"A mistake, as you see," Rupert laughed. "But I shall tell you all presently. First, how is mademoiselle?"

"Well, I trust," the marquis said; "but I have not heard of her for eighteen months. I have been a prisoner in the Bastille, and was only let out two months since, together with some other officers, in order to take part in the defence of Lille. Even then I should not have been allowed to volunteer, had it not been that the Duc de Carolan, Adele's persecutor, was killed; and his Majesty's plans having been thus necessarily upset, he was for the time being less anxious to know what had become of Adele."

"In that case you have to thank me for your deliverance," Rupert said; "for it was I who killed monsieur le duc, and never in my life did I strike a blow with a heartier goodwill."

"You!" the marquis exclaimed in astonishment; "but I might have guessed it. I inquired about his death when I reached Lille, and was told by an officer who was there that he was killed in an extraordinary combat, in which General Mouffler, a trooper, and himself were put hors de combat in sight of the whole army, by a deserter of demoniacal strength, skill, and activity. I ought to have recognized you at once; and no doubt should have done so, had I not heard that you were dead. I never was so shocked, dear boy, in all my life, and have done nothing but blame myself for allowing you to run so fearful a risk."

On arriving at the camp Rupert presented his prisoner to the Duke of Marlborough, who having, when Rupert rejoined, heard the story of his discovery in the Marquis de Pignerolles of his old friend Monsieur Dessin, received him with great kindness, and told him that he was free to go where he liked until arrangements could be made for his exchange. Rupert then took him to his tent, where they sat for many hours talking.

Rupert learned that after his escape from Lille the marquis was for three weeks confined to his bed. Before the end of that time a messenger brought him a letter from Adele, saying that she was well and comfortable. When he was able to travel he repaired at once to Versailles; having received a peremptory order from the king, a few days after Rupert left, to repair to the court the instant he could be moved. He found his Majesty in the worst of humours; the disappearance of Adele had thwarted his plan, and Louis the 14th was not a man accustomed to be baulked in his intentions. The news of Rupert's escape from Lille had further enraged him, as he connected it with Adele's disappearance; and the fact that the capture of Rupert had thrown no light upon Adele's hiding place had still further exasperated him.

He now demanded that the marquis should inform him instantly of her place of concealment. This command the marquis had firmly declined to comply with. He admitted that he could guess where she would take refuge; but that as he sympathized with her in her objection to the match which his Majesty had been pleased to make for her, he must decline to say a word which could lead to her discovery. Upon leaving the king's presence he was at once arrested, and conveyed to the Bastille.

Imprisonment in the Bastille, although rigorous, was not, except in exceptional cases, painful for men of rank. They were well fed and not uncomfortably lodged; and as the governor had been a personal friend of the marquis previous to his confinement, he had been treated with as much lenity as possible. After he had been a year in prison, the governor came to his room and told him that Rupert had been drowned by the overflowing of the moat at Loches, and that if therefore his daughter was, as it was believed, actuated by an affection for the Englishman in refusing to accept the husband that the king had chosen for her, it was thought that she might now become obedient. He was therefore again ordered to name the place of her concealment.

The marquis replied that he was not aware that his daughter had any affection for Rupert beyond the regard which an acquaintance of many years authorized; and that as he was sure the news would in no way overcome her aversion to the match with the Duc de Carolan, he must still decline to name the place where he might suspect that she had hidden herself.

He heard nothing more for some months; and then the governor told him privately that the duke was dead, and that as it was thought that Lille would be besieged, two or three other officers in the Bastille had pet.i.tioned for leave to go to aid in the defence. Had the duke still lived, the governor was sure that any such request on the part of the marquis would have been refused. As it was, however, his known military skill and bravery would be so useful in the defence, that it was possible that the king would now consent.

The marquis had therefore applied for, and had received, permission to go to aid in the defence of Lille.

