Numerous as were the sentinels, they had neglected to place one at the door of that chamber, which had been unoccupied for the space of three months. At eleven o’clock in the evening, the services in the château being finished, the sentinels were accustomed to witness the departure of a great number of people at one time. So that once in the apartment of M. Villequier, and as the clock struck eleven, they had every chance of escaping unobserved. It was M. de Fersen’s business to smuggle the royal family out of Paris, unobserved. He was waiting with a fiacre, disguised as a coachman, at the Wicket de l’Echelle; thence he was to take the fugitives to the barrier at Clichy, where the berlin was in waiting, under the charge of an Englishman, Mr. Crawford. The three gardes du corps were to follow, in another fiacre. The two _femmes-de-chambre_, Madame Brunier and Madame de Neuville, went on foot to the Pont Royal, where they found a two-horsed carriage stationed, in which they started for Claye, where they were to await the Queen. Madame Elizabeth stepped out first, with Madame Royale; then came Madame de Tourzel, and the Dauphin, accompanied by one of the gardes du corps. The two parties were separated one from the other by about twenty paces. One of the sentinels crossed the road, and on seeing the first party, stopped them. “Oh, aunt!” cried Madame Royale; “we are lost! That man recognises us!” Madame Elizabeth made no reply, but continued to advance. Madame Royale was deceived. They were not recognised—or, if they were, it was by a friend. The sentinel turned his back on them, and allowed them to pass. At the expiration of five minutes, Madame de Tourzel, the two princesses, and the Dauphin were in the carriage, which was awaiting them at the corner of the Rue de l’Echelle. M. de Fersen was so well disguised, that the princesses did not recognize him. It was he who knew them. He leapt from his box, opened the door, and assisted them in. At the moment that M. de Fersen shut the door, an empty fiacre passed by. Seeing a brother cabman stopping, he stopped likewise, and began to enter into a conversation about the times. M. de Fersen, a man of ready wit, sustained the conversation wonderfully, and, drawing a snuff-box from his pocket, offered his friend a pinch. He plunged his fingers deep into the box, took a long and voluptuous sniff, and drove on. At this moment the King, followed by his garde du corps, came out in his turn, his hands in his pockets, and swaggering like a well-to-do tradesman. He was followed by the second garde. During his passage, one of the buckles of his shoes slipped off. The King did not care to stop for such a trifling matter as that, but the garde who came after him picked it up. M. de Fersen got in front of the King. “And the Queen, sire?” asked he. “The Queen follows us,” replied the King. He then got into the carriage in his turn. They awaited the Queen.