This exception to the rule of rivalry was founded on reasons that are easy to understand.  From the Cave, the point on the route to England where a paved road (due to the luxury of the Princes of Conti) turned off to Isle-Adam, the distance is six miles.  No speculating enterprise would make such a detour, for Isle-Adam was the terminus of the road, which did not go beyond it.  Of late years, another road has been made between the valley of Montmorency and the valley of the Oise; but in 1822 the only road which led to Isle-Adam was the paved highway of the Princes of Conti.  Pierrotin and his colleague reigned, therefore, from Paris to Isle-Adam, beloved by every one along the way.  Pierrotin’s vehicle, together with that of his comrade, and Pierrotin himself, were so well known that even the inhabitants on the main road as far as the Cave were in the habit of using them; for there was always better chance of a seat to be had than in the Beaumont coaches, which were almost always full.  Pierrotin and his competitor were on the best of terms.  When the former started from Isle-Adam, the latter was returning from Paris, and vice versa.

It is unnecessary to speak of the rival.  Pierrotin possessed the sympathies of his region; besides, he is the only one of the two who appears in this veracious narrative.  Let it suffice you to know that the two coach proprietors lived under a good understanding, rivalled each other loyally, and obtained customers by honorable proceedings.  In Paris they used, for economy’s sake, the same yard, hotel, and stable, the same coach-house, office, and clerk.  This detail is alone sufficient to show that Pierrotin and his competitor were, as the popular saying is, “good dough.”  The hotel at which they put up in Paris, at the corner of the rue d’Enghien, is still there, and is called the “Lion d’Argent.”  The proprietor of the establishment, which from time immemorial had lodged coachmen and coaches, drove himself for the great company of Daumartin, which was so firmly established that its neighbors, the Touchards, whose place of business was directly opposite, never dreamed of starting a rival coach on the Daumartin line.

Though the departures for Isle-Adam professed to take place at a fixed hour, Pierrotin and his co-rival practised an indulgence in that respect which won for them the grateful affection of the country-people, and also violent remonstrances on the part of strangers accustomed to the regularity of the great lines of public conveyances.  But the two conductors of these vehicles, which were half diligence, half coucou, were invariably defended by their regular customers.  The afternoon departure at four o’clock usually lagged on till half-past, while that of the morning, fixed for eight o’clock, was seldom known to take place before nine.  In this respect, however, the system was elastic.  In summer, that golden period for the coaching business, the rule of departure, rigorous toward strangers, was often relaxed for country