The market carts were going through the gates; there was one laden with casks, and driven by an old man, with a boy beside him.

Grospierre was a bit drunk, but he thought himself very clever; he looked into the casks--most of them, at least--and saw they were empty, and let the cart go through." A murmur of wrath and contempt went round the group of ill-clad wretches, who crowded round Citoyen Bibot.
"Half an hour later," continued the sergeant, "up comes a captain of the guard with a squad of some dozen soldiers with him.

'Has a car gone through ?' he asks of Grospierre, breathlessly.

'Yes,' says Grospierre, 'not half an hour ago.' 'And you have let them escape,' shouts the captain furiously.

'You'll go to the guillotine for this, citoyen sergeant! that cart held concealed the CI-DEVANT Duc de Chalis and all his family!' 'What!' thunders Grospierre, aghast.