Then he renewed his disguise as a soldier, but
this time dispensed with the greater part of his bandages, and set
out on his return, in high spirits at having so successfully
performed his journey.
He pursued his journey as far back as Blois without the slightest
interruption, but here his tramp came to a sudden termination.
Secure in the excellence of his French, Rupert had attempted no
disguise as to his face beyond such as was given by a strip of
plaister, running from the upper lip to the temple. He strode gaily
along, sometimes walking alone, sometimes joining some other
wayfarer, telling every one that he was from Bordeaux, where he had
been to see his parents, and get cured of a sabre cut.
As he passed through the town of Blois, Rupert suddenly came upon a
group of horsemen. Saluting as he passed--for in those days in
France no one of inferior rank passed one of the upper classes
without uncovering--he went steadily on.
"That is a proper looking fellow," one of the party said, looking
after him.
"By our Lady," exclaimed another, "I believe I have seen that head
and shoulders before. Yes, I feel sure.
"Gentlemen, we have made a prize. Unless I am greatly mistaken,
this is the villainous Englishman who it is believed aided that
malapert young lady to escape."
In another moment Rupert was surrounded. His hat was knocked off;
and the Duc de Carolan, for it was he, exclaimed in delight:
"I thought that I could not be mistaken.
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