Going down the stairs, the prince was alarmed to see that one of the workmen, who was probably a teetotaller, and had resisted Thelin’s invitation, was already at his work on the baluster; but fortunately he did not look up as the man with the plank went by. At the bottom, the fugitive heard the workmen come pouring out of the dining-room overhead, just as he was rejoined by Thelin; and with great presence of mind Dr. Conneau called out to the workmen that he had something to say to them, and so delayed them until the others had passed between the keepers.
“Good morning, Thelin,” said Dupin, one of these, stooping to pat the prince’s dog, which went with them: “so you are off on a journey, eh?” seeing the great coat on his arm.
“Yes, I am off for a short drive with master doggy here,” replied Thelin, making room for the awkward man with the board, who walked straight through.
“Well, good-bye, take care of yourself,” replied Dupin; while Issali, the other keeper, walked on in conversation with Thelin as far as the gate of the fort. Here, as they went out, the soldier on guard would have taken no notice had not the prince dropped his pipe right at the man’s feet, which attracted his attention, and he looked him straight in the face as he stooped to pick it up. That must have been a moment long after remembered by the ruler of the French. Recovering his pipe, he passed out through the serjeant’s guard, and being narrowly scanned by one of the soldiers, he shifted the plank as if he were tired, and managed so as very nearly to knock his examiner on the head. With an exclamation of impatience the man turned aside, and the prince was free!
The fugitives had not gone far, however, when they met two workmen, who looked very hard at the prince, who had once more to shift his board so as to hide his face. As they passed, one of them exclaimed, “Is that Bertou?” To which, with almost pardonable disregard of truth, his highness gave a laconic “Oui!” and passed on.
The moment they were out of sight of the fortress, the board was thrown into a ditch, with the dirty blouse; and as the prince was disguised as a cabman, he waited outside the cemetery of St. Sulpice, two miles from Ham, while his companion went for the cab in which the master was to drive the servant to St. Quentin, on their way to Valenciennes.
When Charles Thelin returned with the cabriolet, he found the prince on his knees before a large crucifix, returning thanks for his delivery.
As they drove towards St. Quentin, an old woman who knew Thelin passed them, and afterwards told her friends that she had never before seen him in such disreputable looking company, for she had always regarded the valet to the good prince as a very respectable young man. At St. Quentin the prince walked round the outskirts of the town to the opposite side to that on which he had entered, while the valet drove to the post-house to get a chaise to take them to Valenciennes.
Thelin being a great favourite with Madame Abrai, who kept the inn from which the chaise had to be obtained, had much trouble to get away. She insisted upon his taking some breakfast, and to tempt him, brought out a pie of her own making, which she declared he must taste or never speak to her again. Always ready to improve the occasion, her guest not only ate some, but in a jocular way declared that the pasty was so good that he should steal it and take it with him to eat on the journey. The good soul consenting, it was taken to his highness, who, being very hungry, condescended to finish it.
Owing to the pressure put upon him at the inn, Thelin was so long that the prince feared he had mistaken the rendezvous. As he sat in great suspense on a bank by the roadside, a fussy-looking little gentleman passed and scanned him somewhat narrowly.