you will do her harm by compromising her still further, in which
case the king might be so enraged, that he might order her to marry
the duke tomorrow."

"You are right. Thank you," Rupert said, quietly; "and I have
indeed, although most unwittingly, done harm. Why you should all
make up your minds I love Mademoiselle de Pignerolles I know not. I
have never thought of the matter myself. I am but just twenty, and
at twenty in England we are still little more than boys. I only
know that I liked her very much, just as I did when she was a
little girl."

"Oh, monsieur, but you are sly, you and l'Anglaise. So it was you
that she owned was her hero; and monsieur the marquis introduced
you as a stranger. Oh, what innocence!

"But there," she went on kindly, "you know your secret is safe with
us. And monsieur," and she leant forward, "although you would not
make love to me, I bear no malice, and will act as your deputy. A
very strict watch is certain to be kept over her. If you want to
write to her, enclose a note to me. Trust me, she shall have it.

"There, do not stop to thank me. I hear horses' hoofs. Gallop away,
please; it would ruin all were you caught here."

Rupert pressed the hands the two ladies held out to him to his
lips, mounted his horse, and rode furiously back to Versailles,
where he arrived just in time to leave again for Paris at the hour
beyond which their stay was not to be delayed.

Chapter 19: The Evasion.

Upon the ride from Versailles to Paris Rupert told the marquis what
he had done and heard.

"It is bad news, Rupert. I will ride back this afternoon, when I
have lodged you in Paris, and see Adele. If she objects--as I know
she will object to this marriage--I shall respectfully protest.
That any good will come of the protest I have no thought, but my
protest may strengthen Adele's refusal, by showing that she has her
father's approval.

"Adele will of course be treated coldly at first, then she will
have pressure put upon her, then be ordered to choose between a
convent and marriage. She will choose a convent. Now in some
convents she could live quietly and happily, in others she would be
persecuted. If she is sent to a convent chosen for her, it will be
worse than a prison. Her life will be made a burden to her until
she consents to obey the king's command. Therefore, my object will
be to secure her retreat to a convent where she will be well
treated and happy. But we will talk of th