The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars by G. A. Henty (little red riding hood ebook free TXT) π
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- Author: G. A. Henty
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"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?"
"Oh, he will arrange that easily enough. The soldiers will all sleep soundly enough after this march; besides, they will not, in all probability, be near his quarters, so he will only have to say that he found you were too ill to continue the journey, and had therefore had you carried to a confrere of his. You must be under no fear, Rupert, of any evil consequences to anyone, for no one will ever connect you with the convoy. You will be missed at roll call, but that will go for nothing. When you are absent again at six o'clock, you will be reported as missing. Then it will be supposed that you are hid in the city, and a sharp watch will be set at the gates; but after a few days it will be supposed that you have either got over the walls, or that you have gone out disguised as a peasant. A prisoner of war more or less makes but little difference, and there will never be any fuss about it."
Soon after dusk on the evening of the 13th of October, Adele de Pignerolles was sitting alone in a large room in the house of Madame de Soissons. A wood fire was blazing, and even in that doubtful light it might have been seen that the girl's eyes were swollen with crying. She was not crying now, but was looking into the fire with a set, determined look in her face.
"I don't care," she said; "they may kill me at Saint Marie, but I will never say yes. Oh, if papa were but here."
At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a bright-looking waiting maid entered.
"A note, mademoiselle, from Mademoiselle d'Etamps--and mademoiselle," and she put her finger mysteriously to her lips, "it is a new lackey has brought it. I told him to come again in ten minutes for an answer; for I thought it better he should not come in to be looked at by Francois and Jules."
"Why not, Margot?" Adele asked in great surprise.
"Because, mademoiselle, he seemed to me--I may be wrong, you know--but he seemed to me very, very like--"
"Like whom, Margot? How mysterious you are."
"Like the English officer," Margot said, with an arch nod.
Adele leapt to her feet.
"You must be mad, Margot. There, light a candle."
But without waiting, Adele knelt down close to the fire, and broke open the letter.
A flush, even ruddier than that given by the fire, mounted over her face.
"It is him, Margot. He has come from my father. Now we are to do what I told you about. We are to go off tonight under his charge, to your mother's, my dear old nurse, and there I am to live with you, and be as your cousin, till papa can get me out of the country."
"And is the young officer to live there till the marquis comes?" Margot asked, slyly. "He might pass as another cousin, mademoiselle."
"How foolish you are, Margot, and this is no time for folly. But listen. My father says, 'Rupert will be in the street round the corner, with three horses, at eleven o'clock. You and Margot are to be dressed in the boys' clothes that I bade you prepare. Take in bundles two of Margot's dresses. Do not be afraid to trust yourself with Rupert Holliday. Regard him as a brother; he has all my confidence and trust.'"
"We must remember that," Margot said.
"Remember what, Margot?"
"Only that you are to regard him as a brother, mademoiselle."
"Margot, Margot, I am surprised at you, joking like a child when we have a terrible business before us. But indeed I feel so happy at the thought of escape from that terrible convent, that I could joke like a child also."
"You had better write a line for him, mademoiselle. It was from chance that I happened to be in the hall when he rang; and we don't want him to come in to be stared at by Francois while you write an answer."
Quickly Adele sat down at a table, and wrote:
"At the hour and place named, expect us--Yours, trustfully, Adele."
As the clock struck eleven two slight figures stole noiselessly out of the garden gate of Madame de Soissons' house at Versailles. The town was hushed in sleep, and not a sound was moving in the street. They carried bundles with them, and walked with rapid steps to a small lane which led off the street by the side of the garden wall. It was quite dark, and they could see nothing, but a voice said:
"Adele!"
"Rupert!" one of the figures answered, in shy, trembling tones.
"Please stay where you are," Rupert said. "It is lighter in the street."
The horses were led forth noiselessly, for Rupert had fastened cloths round their feet, to prevent the iron shoes sounding on the round pebbles which paved the streets.
Not a word was said. There was a warm clasp of the hand, and Rupert lifted Adele into the saddle. Margot climbed into another, and the three rode rapidly down the streets. Not a word was spoken until they were in the open country.
"Thank God, you are safe thus far, Adele. The last time I helped you on to a horse was the day you went out to see my hawk kill a heron."
"Oh, Rupert," the girl said, "it seems like a dream. But please do not let us talk yet about ourselves. Tell me about Papa. How is he?"
Rupert told her; and gradually as they talked the excitement and agitation passed off.
"And where did you get the horses, Rupert?"
"The one I am riding is Louis d'Etamps'," he said, "the others are your father's. I brought orders from him to his steward in Paris, that two of his best horses were to be sent this morning to a stable in Versailles, and left there, and that a person with an order from him would call for them."
"I cannot see you in the least. Are you dressed as Monsieur d'Etamps' lackey still?"
"No, I am now a quiet country gentleman, riding down from Paris with my two sons, who have been up with me to see their aunt who lives in the Rue du Tempe."
"Talk French, please, Rupert. Margot will understand then; and she is so brave and good, and shares my danger, so she ought to be as one of us."
Adele's spirits rose as they got farther from Versailles, and they talked and laughed cheerfully, but in low tones.
Three miles from Versailles, as they rode past a crossroad, two mounted men dashed out suddenly.
"Stand, in the king's name! Who are you?"
"We are travellers," Rupert said, quietly, "and go where we will. Who are you?"
"We are guards of the court, and we must know who you are before we suffer you to pass. None ride at night near Versailles but with a pass."
"I am an exception then," Rupert said, "and I advise you not to interfere with us;" and he urged his horse a few feet in advance of his companions.
One of the horsemen seized his bridle, while another drew a pistol.
Rupert's sword leaped from its scabbard and cut down the man who held the rein. The other fired, but Rupert threw himself forward on the horse's neck and the bullet whizzed over his head. He rode at the garde, and with a heavy blow with the pommel of the sword struck him senseless from his horse.
"Now," he said to Adele, "we can ride on again. You are not frightened, I hope?"
"Not so frightened as I was the first time you drew sword in my behalf," the girl said; "but it is very dreadful. Are they killed, Rupert?"
"Not a bit of it," Rupert said; "one has got a gash on the head which will cost him a crown in plaister, the other may have lost some teeth. It would have been wise to have killed them, for their tale in the morning is likely to be regarded as throwing some light upon your disappearance; but I could not kill men who were only doing their duty. At any rate we have twelve hours' start, even if they take up the clue and pursue us on this line tomorrow.
"It is about ten miles this side of Poitiers that your mother lives, is it not, Margot?"
"Yes, Monsieur Rupert. How surprised she will be at my arrival with my cousins."
"Oh, we are both your cousins, are we, Margot?"
"Mademoiselle Adele is to pass as my cousin, monsieur, and I suppose you must be either another cousin, or else her brother."
"Margot," Adele said, "you chatter too much."
"Do I, mademoiselle? It is better than riding through the darkness without speaking. I was very glad when the cloths were off the horses' feet, for we seemed like a party of ghosts."
"How long shall we be getting there?" Adele asked, presently.
"Six days, if we do it all with the same horses," Rupert said; "and I am afraid to hire horses and leave them on the way, as it would look as if we were pressed for time. No, for today we are safe--but for today only. Messengers will be sent in all directions with orders for our arrest. They will take fresh relays of horses; and really our only hope is in disguise. I propose that we go the first stage without halting as far as our horses will carry us. I think we can get to Orleans. There we will put them up, and take rooms. Then Margot must slip out in her own dress and buy two peasant girls' attire, and I will pick up
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