“Adopted, so far as I am concerned,” said Morgan.
“Adopted!” cried the other three in chorus.
Morgan pulled out one of the two watches whose chains were dangling from his belt; it was a masterpiece of Petitot’s enamel, and on the outer case which protected the painting was a diamond monogram. The pedigree of this beautiful trinket was as well established as that of an Arab horse; it had been made for Marie-Antoinette, who had given it to the Duchesse de Polastron, who had given it to Morgan’s mother.
“One o’clock,” said Morgan; “come, gentlemen, we must relay at Lagny at three.”
From that moment the expedition had begun, and Morgan became its leader; he no longer consulted, he commanded.
D’Assas, who in Morgan’s absence commanded, was the first to obey on his return.
Half an hour later a closed carriage containing four young men wrapped in their cloaks was stopped at the Fontainebleau barrier by the post-guard, who demanded their passports.
“Oh, what a joke!” exclaimed one of them, putting his head out of the window and affecting the pronunciation of the day. “Passpawts to dwive to Gwobois to call on citizen Ba-as? ‘Word of fluted honor!’ you’re cwazy, fwend! Go on, dwiver!”
The coachman whipped up his horses and the carriage passed without further opposition.