The night was pleasant, though very dark, and after losing their way once or twice, they finally reached the chapel. There they found the equerry with the horses, but Chémerault, who was to be their guide, and several other gentlemen of the King's household, had not made their appearance. They waited for them as long as they dared, but finally Souvré persuaded the King to mount, and trust to God and fortune for safety.
They set out, therefore, but their difficulties had only just begun. In the first place, not one of them knew the way, being all absolute strangers in Poland; and they did not even understand the dialect of the country, so that they could inquire. The night was dark, and the roads were horrible, though that did not matter so much, as they could not keep in them, but continually found themselves wandering away and floundering in deep morasses, blundering about in pine forests, and getting entangled in brambles.
So they went on, stumbling over stones, sinking into bogs, and wading through brooks, till I think they must have wished themselves safe back in their beds in Cracow.
At length Souvré saw a faint light glimmering in the distance, and on approaching it he found it came from the hut of a charcoal burner deep in the forest.
The poor charcoal burner was so terrified by the approach of the horsemen that he darted up into his loft by a ladder on the outside, which he drew up after him. The cavaliers shouted and knocked, and knocked and shouted, but all in vain. Not an inch would the charcoal burner stir; so at last they began to batter down the door.
Finally Souvré managed to scramble up to the loft, where he found the poor man crouching in a corner in a perfect agony of terror. He tried to calm his fears by speaking gently, but the strange language only made him more terrified.
So there was nothing for it but to drag him down, and carry him off to the King, which they accordingly did. Henry had learned a few words of the peasants' dialect, so he soon re-assured the poor man, and made him comprehend that they only wanted him for a guide—an office which he readily took upon himself.
He was swung up on a horse in front of one of the cavaliers, and guided them safely to the town of Liszki. Soon after this they came up with Chémerault and the others, who had missed the King in the darkness, and had arrived before him.
In the mean time you can readily imagine that there was a great uproar in the palace at Cracow when the King's flight was discovered. The Senate and the nobles were absolutely beside themselves with rage at having been so outwitted. The French who had been left behind in ignorance of their master's intended flight were deeply indignant with the King for his treacherous betrayal of them. The mob howled and yelled in the streets, and everybody scolded poor Alemanni.
Karnkowski, the Grand Referendary of Poland, was dispatched in a coach and six to bring back the King, accompanied by a troop of Tartar cavalry armed with bows and arrows, and a howling mob, with sticks, stones, and javelins, followed after.