He helped Crystal into the carriage, and also the unfortunate Jeanne; finally he too followed, and pulled the door to behind him.
Victor did not wait to see the coach make a start. He gave the order to remount.
"How far are we from St. Priest?" he asked.
"Not eight kilomètres, mon Colonel," was the reply.
"En avant then, ventre-à-terre!" he commanded, as he swung himself into the saddle.
The great high road between Grenoble and Lyons is very wide, and Pierre had no need to draw his horses to one side, as de Marmont and his troop, after much scrambling, champing of bits and clanking of metal, rode at a sharp trot past the coach and him.
For some few moments the sound of the horses' hoofs on the hard road kept the echoes of the night busy with their resonance, but soon that sound grew fainter and fainter still—after five minutes it died away altogether.
M. de Comte put his head out of the window.
"Eh bien, Pierre," he called, "why don't we start?"
The postillion cracked his whip; Pierre shouted to his horses; the heavy coach groaned and creaked and was once more on its way.