CHAPTER XXIII.

The Ladies Leave Paris.

We could still hear the hoarse shouts of the people, but the streets in
the direction of St. Denis were quiet, and the darkness prevented us
from being observed. As Marie had recovered her strength we walked
quickly, and finally arrived at the gate, where the Duke of Orleans had
stationed a double guard. The officer on duty regarded us with
suspicion, but I showed him the order, which he dared not disobey.

"You may pass, monsieur," said he with mocking politeness, "it is not
for me to disapprove of the Duke's friends."

The fellow's words roused my anger, and my face burned, but time was
too precious for me to quarrel with him. We had saved our lives, it is
true, but our plight was still miserable enough.

"We must find somewhere to sleep," said Madame Coutance, "and in the
morning we can hire a carriage. Marie is too tired to walk farther."

This was the best plan, but I knew nothing of St. Denis, and it was
only after a weary search that I secured accommodation for them in a
small inn. The place was dirty, and the landlord ugly enough to
frighten one, but Marie and her aunt behaved very bravely, making no
complaint. They retired to their room at once, while I kept guard
outside the door with loaded pistols and naked sword.

The next morning I learned the lesson that it is not always well to
judge by appearances. Touched by the ladies' distress, the innkeeper
did all he could to help me, and, through his assistance, I succeeded
in hiring a wretched cart to carry us a stage on our journey.

"I am sorry it is such a poor affair," said the man, "but there is not
a carriage in the place. It is strange how many people have left Paris
during the last few days. One would think the plague had broken out."

"The plague would have been less harmful," said I, remembering the
scene in the Rue Crillon.

In view of Le Tellier's note all this delay was extremely awkward, but
there was no help for it; I could not leave Marie and her aunt stranded
at St. Denis.

Madame Coutance laughed merrily at sight of the clumsy vehicle, and she
joked on my taste in choosing such an elegant equipage. However, we
made the inside fairly comfortable with rugs and cushions, and, having
paid the inn-keeper, I assisted the ladies to their seats and clambered
in after them. The driver, a stolid, thick-headed fellow, cracked his
whip, and we started off at a brisk trot, which, however, the