"My dear, dear lad," the Marquis of Pignerolles said, as he made
his way with Rupert back out of the throng in the captured outwork;
"what miracle is this? I heard that you had died at Loches."
"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 petitioned 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 nobles 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 assuredly 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
assumed 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 passengers; 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 sturdy 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 passport 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 noble 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."
"So be it," the marquis said. "When Adele's estates have been
bestowed upon one of his favourites, he will have no reason for
keeping me in exile; but we shall see."
"You shall have your papers without fail tomorrow early, so you can
safely make your preparations. And now goodbye, and may fortune
attend you."
It was not until noon next day that Maitre Perrot and his servant
rode out from Nantes, for they had had some trouble in obtaining
two horses such as they required, but had at last succeeded in
obtaining two animals of great strength and excellent breeding. The
saddle of Maitre Perrot had a pillion attached behind for a lady,
but this was at present untenanted.
Both travellers carried weapons, for in those days a journey across
France was not without its perils. Discharged soldiers, escaped
serfs, and others, banded together in the woods and wild parts of
France; and although the governors of provinces did their best to
preserve order, the force at their command was but small, as every
man who could be raised was sent to the frontier, which the fall of
Lille had opened to an invading army.
Until they were well beyond Nantes, Rupert rode behind the marquis,
but when they reached the open country he moved up alongside.
"I do not know when I have enjoyed a week so much as the time we
spent at the Chace, Rupert. Your grandfather is a wonderful old
man, as hard as iron; and your lady mother was most kind and
cordial. She clearly bore no malice for my interference in her love
affair some years ago."
"Upon the contrary," Rupert said. "I am sure that she feels
grateful to you for saving her from the consequences of her
infatuation."
Six days later, the travellers rode into Poitiers. They had met
with no misadventure on the way. Once or twice they had met parties
of rough fellows, but the determined bearing and evident strength
of master and man had prevented any attempt at violence.
The next morning they started early, and after two hours' riding
approached the cottage where Adele had for two years lived with her
old nurse. They dismounted at the door.
"Go you in, sir," said Rupert. "I will hold the horses. Your
daughter will naturally like best to meet you alone."
The marquis nodded, lifted the latch of the door, and went in.
There was a pause, and then he heard a cry of "Father!" just as the
door closed. In another instant it opened again, and Margot stole
out, escaping to leave her mistress alone with her father.
She ran down to the gate, looked at Rupert, and gave a little
scream of pleasure, leaping and clapping her hands.
"I said so, monsieur. I always said so. 'When monsieur le marquis
comes, mademoiselle, you be sure monsieur l'Anglais will come with
him.'"
"And what did mademoiselle used to say?"
"Oh, she used to pretend she did not believe you would. But I knew
better. I knew that when she said, over and over again, 'Is my
father never coming for me?' she was thinking of somebody else. And
are you come to take her away?"
Rupert nodded.
The girl's face clouded.
"Oh, how I shall miss her! But there, monsieur, the fact is--the
fact is--"
"You need not pretend to be shy," Rupert said, laughing. "I can
guess what 'the fact is.' I suppose that there is somebody in your
case too, and that you are just waiting to be married till
mademoiselle goes."
Margot laughed and coloured, and was going to speak, when the door
opened, and the marquis beckoned him in.
"Mr. Holliday," he said, as Rupert on entering found Adele leaning
on her father's shoulder, with a rosy colour, and a look of
happiness upon her face. "I have laid my commands upon my daughter,
Mademoiselle Adele de Pignerolles, to receive you as her future
husband, and I find no disposition whatever on her part to defy my
authority, as she has that of his Majesty.
"There, my children, may you be happy together!"
So saying, he left the room, and went to look after the horse,
leaving Adele and Rupert to their new-found happiness.