An accident was soon to stir up the dormant passions in the bosoms of the party.
The Queen suddenly stopped as though her feet had struck root.
A horseman appeared a quarter-league away, wrapped in the cloud of dust which his horse's hoofs threw up.
Marie Antoinette dared not say: "It is Count Charny!" but she did exclaim, "News from Paris!"
Everybody turned round except the Dauphin who was chasing a butterfly—compared with its capture the news from the capital little mattered.
Being shortsighted, the King drew a small spy-glass from his pocket.
"I believe it is only Lord Charny," he said.
"Yes, it is he," said the Queen.
"Go on," said the other: "he will catch up to us and we have no time to lose."
The Queen dared not suggest that the news might be of value.