a trooper who had been killed in a skirmish two days before, and from the armourer he got a sword, cuirass, and pistols.  As to riding breeches there was no trouble, for several of the officers had garments which would fit him, but for a regimental coat he could obtain nothing which was in any way large enough.  Hugh was therefore dispatched to Halle to purchase a riding coat of the best fashion and largest size that he could find, and a hat as much as possible in conformity with those generally worn.

An hour or two later Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday rode over.  The news of the singular fight on the ground between the armies, and of the reappearance of the famous “little cornet of the 5th dragoons” having spread apace through the army.

Joyous and hearty were the greetings, and after a while, the party being joined by Dillon, Rupert gave his three friends a full account of his adventures, omitting some of the particulars which he had not deemed it expedient to speak of in public.

“I understand now,” Lord Fairholm said, “the change in your face which struck me.”

“Is my face changed?” Rupert said.  “It does not seem to me that I have changed in face a bit since I joined, six years ago.”

“It is not in features, but in expression.  You look good tempered now, Rupert, even merry when you smile, but no man could make a mistake with you now.  There is, when you are not speaking, a sort of intent look upon your face, intent and determined—­the expression which seems to tell of great danger expected and faced.  No man could have gone through that two months in the dungeon of Loches and come out unchanged.  All the other dangers you have gone through—­and you always seem to be getting into danger of some kind—­were comparatively sharp and sudden, and a sudden peril, however great, may not leave a permanent mark; but the two months in that horrible den, from which no other man but yourself would deem escape possible, could not but change you.

“When you left us, although you were twenty, you were in most things still a boy; there is nothing boyish about you now.  It is the same material, but it has gone through the fire.  You were good iron, very tough and strong, but you could be bent.  Now, Rupert, you have been tried in the furnace and have come out steel.”

“You are very good to say so,” Rupert said, smiling, “but I don’t feel all that change which you speak of.  I hope that I am just as much up to a bit of fun as ever I was.  At present I strike you perhaps as being more quiet; but you see I have hardly spoken to a soul for eighteen months, and have got out of the way rather.  All that I do feel is, that I have gained greatly in strength, as that unfortunate French trooper found to his cost today.

“But there, the trumpets are sounding; it’s too late for a battle today, so I suppose we have got a march before us.”

Chapter 22:  Oudenarde.