It might have been the end with another man, but not with Lafayette. He rode back to Bordeaux, and there found that much of the outcry raised against him was due to the wiles of his obstinate father-in-law, the Duke d’Ayen. It was true that the English Ambassador had protested to King Louis’ ministers, but there was no real danger of Lafayette’s sailing disturbing the relations between England and France. New letters told Lafayette that his wife was well and happy, though she missed him. The threats and the orders were due, not to the anger of his own government, but to the determination of the Duke that his son-in-law should not risk his life and fortune in such a rash enterprise. When he learned all this the Marquis determined to match the obstinacy of the Duke with an even greater obstinacy of his own. His first thought was to join his ship the _Victory_ at once, but he had no permit to cross into Spain, and if he should be caught disobeying the King’s orders a second time he might get into more serious trouble. His father-in-law was waiting to see him at Marseilles, and so he now arranged to go to that city. In Bordeaux Lafayette met a young French officer, named Du Mauroy, who had also received from Silas Deane a commission in the American army, and who was very anxious to reach the United States. The two made their plans together, and the upshot of it was that they presently set out together in a post-chaise for Marseilles. They did not keep on the road to Marseilles long, however. No sooner were they well out of Bordeaux than they changed their course and drove in the direction of the Spanish border. In a quiet place on the road Lafayette slipped out of the chaise and hid in the woods. There he disguised himself as a post-boy or courier, and then rode on ahead, on horseback, as if he were the servant of the gentleman in the carriage. His companion, Du Mauroy, had a permit to leave France, and the plan was that he should try to get the Marquis across the Spanish frontier as his body-servant. The chaise went galloping along as fast as the horses could pull it, because the young men had good reason to fear that French officers would speedily be on their track, if they were not already pursuing them. They came to a little village, St. Jean de Luz, where Lafayette had stopped on his journey from Las Pasajes to Bordeaux a short time before, and there, as the Marquis, disguised as the post-boy, rode into the stable-yard of the inn the daughter of the innkeeper recognized him as the same young man she had waited on earlier. The girl gave a cry of surprise. “Oh, monsieur!” she exclaimed. Lafayette put his finger to his lips in warning. “Yes, my girl,” he said quickly. “Monsieur my patron wants fresh horses at once. He is coming just behind me, and is riding post-haste to Spain.”