Rupert then told his story, which excited the wonder and admiration of the marquis to the highest point. When he concluded, he said:

"And now, monsieur le marquis, I must say what I have never said before, because until I travelled with her down to Poitiers I did not know what my own feelings really were. Then I learned to know that which I felt was not a mere brotherly affection, but a deep love. I know that neither in point of fortune nor in rank am I the equal of mademoiselle; but I love her truly, sir, and the Chace, which will some day be mine, will at least enable me to maintain her in comfort.

"Monsieur le marquis, may I ask of you the hand of your daughter?"

"You may indeed, my dear Rupert," the marquis said warmly, taking his hand. "Even when in England the possibility that this might some day come about occurred to me; and although then I should have regretted Adele's marrying an Englishman, yet I saw in your character the making of a man to whom I could safely entrust her happiness. When we met again, I found that you had answered my expectation of you, and I should not have allowed so great an intimacy to spring up between you had I not been willing that she should, if she so wished it, marry you.

"I no longer wish her to settle in France. After what I have seen of your free England, the despotism of our kings and the feudal power of our n.o.bles disgust me, and I foresee that sooner or later a terrible upheaval will take place. What Adele herself will say I do not know, but imagine that she will not be so obstinate in refusing to yield to the wishes of her father as she has been to the commands of her king.

"But she will not bring you a fortune, Rupert. If she marries you, her estates will a.s.suredly be forfeited by the crown. They are so virtually now, royal receivers having been placed in possession, but they will be formally declared forfeited on her marriage with you. However, she will not come to you a dowerless bride. In seven years I have laid by sufficient to enable me to give her a dowry which will add a few farms to the Chace.

"And now, Rupert, let us to sleep; day is breaking, and although your twenty-three years may need no rest, I like a few hours' sleep when I can get them."

Upon the following day the conversation was renewed.

"I think, Rupert, that my captivity is really a fortunate one for our plans. So long as I remained in France my every movement would be watched. I dared not even write to Adele, far less think of going to see her. Now I am out of sight of the creatures of Louis, and can do as I please.

"I have been thinking it over. I will cross to England. Thence I will make my way in a smuggler's craft to Nantes, where the governor is a friend of mine. From him I will get papers under an a.s.sumed name for my self and daughter, and with them journey to Poitiers, and so fetch her to England."

"You will let me go with you, will you not?" Rupert exclaimed. "No one can tell I am not a Frenchman by my speech, and I might be useful."

"I don't know, Rupert. You might be useful, doubtless, but your size and strength render you remarkable."

"Well, but there are big Frenchmen as well as big Englishmen,"

Rupert said. "If you travel as a merchant, I might very well go as your serving man, and you and I together could, I think, carry mademoiselle in safety through any odds. It will not be long to wait. I cannot leave until Lille falls, but I am sure the duke will give me leave as soon as the marshal surrenders the city, which cannot be very many days now; for it is clear that Vendome will not fight, and a desperate resistance at the end would be a mere waste of life."

So it was arranged, and shortly afterwards Rupert took his friend Major Dillon into his confidence. The latter expressed the wildest joy, shook Rupert's hand, patted him on the back, and absolutely shouted in his enthusiasm. Rupert was astonished at the excess of joy on his friend's part, and was mystified in the extreme when he wound up:

"You have taken a great load off my mind, Rupert. You have made Pat Dillon even more eternally indebted to you than he was before."

"What on earth do you mean, Dillon?" Rupert asked. "What is all this extraordinary delight about? I know I am one of the luckiest fellows in the world, but why are you so overjoyed because I am in love?"

"My dear Rupert, now I can tell you all about it. I told you, you know, that in the two winters you were away I went, at the invitation of Mynheer van Duyk, to Dort; in order that he might hear whether there was any news of you, and what I thought of your chance of being alive, and all that; didn't I?"

"Yes, you told me all that, Dillon; but what on earth has that got to do with it?"

"Well, my boy, I stopped each time something like a month at Dort, and, as a matter of course, I fell over head and ears in love with Maria van Duyk. I never said a word, though I thought she liked me well enough; but she was for ever talking about you and praising you, and her father spoke of you as his son; and I made sure it was all a settled thing between you, and thought what a sly dog you were never to have breathed a word to me of your good fortune. If you had never come back I should have tried my luck with her; but when you turned up again, glad as I was to see you, Rupert, I made sure that there was an end of any little corner of hope I had had.

