ere standing,
the whole time, all ready, by the orders of the Duke de Choiseul, in the
upper village, over the bridge; and the men never found this out. They
might have changed horses in five minutes, and proceeded, without having
wakened a single person in the place; instead of which, the carriages
actually stood five-and-thirty minutes on the top of the hill, while
this blundering was going on. The king argued with the postilions about
proceeding another stage: but their horses were so tired, they would not
hear of it.

In the midst of this argument, two riders came up from behind, checked
their horses for a moment on recognising the berlin, which they could
just make out in the dark; and then pushed on quickly into the village.
It was Drouet and his companion.

They rode to the Golden Arms tavern, told the landlord what they came
for, and proceeded to block up the bridge with waggons, and whatever
else they could find. And the fugitives might have passed that bridge
above half an hour before, and be now speeding on with the fresh horses
that were standing ready,--if only young Bouille had not gone to bed; or
even if, instead of one of their useless servants, they had had a
courier who knew the road, and could have told them of the upper
village! Was ever an expedition so mismanaged?

Before the berlin came up (the horses somewhat refreshed with meal and
water), the bridge was well barricaded; and (the landlord having roused
three or four companions) about half-a-dozen men, with muskets and
lanterns hidden under their coats, were standing under an archway,
awaiting the party. Suddenly the lanterns shone out, the horses'
bridles were seized, and a man thrust the barrel of a musket in at each
window, exclaiming, "Ladies, your passports!"

This was one of the moments which occur now and then in the course of
men's lives, as if to show what they are made of. This was the
occasion, if the king had been a man of spirit, to forget that he had
blood to spill,--to assert his rights as a ruler and as an innocent
man,--to daunt his enemies, and rouse his friends,--to carry off his
family in triumph,--to save his crown and kingdom, his life and
reputation. Things much more difficult have been done. His enemies
were but six; and he and his body-guards might have resisted them till
Bouille was roused by the noise, to come up with his hussars, to help
and save. It is true, the king did not know that his enemies were but