“You must be anxious about your friends, Rupert.  I heard from Colonel Holliday just before I left England, begging me to cause further inquiries to be made for you.  He mentioned that your lady mother was in good health, but greatly grieving at your disappearance.  Neither of them believed you to be dead, and were confident you would reappear.

“And now, who is the French officer you brought in?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Rupert said, laughing.  “There was no time for any formal introduction, and I made his acquaintance without asking his name.”

An officer was at once sent off to Colonel Forbes to inquire the name of the prisoner.

“There is one of your assailants making off!” the duke said; and Rupert saw that the trooper had regained his feet and was limping slowly away.

“He fell light,” Rupert said; “he was no weight to speak of.”

“The other officer is killed, I think,” the duke said, looking with a telescope.

“I fancy so,” Rupert said, drily.  “I hit him rather hard.  He was the Duc de Carolan, and as he had given much annoyance to a friend of mine, not to mention a serious act of disservice to myself, I must own that if I had to kill a Frenchman in order to escape, I could not have picked out one with whom I had so long an account to settle.”

The officer now rode back, and reported that the prisoner was General Mouffler.

“A good cavalry officer,” the duke said.  “It is a useful capture.

“And now, Rupert, you will want to be with your friends.  If we encamp here tonight, come in to me after it is dark and tell me what you have been doing.  If not, come to me the first evening we halt.”

Rupert now rode back to his regiment, where he was again received with the greatest delight.  The men had now dismounted, and Rupert, after a few cordial words with his brother officers, went off to find Hugh.

He found the faithful fellow leaning against a tree, fairly crying with emotion and delight, and Rupert himself could not but shed tears of pleasure at his reunion with his attached friend.  After a talk with Hugh, Rupert again returned to the officers, who were just sitting down to a dinner on the grass.

After the meal was over Rupert was called upon to relate his adventures.  Some parts of his narrative were clear enough, but others were singularly confused and indistinct.  The first parts were all satisfactory.  Rupert’s capture was accounted for.  He said that in the person of the commanding officer he met an old friend of Colonel Holliday, who took him to Paris, and presented him at Versailles.

Then the narrative became indistinct.  He fell into disgrace.  His friend was sent back to the army, and he was sent to Lille.

“But why was this, Rupert,” Captain Dillon—­for he was now a captain—­asked.  “Did you call his Majesty out?  Or did you kiss Madame de Maintenon?  Or run away with a maid of honour?”