this manner, this explanation was at last
accepted as the right one.

So in fact it proved. A certain Guetem, a fiddler of the Elector of
Bavaria, had entered the service of Holland, had taken part in her war
against France, and had become a colonel. Chatting one evening with his
comrades, he laid a wager that he would carry off some one of mark
between Paris and Versailles. He obtained a passport, and thirty chosen
men, nearly all of whom were officers. They passed the rivers disguised
as traders, by which means they were enabled to post their relays [of
horses]. Several of them had remained seven or eight days at Sevres,
Saint Cloud, and Boulogne, from which they had the hardihood to go to
Versailles and see the King sup. One of these was caught on the day
after the disappearance of Beringhen, and when interrogated by
Chamillart, replied with a tolerable amount of impudence. Another was
caught in the forest of Chantilly by one of the servants of M. le Prince.
From him it became known that relays of horses and a post-chaise had been
provided at Morliere for the prisoner when he should arrive there, and
that he had already passed the Oise.

As I have said, couriers were despatched to the governors of the
frontiers; in addition to this, information of what had taken place was
sent to all the intendants of the frontier, to all the troops in quarters
there. Several of the King's guards, too, and the grooms of the stable,
went in pursuit of the captors of Beringhen. Notwithstanding the
diligence used, the horsemen had traversed the Somme and had gone four
leagues beyond Ham-Beringhen, guarded by the officers, and pledged to
offer no resistance--when the party was stopped by a quartermaster and
two detachments of the Livry regiment. Beringhen was at once set at
liberty. Guetem and his companion were made prisoners.

The grand fault they had committed was to allow the King's carriage and
the footmen to go back to Versailles so soon after the abduction. Had
they led away the coach under cover of the night, and so kept the King in
ignorance of their doings until the next day, they would have had more
time for their retreat. Instead of doing this they fatigued themselves
by too much haste. They had grown tired of waiting for a carriage that
seemed likely to contain somebody of mark. The Chancellor had passed,
but in broad daylight, and they were afraid in consequence to stop him.
M. le Duc d'Orleans had passed,