At Bondy the king, the queen, Madame Elizabeth, the two children, Maria Theresa being about ten years of age and Louis seven, with their governess, took their seats in the large carriage. One of the body-guard of the king, disguised as a servant, sat on the box, and another, as footman, sat behind. M. de Vallory rode on horseback, that he might gallop forward and order the relays of horses. The waiting women of the queen, who, by the strangest infatuation, had been included in the party, took the other carriage. The Marquis of Bouillé, an energetic, heroic man, finding that he could not control the arrangements of the king, did every thing in his power to avert the suspicion which the strange-looking cortège would be likely to excite. He had a passport prepared, in which the governess was represented as a German baroness, Madame de Korff, traveling with her two children. The king was her valet-de-chambre, the queen her waiting-maid. The proverbial wealth of the German barons and the peculiar style of the equipage to which they were accustomed happily favored this idea.[274] The morning was just beginning to dawn as Count Fersen kissed the hands of the king and queen and left them to prosecute their perilous journey, while he took flight for the frontier through Flanders. The coach was drawn by six horses, who were driven at the utmost speed, relays of horses having been established at short stages. The sun at length rose bright and cheerful. The country was smiling in all the verdure of blooming June. Every revolution of the wheels was bearing them farther from Paris. It was hardly possible that their flight could be discovered until a late hour in the morning. There were no telegraphs in those days to send intelligence with lightning speed to arrest their flight. Having six or eight hours the start of their pursuers, and being abundantly supplied with fresh horses, escape seemed now almost certain. Hope began to cheer their hearts. Some slight interruptions had retarded their progress, and it was about three o'clock in the afternoon when they entered Chalons, some ninety miles from Paris. The queen, with an exultant smile, exclaimed, "All goes well. If we were to have been stopped at all it would have been before now." At Chalons they exchanged horses. The king now felt that he was safe, for the Marquis of Bouillé had posted detachments of troops at every important point between Chalons and Montmedy. With characteristic imprudence, as the carriage was surrounded with idlers at Chalons, the king put his head out of the window, showing his well-known face to the crowd. The postmaster instantly recognized the king, but, being himself an ardent Royalist, divulged not his secret, but aided in putting in the fresh horses, and ordered the postillions to drive on.