M. de Bouillé was at Dun, where he had passed the night in a state of mortal disquietude. It was the advanced post of his watch. At three o’clock, having received no news, he proceeded to Stenay. At Stenay he was in the centre of his forces, and was able to act with greater facility, having at his disposal a great number of men. From four to five o’clock he was successively joined by M. de Rohrig, M. de Raigecourt, and by his son. He then knew all. But M. de Bouillé could but little depend on his men. He was surrounded by hostile villagers, as he called them—that is to say, patriotic. He was menaced by Metz, by Verdun, and by Stenay. It was his fear of Stenay that had caused him to quit Dun. The Royal German was the sole regiment on which he could depend. It was necessary to keep up their loyalty. M. de Bouillé and his son Louis sat themselves to the work body and soul. A bottle of wine and a louis per man settled the affair. But it took two hours to arm and set out. At last, he started; but at seven o’clock, just at the time when the King got into the carriage. In two hours he covered the eight leagues which separated him from Varennes. On the road he met a hussar. “Well?” “The King is arrested.” “We know it. What then?” “He has just set out from Varennes.” “Where goes he?” “To Paris.” Bouillé did not give himself time to reply. He dashed his spurs into the flanks of his horse. His regiment followed him. Varennes saw the regiment descend “like a waterspout amongst its vines,” to quote the language of the _proces verbal_. When he arrived at the Place du Grand Monarque, the King had started more than an hour. He acted so as to lose no time. The Rue de l’Hôpital was barricaded; the bridge was barricaded. They made a detour round the town; they crossed the river by the ford at the Boucheries, in order to take up a favorable position on the Clermont road, to attack the escort. The order was given, and the manœuvre accomplished. The river was crossed. A hundred steps more, and they would be on the road. But the Moulin Canal was on their way—six feet deep, and impossible to ford. It was necessary to stop and march back. For an instant, they held the idea of fording the river at St. Gengoulf, taking the Rue St. Jean, passing through Varennes and falling on the rear of the escort. But the dragoons were fatigued; the horses rebelled at every step. It would be necessary to fight a way through Varennes, and to fight to get to the King. They said that the garrison of Verdun were on the march, with some cannon. Their courage failed them. They felt that all was lost. M. de Bouillé, weeping with rage, dashed his sword into its sheath, and ordered a retreat. The inhabitants of the high town saw him and his men standing there for an hour, unable to make up their minds to return. Eventually he and his men took the route to Dun, and disappeared in the distance. The King continued his way—_the way of the Cross_.