At two o'clock the ostler in charge announced that the diligence was ready to start. Jean Baptiste, the jocund host of the "Cheval Blanc," was going round the table, collecting payment for the good déjeuner which had been served to his well-satisfied clients.
"What shall I do about the gentleman in there?" asked the serving maid, pointing to the door of the private room. "He was asleep the last time I went in."
"Wake him up," replied Jean Baptiste.
"I have done all I could to wake him," answered the wench. "He doesn't seem inclined to move."
"He'll have to move," rejoined Jean Baptiste with a laugh; "or the diligence will go without him."
With that he strode across to the door of the private room, kicked it open with his foot, and called out in his lusty voice which, as someone remarked, was loud enough to wake the dead:
"Now then, Monsieur, 'tis time to wake up! The diligence is about to start. You'll never get to Paris at this rate."
The door had remained wide open. The travellers in the coffee-room could see the figure of M. Darnier sitting huddled in a chair, and half-leaning against the table, like one who is in a drunken sleep.
"Give him a good shake, papa Baptiste!" called one of the young officers waggishly. "Your good wine has been too much for him."
Jean Baptiste stooped and gave the huddled figure a good shake. Then suddenly he uttered a horrified "Oh, mon Dieu!"