d or fenced. All travelers had a
license to help themselves to as much fruit as they might wish to eat
when it was on the vines.

They arrived at Chantenay on a cold rainy evening. They were settled
in their rooms, happy that they had protection from the weather, when
their landlord went from room to room informing them that they would
have to move on.

"Why?" Jack ventured to inquire.

"Because a _seigneur_ has arrived."

"A _seigneur_!" Jack exclaimed.

"_Oui_, Monsieur. He is a very great man."

"But suppose we refuse to go," said Jack.

"Then, Monsieur, I shall detain your horses. It is a law of _le grand
monarque_."

There was no dodging it. The coach and horses came back to the inn
door. The passengers went out into the dark, rainy night to plod along
in the mud, another six miles or so, that the seigneur and his suite
could enjoy that comfort the weary travelers had been forced to leave.
Such was the power of privilege with which the great Louis had saddled
his kingdom.

They proceeded to Ancenis, Angers and Breux. From the latter city the
road to Versailles was paved with flat blocks of stone. There were
swarms of beggars in every village and city crying out, with hands
extended, as the coach passed them:

"_La charite, au nom de Dieu_!"

"France is in no healthy condition when this is possible," the young
man wrote.

If he met a priest carrying a Bon Dieu in a silver vase every one
called out, "_Aux genoux_!" and then the beholder had to kneel, even if
the mud were ankle deep. So on a wet day one's knees were apt to be as
muddy as his feet.

The last stage from Versailles to Paris was called the post royale.
There the postillion had to be dressed like a gentleman. It was a
magnificent avenue, crowded every afternoon by the wealth and beauty of
the kingdom, in gorgeously painted coaches, and lighted at night by
great lamps, with double reflectors, over its center. They came upon
it in the morning on their way to the capital. There were few people
traveling at that hour. Suddenly ahead they saw a cloud of dust. The
stage stopped. On came a band of horsemen riding at a wild gallop.
They were the King's couriers.

"Clear the way," they shouted. "The King's hunt is coming."

All travelers, hearing this command, made quickly for the sidings,
there to draw rein and dismount. The deer came in sight, running for
its life, the King close behind with all his train, the hounds in full