“May I see?” Louis d’Etamps said, for the young men were now fast friends.

Rupert handed him the note.

“What can you do, my poor boy?” he said.

“I will go and see the marquis, and let you know afterwards,” Rupert said.  “I shall do something, you may be sure.”

“If you do, you will want to escape from Lille.  I will see about the arrangements for that.  There is no time to be lost.  It is the 10th today.”

Rupert’s conversation with the Marquis de Pignerolles was long and interesting.  The marquis chafed at being confined to a sick bed and permitting Rupert to run the risk, which was immense, of the attempt alone.  However, as he could not move, and as Rupert was determined to do something, the marquis entered into all the plans he had drawn up, and intended to follow when such an emergency occurred.  He gave him a letter for Adele, and then they parted.

At his room Rupert found Louis.

“Quick,” he said, “there is no time to lose.  At ten o’clock a convoy of wounded leave for Paris.  The doctor in charge is a friend of mine and a capital fellow.  I have just seen him.  All is arranged.  Come along to my quarters, they are on the line that the convoy goes to the gate.  Jump in bed, then I will bandage up your head with plaisters so that not more than space to see and breathe out of will be left.  When the convoy arrives at the door, he will have an empty litter ready, will bring up four men who will lift you in, supposing you to be a wounded French officer, carry you down, and off you go with the convoy, not a soul save the doctor, you, and I, the wiser.  He has got a pass to leave the city with forty-eight sick and ten soldiers, and he has only to tell one of those marked to go that he is not well enough to be moved, and will go with the next convoy.  The messenger who brought the letter has started again, and has taken with him a led horse of mine.  He will be at the hostelry of Henri the 4th, at the place where you will stop tonight.  He will not know who you are, I have told him that a friend of mine will call for the horse, which I had promised to send him.

“When you halt for the night, the doctor will order you to be carried into his own room.  You will find two or three suits of clothes in the litter, a lackey’s suit of our livery which may be useful, a country gentleman’s, and one of mine.  When you are alone with the doctor and all is safe, get up, put on the country gentleman’s suit, say goodbye to him and go straight to the stables at the Henri the 4th.  You are the Sire de Nadar.  I have written a note here, telling you the horse will be there and you are to fetch it—­here it is.  The messenger will know my seal.”

“I am indeed obliged to you,” Rupert said, “you have thought of everything; but how will the doctor explain my not being forthcoming in the morning?”