The spring took him close to the horse of the latter, and before the amazed soldier could again strike, Rupert had vaulted on to the horse, behind him.  Then using his immense strength—­a strength brought to perfection by his exercise at Loches, and his work in lifting sacks as a miller’s man—­he seized with both hands the French soldier by the belt, lifted him from the seat, and threw him backwards over his head, the man flying through the air some yards before he fell on the ground with a heavy crash.  Driving his heels into the horse, he rode him straight at the French general, as the latter—­who had dashed forward as Rupert unseated the trooper—­came at him.  Rupert received a severe cut on the left shoulder, but the impetus of the heavier horse and rider rolled the French officer and his horse on to the ground.  Rupert shifted his seat into the saddle, leapt the fallen horse, and stooping down seized the officer by his waist belt, lifted him from the ground as if he had been a child, threw him across the horse in front of him, and galloped forward towards the allied lines, amid a perfect roar of cheering, just as a British cavalry regiment rode out from between the infantry to check a body of French dragoons who were galloping up at full speed from their side.

With a thundering cheer the British regiment reined up as Rupert rode up to them, the French dragoons having halted when they saw that the struggle was over.

“Why, as I live,” shouted Colonel Forbes, “it’s the little cornet!”

“The little cornet!  The little cornet!” shouted the soldiers, and waved their swords and cheered again and again, in wild enthusiasm; as Colonel Forbes, Lauriston, Dillon, and the other officers, pressed forward to greet their long-lost comrade.

Before, however, a word of explanation could be uttered, an officer rode up.

“The Duke of Marlborough wishes to see you,” he said, in French.

“Will you take charge of this little officer, colonel?” Rupert said, placing the French general, who was half suffocated by pressure, rage, and humiliation, on his feet again.

“Now, sir,” he said to the officer, “I am with you.”

The latter led the way to the spot where the duke was sitting on horseback surrounded by his staff, on rising ground a hundred yards behind the infantry regiment.

“My Lord Duke,” Rupert said, as he rode up, “I beg to report myself for duty.”

“Rupert Holliday!” exclaimed the duke, astonished.  “My dear boy, where do you come from, and where have you been?  I thought I was looking at the deeds of some modern Paladin, but now it is all accounted for.

“I wrote myself to Marshal Villeroi to ask tidings of you, and to know why you were not among the officers exchanged; and I was told that you had escaped from Lille, and had never been heard of since.”

“He never heard of me, sir, but his Majesty of France could have given you further news.  But the story is too long for telling you now.”