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The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars

by G. A. Henty · English · Gutenberg #17403 · 595,402 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars

Author: G. A. Henty


        
Release date: December 27, 2005 [eBook #17403]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17403

Credits: E-text prepared by Martin Robb


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CORNET OF HORSE: A TALE OF MARLBOROUGH'S WARS ***


E-text prepared by Martin Robb



THE CORNET OF HORSE:

A Tale of Marlborough's Wars

by

G. A. HENTY.

1914







Contents

   Chapter  1: Windthorpe Chace.
   Chapter  2: Rupert to the Rescue.
   Chapter  3: A Kiss and its Consequences.
   Chapter  4: The Sedan Chair.
   Chapter  5: The Fencing School.
   Chapter  6: The War Of Succession.
   Chapter  7: Venloo.
   Chapter  8: The Old Mill.
   Chapter  9: The Duel.
   Chapter 10: The Battle Of The Dykes.
   Chapter 11: A Death Trap.
   Chapter 12: The Sad Side Of War.
   Chapter 13: Blenheim.
   Chapter 14: The Riot at Dort.
   Chapter 15: The End of a Feud.
   Chapter 16: Ramilies.
   Chapter 17: A Prisoner of War.
   Chapter 18: The Court of Versailles.
   Chapter 19: The Evasion.
   Chapter 20: Loches.
   Chapter 21: Back in Harness.
   Chapter 22: Oudenarde.
   Chapter 23: The Siege of Lille.
   Chapter 24: Adele.
   Chapter 25: Flight and Pursuit.
   Chapter 26: The Siege of Tournai.
   Chapter 27: Malplaquet, and the End of the War.




Chapter 1: Windthorpe Chace.

"One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four--turn to your lady;
one, two, three, four--now deep reverence. Now you take her hand;
no, not her whole hand--the tips of her fingers; now you lead her
to her seat; now a deep bow, so. That will do. You are improving,
but you must be more light, more graceful, more courtly in your
air; still you will do.

"Now run away, Mignon, to the garden; you have madam's permission
to gather fruit.

"Now, Monsieur Rupert, we will take our lesson in fencing."

The above speech was in the French language, and the speaker was a
tall, slightly-built man of about fifty years of age. The scene was
a long low room, in a mansion situated some two miles from Derby.
The month was January, 1702, and King William the Third sat upon
the throne. In the room, in addition to the dancing master, were
the lad he was teaching, an active, healthy-looking boy between
fifteen and sixteen; his partner, a bright-faced French girl of
some twelve years of age; and an old man, nearer eighty than
seventy, but still erect and active, who sat in a large armchair,
looking on.

By the alacrity with which the lad went to an armoire and took out
the foils, and steel caps with visors which served as fencing
masks, it was clear that he preferred the fencing lesson to the
dancing. He threw off his coat, buttoned a padded guard across his
chest, and handing a foil to his instructor, took his place before
him.

"Now let us practise that thrust in tierce after the feint and
disengage. You were not quite so close as you might have been,
yesterday. Ha! ha! that is better. I think that monsieur your
grandfather has been giving you a lesson, and poaching on my manor.
Is it not so?"

"Yes," said the old man, "I gave him ten minutes yesterday evening;
but I must give it up. My sword begins to fail me, and your pupil
gets more skillful, and stronger in the wrist, every day. In the
days when I was at Saint Germains with the king, when the cropheads
lorded it here, I could hold my own with the best of your young
blades. But even allowing fully for the stiffness of age, I think I
can still gauge the strength of an opponent, and I think the boy
promises to be of premiere force."

"It is as you say, monsieur le colonel. My pupil is born to be a
fencer; he learns it with all his heart; he has had two good
teachers for three years; he has worked with all his energy at it;
and he has one of those supple strong wrists that seem made for the
sword. He presses me hard.

"Now, Monsieur Rupert, open play, and do your best."

Then began a struggle which would have done credit to any fencing
school in Europe. Rupert Holliday was as active as a cat, and was
ever on the move, constantly shifting his ground, advancing and
retreating with astonishing lightness and activity. At first he was
too eager, and his instructor touched him twice over his guard.
Then, rendered cautious, he fought more carefully, although with no
less quickness than before; and for some minutes there was no
advantage on either side, the master's longer reach and calm steady
play baffling every effort of his assailant.

At last, with a quick turn of the wrist, he sent Rupert's foil
flying across the room. Rupert gave an exclamation of disgust,
followed by a merry laugh.

"You always have me so, Monsieur Dessin. Do what I will, sooner or
later comes that twist, which I cannot stop."

"You must learn how, sir. Your sword is so; as you lunge I guard,
and run my foil along yours, so as to get power near my hilt. Now
if I press, your sword must go; but you must not let me press; you
must disengage quickly. Thus, you see?

"Now let us try again. We will practise nothing else today--or
tomorrow--or till you are perfect. It is your one weak point. Then
you must practise to disarm your opponent, till you are perfect in
that also. Then, as far as I can teach you, you will be a master of
fencing. You know all my coups, and all those of monsieur le
colonel. These face guards, too, have worked wonders, in enabling
you to play with quickness and freedom. We are both fine blades.

