From this hour Valmond was carried on by a wave of fortune.

Before vespers on that Sunday night, it was common talk that he was a true son of the Great Napoleon, born at St.Helena.
Why did he come to Pontiac?
He wished to be in retirement till his friends, acting for him in France, gave him the signal, and then with a small army of French-Canadians he would land in France.

Thousands would gather round his standard, and so marching on to Paris, the Napoleonic faith would be revived, and he would come into his own.

It is possible that these stories might have been traced to Parpon, but he had covered up his trail so well that no one followed him.
On that Sunday night, young men and old flocked into Valmond's chambers at the Louis Quinze, shook hands with him, addressing him as "Your Excellency" or "Your Highness." He maintained towards them a mysterious yet kindly reserve, singularly effective.

They inspected the martial furnishing of the room: the drum, the pair of rifles, the pistols, in the corner, the sabres crossed on the wall, the gold-handled sword that lay upon the table, and the picture of Napoleon on a white horse against the wall.