The diligence put them down at La Boule d’Or, a clean and well-kept inn, overlooking the river and from the windows of which could be seen the white facade of the Hotel de Ville and the numberless towers rising here and there above the old town.  After a night of refreshing sleep to Mr. Jefferson, but one full of misgivings and broken dreams to Calvert, the two gentlemen set forth in the morning on horseback, followed shortly after by Bertrand with light baggage, for Mr. Jefferson’s affairs would not permit him to remain more than twenty-four hours at Azay-le-Roi.  They rode slowly, at first, through the early sweetness of that September morning, scarcely disturbing the fine, white dust upon the broad road.  The level land stretched away before them like some tranquil, inland sea, and against the horizon tall, stately poplars showed like the slender masts of ships against the blue of sky and ocean.

“It is as though a whole world separated this peaceful valley from the agitation and uproar of Paris,” said Mr. Jefferson to Calvert.

“Yet even here revolt has already left its mark,” returned Calvert, pointing to the half-burnt ruins of a chateau just visible through an avenue of trees to the left.

In the early afternoon they came to Azay, and, passing quickly through the little village and out into the country again, they were soon at the entrance of the great park surrounding Azay-le-Roi.  Calvert never forgot the look of the great avenue of rustling poplars and the exquisite grace of the chateau as he and Mr. Jefferson rode up to it on that September afternoon.  A sunny stillness brooded over it; long shadows from the pointed turrets lay upon the fine white sand of the driveway and dipped along the gray walls of the chateau, which the hand of man had fretted with lace-like sculpture.  In an angle of the courtyard two idle lackeys in scarlet liveries and powdered hair played with a little terrier.  As Mr. Jefferson and Calvert approached, they ran forward, one taking the horses and the other opening the great entrance door for the two gentlemen and ushering them into the salon where a large company was amusing itself with cards, books, and music.  The old Duchess and d’Azay, who was down from Versailles for a few days, could not welcome the gentlemen warmly enough, and even Adrienne seemed so pleased to see them again that, for the first time since beginning the journey, Calvert felt some of his misgivings quieted and dared to hope that his embassy might not be unsuccessful.  He would have spoken to her that very evening, she was so gracious to him, but that the numerous company prevented any conversation alone.  Not only did guests arrive for dinner, but there were several families from the neighboring chateaux staying at Azay-le-Roi, frightened thither by rumors of outbreaks among the peasantry and the approach of brigands.

“They cannot frighten me from Azay-le-Roi,” says the Duchess, stoutly, to Mr. Jefferson.  “If they burn my house, ’twill be over my head, and as for the brigands, I believe in them no more than in the alleged plot of the Queen to blow up the Assembly.”