! 'For five-and-thirty minutes' by the King's watch, the
Berline is at a dead stand; Round-hat arguing with Churnboots; tired
horses slobbering their meal-and-water; yellow Couriers groping,
bungling;--young Bouille asleep, all the while, in the Upper Village,
and Choiseul's fine team standing there at hay. No help for it; not
with a King's ransom: the horses deliberately slobber, Round-hat argues,
Bouille sleeps. And mark now, in the thick night, do not two Horsemen,
with jaded trot, come clank-clanking; and start with half-pause, if
one noticed them, at sight of this dim mass of a Berline, and its dull
slobbering and arguing; then prick off faster, into the Village? It
is Drouet, he and Clerk Guillaume! Still ahead, they two, of the whole
riding hurlyburly; unshot, though some brag of having chased them.
Perilous is Drouet's errand also; but he is an Old-Dragoon, with his
wits shaken thoroughly awake.

The Village of Varennes lies dark and slumberous; a most unlevel
Village, of inverse saddle-shape, as men write. It sleeps; the rushing
of the River Aire singing lullaby to it. Nevertheless from the Golden
Arms, Bras d'Or Tavern, across that sloping marketplace, there still
comes shine of social light; comes voice of rude drovers, or the like,
who have not yet taken the stirrup-cup; Boniface Le Blanc, in white
apron, serving them: cheerful to behold. To this Bras d'Or, Drouet
enters, alacrity looking through his eyes: he nudges Boniface, in all
privacy, "Camarade, es tu bon Patriote, Art thou a good Patriot?"--"Si
je suis!" answers Boniface.--"In that case," eagerly whispers
Drouet--what whisper is needful, heard of Boniface alone. (Deux Amis,
vi. 139-78.)

And now see Boniface Le Blanc bustling, as he never did for the jolliest
toper. See Drouet and Guillaume, dexterous Old-Dragoons, instantly down
blocking the Bridge, with a 'furniture waggon they find there,' with
whatever waggons, tumbrils, barrels, barrows their hands can lay hold
of;--till no carriage can pass. Then swiftly, the Bridge once blocked,
see them take station hard by, under Varennes Archway: joined by Le
Blanc, Le Blanc's Brother, and one or two alert Patriots he has roused.
Some half-dozen in all, with National Muskets, they stand close, waiting
under the Archway, till that same Korff Berline rumble up.

It rumbles up: Alte la! lanterns flash out from under coat-skirts,
bridles chuck in strong fists, two National Muskets level
themselves fore and a