At half-past nine they reached Clermont, four leagues covered. Count Damas was waiting outside the place as he had been warned by Leonard and he stopped Isidore on recognizing his livery.
"You are Charles de Damas? well; I am preceding the King. Get your dragoons in hand and escort the carriage."
"My lord," replied the count, "such a breath of discontent is blowing that I am alarmed, and must confess that my men cannot be answered for, if they recognize the King. All I can promise is that I will fall in behind when he gets by, and bar the road."
"Do your best—here they come!"
He pointed to the carriage rushing through the darkness and visible by the sparks from the horses' shoes.
Isidore's duty was to ride ahead and get the relays ready. In five minutes, he stopped at the posthouse door.
Almost at the same time, Damas rode up with half-a-dozen dragoons, and the King's coach came next. It had followed Isidore so closely that he had not had time to remount. Without being showy it was so large and well built that a great crowd gathered to see it.
Damas stood by the door to prevent the passengers being studied. But neither the King nor the Queen could master their desire to learn what was going on.
"Is that you, Count Damas?" asked the King. "Why are not your dragoons under arms?"