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.
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