It was in the hotels that the surprise of the news brought
by Raoul was most sensibly felt.

In fact, the king and the court at Blois, that is to say, a
hundred horsemen, ten carriages, two hundred horses, as many
lackeys as masters -- where was this crowd to be housed?
Where were to be lodged all the gentry of the neighborhood,
who would gather in two or three hours after the news had
enlarged the circle of its report, like the increasing
circumference produced by a stone thrown into a placid lake?

Blois, as peaceful in the morning, as we have seen, as the
calmest lake in the world, at the announcement of the royal
arrival, was suddenly filled with the tumult and buzzing of
a swarm of bees.

All the servants of the castle, under the inspection of the
officers, were sent into the city in quest of provisions,
and ten horsemen were dispatched to the preserves of
Chambord to seek for game, to the fisheries of Beuvion for
fish, and to the gardens of Chaverny for fruits and flowers.

Precious tapestries, and lusters with great gilt chains,
were drawn from the cupboards; an army of the poor were
engaged in sweeping the courts and washing the stone fronts,
whilst their wives went in droves to the meadows beyond the
Loire, to gather green boughs and field-flowers. The whole
city, not to be behind in this luxury of cleanliness,
assumed its best toilette with the help of brushes, brooms,
and water.