteuil. We had only three hours and twenty minutes left and still had twelve leagues to go. It was not likely we could manage it, but my principle always is not to despair so long as there is any vestige of hope left; even then!... At Nanteuil we again changed horses, and the tricoloured flag had its usual effect. Nothing was known of Paris doings, so we brought the first really definite news. They gave us an old postillion, to whom I shouted—
"Four leagues an hour, and three francs as tip."
"All right, all right," said the old fellow. "I know my business. I've driven the general."