"Why, as the King passes, guard the vehicle, act as circumstances dictate, and start off half an hour after the Royal Family to guard the rear." But he interrupted himself saying: "Hush, we are spied. Perhaps we have been overheard. Get away to your squadron and do all you can to keep your men steadfast."
Indeed, Drouet was at the kitchen door where this dialogue was held. Dandoins walked away.
At this period, cracking of whips was heard: the royal coach rolled up across the square and stopped at the posthouse.
At the noise it made, the population mustered around the spot with curiosity.
Captain Dandoins, whose heart was sore about the oversight, and wanting to explain why his men were standing at ease instead of being ready for action, darted up to the carriage window, taking off his cap and bowing, with all kind of respect to excuse himself to the sovereign and the Royal Family. To answer him the King put his head out of the window several times.
Isidore, with his foot in the stirrup, was near Drouet who watched the conveyance with profound attention: he had been up to town to the Federation Festival and he had seen the King whom he believed he recognized. That morning he had received a number of the new issue of assignats the paper money of the State which bore the monarch's head: he pulled one out and compared it with the original. This seemed to cry out to him: "You have the man before you."
Isidore went round the carriage to the other side where his brother was masking the Queen by leaning his elbow on the window.
"The King is recognized," he said; "hurry off the carriage and take a good look at that tall dark fellow—the postmaster's son, who has recognized the King. His name is Jean Baptiste Drouet."
"Right," responded George, "I will look to him. You, be off!"
Isidore galloped on to Clermont to have the fresh horses ready there.