"I tell you, young sir, you need not put up with an insult in any
public place in Europe. I tell you so, who ought to know."

In the year 1702 fencing was far from having attained that
perfection which it reached later. Masks had not yet been invented,
and in consequence play was necessarily stiff and slow, as the
danger of the loss of sight, or even of death, from a chance thrust
was very great. When Rupert first began his lessons, he was so rash
and hasty that his grandfather greatly feared an accident, and it
struck him that by having visors affixed to a couple of light steel
caps, not only would all possibility of an accident be obviated
upon the part of either himself or his pupil, but the latter would
attain a freedom and confidence of style which could otherwise be
only gained from a long practice in actual war. The result had more
than equalled his expectations; and Monsieur Dessin had, when he
assumed the post of instructor, been delighted with the invention,
and astonished at the freedom and boldness of the lad's play. It
was, then, thanks to these masks, as well as to his teachers' skill
and his own aptitude, that Rupert had obtained a certainty, a
rapidity, and a freedom of style absolutely impossible in the case
of a person, whatever his age, who had been accustomed to fence
with the face unguarded, and with the caution and stiffness
necessary to prevent the occurrence of terrible accident.

For another half hour the lesson went on. Then, just as the final
salute was given, the door opened at the end of the room, and a
lady entered, in the stiff dress with large hoops then in fashion.
Colonel Holliday advanced with a courtly air, and offered her his
hand. The French gentleman, with an air to the full as courtly as
that of the colonel, brought forward a chair for her; and when she
had seated herself, Rupert advanced to kiss her hand.

"No, Rupert, you are too hot. There, leave us; I wish to speak to
Colonel Holliday and monsieur."

With a deep bow, and a manner far more respectful and distant than
that which nowadays would be shown to a stranger who was worthy of
all honour, Rupert Holliday left his mother's presence.

"I know what she wants," Rupert muttered to himself. "To stop my
fencing lessons; just as if a gentleman could fence too well. She
wants me to be a stiff, cold, finnikin fop, like that conceited
young Brownlow, of the Haugh.

"Not if I know it, madame ma mere. You will never make a courtier
of me, any more than you will a whig. The colonel fought at Naseby,
and was with the king in France. Papa was a tory, and so am I."

And the lad whistled a Jacobite air as he made his way with a rapid
step to the stables.

The terms Whig and Tory in the reign of King William had very
little in common with the meaning which now attaches to these
words. The principal difference between the two was in their views
as to the succession to the throne. The Princess Anne would succeed
King William, and the whigs desired to see George, Elector of
Hanover, ascend the throne when it again became vacant; the tories
looked to the return of the Stuarts. The princess's sympathies were
with the tories, for she, as a daughter of James the Second, would
naturally have preferred that the throne should revert to her
brother, than that it should pass to a German prince, a stranger to
her, a foreigner, and ignorant even of the language of the people.
Roughly it may be said that the tories were the descendants of the
cavaliers, while the whigs inherited the principles of the
parliamentarians. Party feeling ran very high throughout the
country; and as in the civil war, the towns were for the most part
whig in their predilection, the country was tory.

Rupert Holliday had grown up in a divided house. The fortunes of
Colonel Holliday were greatly impaired in the civil war. His
estates were forfeited; and at the restoration he received his
ancestral home, Windthorpe Chace, and a small portion of the
surrounding domain, but had never been able to recover the outlying
properties from the men who had acquired them in his absence. He
had married in France, the daughter of an exile like himself; but
before the "king came to his own" his wife had died, and he
returned with one son, Herbert.

Herbert had, when he arrived at manhood, restored the fortunes of
the Chace by marrying Mistress Dorothy Maynard, the daughter and
heiress of a wealthy brewer of Derby, who had taken the side of
parliament, and had thriven greatly at the expense of the royalist
gentry of the neighbourhood. After the restoration he, like many
other roundheads who had grown rich by the acquisition of forfeited
estates, felt very doubtful whether he should be allowed to retain
possession, and was glad enough to secure his daughter's fortune by
marrying her to the heir of a prominent royalist. Colonel Holliday
had at first objected strongly to the match, but the probable
advantage to the fortune of his house at last prevailed over his
political bias. The fortune which Mistress Dorothy brought into the
family was eventually much smaller than had been expected, for
several of the owners of estates of which the roundhead brewer had
become possessed, made good their claims to them.

Still Herbert Holliday was a rich man at his father-in-law's death,
which happened three years after the marriage. With a portion of
his wife's dowry most of the outlying properties which had belonged
to the Chace were purchased back from their holders; but Herbert
Holliday, who was a weak man, cared nothing for a country life, but
resided in London with his wife. There he lived for another six
years, and was then killed in a duel over a dispute at cards,
having in that time managed to run through every penny that his
wife had brought him, save that invested in the lands of the Chace.

