“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.