Then ended one of the most remarkable campaigns in the annals of
our own or any other history.
Chapter 24: Adele.
"My dear, dear lad," the Marquis of Pignerolles said, as he made
his way with Rupert back out of the throng in the captured outwork;
"what miracle is this? I heard that you had died at Loches."
"A mistake, as you see," Rupert laughed. "But I shall tell you all
presently. First, how is mademoiselle?"
"Well, I trust," the marquis said; "but I have not heard of her for
eighteen months. I have been a prisoner in the Bastille, and was
only let out two months since, together with some other officers,
in order to take part in the defence of Lille. Even then I should
not have been allowed to volunteer, had it not been that the Duc de
Carolan, Adele's persecutor, was killed; and his Majesty's plans
having been thus necessarily upset, he was for the time being less
anxious to know what had become of Adele."
"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.
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