December 9 was the day appointed for the queen to leave London. It was Sunday, but some of the advanced troops of the prince's army, who had dispersed in different parts of the city, began the day by burning Catholic houses and chapels, and creating a tumult that terrified the peaceful citizens, while tidings of other dreadful occurrences came from all parts of the kingdom. When night approached the queen implored her husband to allow her to remain and share his peril, but he assured her that he would follow her within twenty-four hours, and that it was necessary for the safety of their child that she should precede him. At ten o'clock their majesties went to bed, and when all was dark and quiet in the palace they got up and began preparations for departure. Shortly after midnight St. Victor ascended a secret staircase to the king's apartment. He was dressed like a common sailor, though he was well-armed underneath his coarse attire, and brought a disguise for the queen. Lady Strickland was in waiting that night, and assisted her majesty until two o'clock, when all who were to share the journey met in the apartment of Madame Labadie, where the prince had been carried secretly some time before. Turning to the count, King James said: "I confide my queen and son to your care; all must be hazarded to convey them with the utmost speed to France." Reserving a silence that was more eloquent than words, the queen gave her husband a parting look, then crossed the grand hall, {290}and stole softly down the back-stairs with St. Victor, who had possessed himself of the keys. The two nurses followed close behind with the sleeping infant. A coach that St. Victor had borrowed from an Italian friend, without telling him to what use it was to be employed, stood at the gate. The queen, Count de Lauzun, and the two nurses with the baby entered, while St. Victor took his seat beside the coachman, and Mary Beatrice left Whitehall never to return. The coach had to pass six sentinels, who called out, "Who goes there?" Each time St. Victor replied boldly, "A friend," and, showing the keys, was permitted to pass without opposition. At Westminster the fugitives entered a boat in which St. Victor had crossed on several previous nights with his gun and a basket of cold provisions to make believe that he was a sportsman and thus avoid suspicion. But this particular night was so stormy, and the rain poured in such torrents, that the boatman must have known no unimportant errand would tempt a woman with an infant six months old to make so dangerous a trip, for the river had swollen, and the wind was blowing violently. When the travellers reached the opposite bank, which was at last accomplished after a great deal of difficulty, St. Victor looked anxiously around for the carriage that ought to have stood in waiting as he had arranged; but Monsieur Dusions, one of her majesty's pages, appeared promptly at a call, and said that it was still at the inn. St.