"When you told me about your gallivanting about France with a young lady, I thought for a moment that you might have been in love with her; but then I told myself that you were as good as married to Maria van Duyk, and that the other was merely the daughter of your old friend, to whom you were bound to be civil. Now I know you are really in love with her, and not with Maria, I will try my luck there, that is, if she doesn't break her heart and die when she hears of the French girl."

"Break her heart! Nonsense, man!" Rupert laughed. "She was two years older than I was, and looked upon me as a younger brother.

Her father lamented that I was not older, but admitted that any idea of a marriage between us was out of the question. But I don't know what he will say to your proposal to take her over to Ireland."

"My proposal to take her over to Ireland!" repeated Dillon, in astonishment. "I should as soon think of proposing to take her to the moon! Why, man, I have not an acre of ground in Ireland, nor a shilling in the world, except my pay. No; if she will have me, I'll settle down in Dort and turn Dutchman, and wear big breeches, and take to being a merchant."

Rupert burst into a roar of laughter.

"You a merchant, Pat! Mynheer van Duyk and Dillon! Why, man, you'd bring the house to ruin in a year. No, no; if Maria will have you, I shall be delighted; but her fortune will be ample without your efforts--you who, to my positive knowledge, could never keep your company's accounts without the aid of your sergeant."

Dillon burst out laughing, too.

"True for you, Rupert. Figures were never in my line, except it is such a neat figure as Maria has. Ah, Rupert! I always thought you a nice lad; but how you managed not to fall in love with her, though she was a year or so older than yourself, beats Pat Dillon entirely. Now the sooner the campaign is over, and the army goes into winter quarters, the better I shall be pleased."

It was a dark and squally evening in November, when La Belle Jeanne, one of the fastest luggers which carried on a contraband trade between England and France, ran up the river to Nantes. She had been chased for twelve hours by a British war ship, but had at last fairly outsailed her pursuers, and had run in without mishap.

On her deck were two pa.s.sengers; Maitre Antoine Perrot, a merchant, who had been over to England to open relations with a large house who dealt in silks and cloths; and his servant Jacques Bontemps, whose st.u.r.dy frame and powerful limbs had created the admiration of the crew of the Belle Jeanne.

An hour later the lugger was moored against the quay, her crew had scattered to their homes, and the two travellers were housed in a quiet cabaret near, where they had called for a private room.

Half an hour later Maitre Perrot left the house, inquired the way to the governor's residence, left a letter at the door, and then returned to the cabaret. At nine o'clock a cloaked stranger was shown into the room. When the door was closed he threw off his hat and cloak.

"My dear marquis, I am delighted to see you; but what means this wild freak of yours?"

"I will tell you frankly, de Brissac."

And the Marquis de Pignerolles confided to the Count de Brissac his plan for getting his daughter away to England.

"It is a matter for the Bastille of his most Christian Majesty, should he learn that I have aided you in carrying your daughter away; but I will risk it, marquis, for our old friendship's sake.

You want a pa.s.sport saying that Maitre Antoine Perrot, merchant of Nantes, with his servant, Jacques Bontemps, is on his way to Poitiers, to fetch his daughter, residing near that town, and that that damsel will return with him to Nantes?"

"That is it, de Brissac. What a pity that it is not with us as in England, where every man may travel where he lists without a soul asking him where he goes, or why."

"Ah! Well, I don't know," said the count, who had the usual aristocratic prejudice of a French n.o.ble of his time. "It may suit the islanders of whom you are so fond, marquis, but I doubt whether it would do here. We should have plotters and conspirators going all over the country, and stirring up the people."

"Ah! Yes, count; but if the people had nothing to complain of, they would not listen to the conspirators. But there, I know we shall never agree about this. When the war is over you must cross the channel, and see me there."

"No, no," de Brissac said, laughing. "I love you, de Pignerolles, but none of the fogs and mists of that chilly country for me. His Majesty will forgive you one of these days, and then we will meet at Versailles."