anxious because we were so late and had thought be had better hide the berline in a less prominent position. This he had done, with the consequence that we lost half an hour looking for it.
It was now two o’clock; this was the height of summer and the nights were the shortest. In an hour or so, dawn would be on us. We should have been much farther on our journey by now.
Axel drove the citadme to the side of the berline so that we could get into the latter without dismounting from the former. We settled in and were away, and in half an hour we had reached Bondy, the place where the King had decreed that Axel was to leave us.
I almost thought he would refuse to leave us; but Axel was a born royalist; he would accept the orders of the King.
Bondy! The place of separation. We had drawn up. The carriage door opened and there was our coachman.
“Adieu, Madame de Korff,” he said. And he was looking at me.
The King said in moving tones that he would never forget the service Axel had done to him and his family.
Axel bowed and replied it had been his duty and his pleasure. He leaned towards me and said: “Your Majesty should not forget that for the journey you are Madame Rocher the governess.” And in those words he managed to convey a world of tenderness and devotion.
Axel mounted the horse which he had arranged should take him back to Le Bourget; then he left us. And as I listened to his horse’s hoofs on the road I tried to sri’ll the foreboding in my heart and to tell myself that in two days’ time we should meet at Mononedy.
Then we resumed our journey.
We were two hours behind schedule.
The children slept and I was glad of this. So did the King. Would anything disturb his slumbers? Elisabeth, Madame de Tourzel and I closed our eyes. I doubt if those two slept; I know I did not. The Dauphin woke. He was hungry.
I told him we would have a picnic. He had always loved them. He began to chatter. We would find a spot. A shady spot perhaps. It would be a breakfast picnic. I told him it would be a carriage picnic; and I showed him the cupboard in the coach and the food and wine it contained. He was delighted and we all declared that he made such an odd little girl in his frock and bonnet that we were soon laughing as we discovered how hungry we all were.
How different, I thought, everything is by daylight. It is at night that the fears come. Yet it was the cover of darkness we needed badly.
The bright sunshine could serve to betray us. I remembered those words: “It is difficult for you to disguise yourself, Madame.” They were true. My picture had been painted many times. It had hung in the salons; crude drawings of me had been circulated daily about the city, and although, I trust, these were ill representations, they bore some semblance of likeness, for the people had to know whom the picture was meant to portray.
Still for the time being I laughed with the children as we devoured the delicacies which Axel had provided as being fit for a royal party.
And I tried not to think of what would be happening back at the Tuileries, where our escape would very soon be discovered if it had not been already.
Louis took a map and followed the route we were to take. After Bondy, Claye, where we picked up the two ladies who had gone on ahead, and then La Ferte and on to ChalonssurMame.
Chalonssur-Mame! How I longed to be there, for there we should meet the cavalry under the young Due de Choiseui, nephew of my old friend, and outside that town Bouine would be waiting to conduct us to Montmedy—and at Montmedy . safety . and Axel.
How much happier I should have felt if Axel had been driving us now! The Dauphin whimpered that he was hot. It was certainly stifling in the beriine, which laboured painfully up the hills, overloaded as it was. Madame de Tourzel suggested that she get out and walk up the hill with the children, which would lighten the load and give them a little fresh air and the opportunity to stretch their legs.
This seemed a good idea, but the Dauphin wanted to stay in the fields awhile and he ran away and Madame de Tourzel and his sister had to catch him. The sound of his merry shrieks was like a tonic, but the minutes were slip ping by.
In the afternoon we stopped at Petit Chaintxy, the small village near Chaintry, for Axel had wisely said that we should change horses at the smaller rather than the larger places.
At the inn a young man came out to look at the berline. He was talkative, I heard him chatting to the coachman. He had never seen such a magnificent carriage. The occupants must be very rich and important people. His name, he said, was Vallet, Gabriel Vallet, and he was the postmaster’s son-in-law. He was an innkeeper himself, and he often went to Paris.
He passed the window of the coach, I was sure to see what manner of people travelled in such style. And as he looked in at us he knew.
I glanced uneasily at Louis. His wig was the rough wig of the lackey he was supposed to be, but those heavy Bour bon features had been well known in France for centuries. Then Vallet’s eyes went to me. Did I look like a governess? I felt the haughty look coming into my face which always seemed now to be there, much as I tried to suppress it when I came into contact with the people.
He moved away and went to the postmaster; I saw them whispering together. Then the postmaster approached the carriage.
He bowed and his words sent shivers through me.
“Your Majesties, this is a great honour. And we shall remember it as long as we live. We are humble but all we have is at your service.”
Louis, who had always been moved by any affection displayed by his subjects, was even more so now. Tears came into his eyes and he said that it made him very happy to be with friends.
The postmaster signed to his wife and children, who all came to the be rime and were presented; then Vallet’s wife came and she too mumbled her awareness of the honour.
“Your Majesties, we nave a goose cooked all ready to be eaten. If you would honour us by eating it we should be deeply honoured.”
Louis was the King immediately. To refuse such an invitation would be churlish. Therefore we must all descend and eat goose with the postmaster. The children were delighted. It was such a pleasure to get out of the stuffy beriine. And it was quite clear that this loyal family were aware that we were escaping from Paris.
When we had eaten and the King explained that it was imperative he must say goodbye although he would have wished to spend more time with such kind, good people, Vallet asked a favour. Could he act as postilion on the beriine as far as ChalonssurMame?
How could the King refuse such an offer of loyal service? We would have an extra passenger, but there was no help for it and so we set off. And to show his zeal, Vallet tried to drive the beriine beyond its capabilities, with the result that two of the horses fell and there was damage to the traces. Repairs took further time, and when we arrived at Chalons we were even further behind the arranged time.
Chalons was a larger town, but the people were more interested in wine-growing than the revolution; the beriine attracted attention but the people shrugged their shoulders. Some rich emigres. There were too many of such people to cause a great deal of comment.
It had been a mistake to bring Vallet, I began to realise, for although he was the most loyal of subjects he could not hide his awareness of the honour that had been done to him. While the horses were being changed one or two people spoke to him and he betrayed the fact that he was on no ordinary mission. People were already looking askance at the magnificent vehicle. Two children I That in itself was suspicious.
I was very glad when we left Chalons, although the King had noticed nothing. As we rode out of the town he settled down to a nap.
We were near Font de Somme-Vesk; at that town, according to the plan, we should meet the Due de Choiseul’s cavalry; he would then join us and remain with us until we reached Bouille’s loyal troops.
The worst was over. We could all settle down secure in the thought that we were really at the end of our journey.
The heat grew intense. My son wanted to get out and pick some flowers.
He loved flowers and he had missed his little garden at the Trianon sadly.
