Tired of seeing nothing fresh, though the day had been passed in excitement, at the moment the clock struck eight I quitted the house of M. Gerbaut. My intention was to walk along the road leading to Neuvilly, and if I saw nothing, to return home, go to bed, and patiently await the morrow. Many houses had their windows open, and were lighted up. The “Hotel du Bras d’Or” was one of these. Some young townsmen were playing at billiards on the first floor. They were MM. Coquilard, Justin, Georges, and Soucin. Two travellers staying at the hotel by chance were playing with them. These were M. Thevenin, of Islettes, and M. Delion, of Montfaucon. I passed under the arch, and entered the Place; two or three houses alone were lighted up. The crowd had dispersed; not a light was burning in the Rue des Réligieuses, with the exception of two lanterns, which only made the darkness in the street visible. I walked up the street, and stopped on the summit, whence I could see the whole town. All seemed to sleep. The Low Town betrayed, especially on the Place, no more life. I saw torches waving in the direction of the “Grand Monarque.” I was occupied in watching them, when I fancied that I heard the gallop of a horse. I laid myself down with my ear to the ground. The noise was now more distinct, on account, no doubt, of the horse having passed from the earth on to the stones. I jumped up, convinced that a horseman was approaching. And not only that, I fancied that I heard in the distance the rumble of the wheels of a carriage. The event expected all day, and watched for by night, was about to happen. I hid myself in the angle of the wall. The gallop approached rapidly. Presently I distinguished, in the midst of the road, a horseman. When the straggling houses came in view, the horseman stopped indecisively. It was evident that he knew not whether to stop or continue his route. For the moment, I thought of showing myself, and offering to guide them; but, on second thoughts, I considered it the least likely mode by which to gain information. I therefore stayed where I was, doubly hidden by the night and the wall. The horseman dismounted, passed the bridle of his horse over his arm, and walked on a few paces, knocking at the doors of the different houses to see if they would open. At last he knocked at No. 4. That opened. It was the property of a small householder, called Jourdan. “Who are you, and what do you want?” asked a voice. “Pardon, monsieur,” returned the courier: “but is this Varennes?” “Did you wake me up to ask me such a question as that? You are laughing at me!” “Excuse me, monsieur, but I am a stranger here, and wish to know if I have really arrived at Varennes.” “You have, monsieur. If you have come for beds, find them, and leave me to my sleep. Good night!” “Your pardon, monsieur,” said the courier; “I came not here to sleep, but am in advance of a carriage which expects relays at Varennes.”