Dorothy Holliday then, at the Colonel's earnest invitation,
returned to the Chace with her son Rupert, then five years old.
There she ruled as mistress, for her disposition was a masterful
one, and she was a notable housekeeper. The colonel gladly resigned
the reins of government into her hands. The house and surrounding
land were his; the estate whose rental enabled the household to be
maintained as befitted that of a county family, was hers; and both
would in time, unless indeed Dorothy Holliday should marry again,
go to Rupert. Should she marry again--and at the time of her
husband's death she wanted two or three years of thirty--she might
divide the estate between Rupert and any other children she might
have, she having purchased the estate with her dowry, and having
right of appointment between her children as she chose. Colonel
Holliday was quite content to leave to his daughter-in-law the
management of the Chace, while he assumed that of his grandson, on
whom he doted. The boy, young as he then was, gave every promise of
a fine and courageous disposition, and the old cavalier promised
himself that he would train him to be a soldier and a gentleman.

When the lad was eight years old, the old vicar of the little
church at the village at the gates of the Chace died, and the
living being in the colonel's gift as master of the Chace, he
appointed a young man, freshly ordained, from Oxford, who was
forthwith installed as tutor to Rupert.

Three years later, Colonel Holliday heard that a French emigre had
settled in Derby, and gave lessons in his own language and in
fencing. Rupert had already made some advance in these studies, for
Colonel Holliday, from his long residence in France, spoke the
language like a native; and now, after Mistress Dorothy's objection
having been overcome by the assurance that French and fencing were
necessary parts of a gentleman's education if he were ever to make
his way at court, Monsieur Dessin was installed as tutor in these
branches, coming out three times a week for the afternoon to the
Chace.

A few months before our story begins, dancing had been added to the
subjects taught. This was a branch of education which Monsieur
Dessin did not impart to the inhabitants of Derby, where indeed he
had but few pupils, the principal portion of his scanty income
being derived from his payments from the Chace. He had, however,
acceded willingly enough to Mistress Dorothy's request, his consent
perhaps being partly due to the proposition that, as it would be
necessary that the boy should have a partner, a pony with a groom
should be sent over twice a week to Derby to fetch his little
daughter Adele out to the Chace, where, when the lesson was over,
she could amuse herself in the grounds until her father was free to
accompany her home.

In those days dancing was an art to be acquired only with long
study. It was a necessity that a gentleman should dance, and dance
well, and the stately minuet required accuracy, grace, and dignity.
Dancing in those days was an art; it has fallen grievously from
that high estate.

Between Monsieur Dessin and the old cavalier a cordial friendship
reigned. The former had never spoken of his past history, but the
colonel never doubted that, like so many refugees who sought our
shore from France from the date of the revocation of the edict of
Nantes to the close of the great revolution, he was of noble blood,
an exile from his country on account of his religion or political
opinions; and the colonel tried in every way to repay to him the
hospitality and kindness which he himself had received during his
long exile in France. Very often, when lessons were over, the two
would stroll in the garden, talking over Paris and its court; and
it was only the thought of his little daughter, alone in his dull
lodgings in Derby, that prevented Monsieur Dessin from accepting
the warm invitation to the evening meal which the colonel often
pressed upon him. During the daytime he could leave her, for Adele
went to the first ladies' school in the town, where she received an
education in return for her talking French to the younger pupils.
It was on her half holidays that she came over to dance with Rupert
Holliday.

Mistress Dorothy did not approve of her son's devotion to fencing,
although she had no objection to his acquiring the courtly
accomplishments of dancing and the French language; but her
opposition was useless. Colonel Holliday reminded her of the terms
of their agreement, that she was to be mistress of the Chace, and
that he was to superintend Rupert's education. Upon the present
occasion, when the lad had left the room, she again protested
against what she termed a waste of time.

"It is no waste of time, madam," the old cavalier said, more firmly
than he was accustomed to speak to his daughter-in-law. "Rupert
will never grow up a man thrusting himself into quarrels; and
believe me, the reputation of being the best swordsman at the court
will keep him out of them. In Monsieur Dessin and myself I may say
that he has had two great teachers. In my young days there was no
finer blade at the Court of France than I was; and Monsieur Dessin
is, in the new style, what I was in the old. The lad may be a
soldier--"

"He shall never be a soldier," Madam Dorothy broke out.

"That, madam," the colonel said courteously, "will be for the lad
himself and for circumstances to decide. When I was his age there
was nothing less likely than that I should be a soldier; but you
see it came about."

"Believe me, Madam," Monsieur Dessin said deferentially, "it is
good that your son should be a master of fence. Not only may he at
court be forced into quarrels, in which it will be necessary for
him to defend his honour, but in all ways it benefits him. Look at
his figure; nature has given him health and strength, but fencing
has given him that light, active carriage, the arm of steel, and a
bearing which at his age is remarkable. Fencing, too, gives a
quickness, a readiness, and promptness of action which in itself is
an admirable training. Monsieur le colonel has been good enough to
praise my fencing, and I may say that the praise is deserved. There
are few men in France who would willingly have crossed swords with
me," and now he spoke with a hauteur characteristic of a French
noble rather than a fencing master.

Madam Holliday was silent; but just as she was about to speak
again, a sound of horses' hoofs were heard outside. The silence
continued until a domestic entered, and said that Sir William
Brownlow and his son awaited madam's pleasure in the drawing room.

A dark cloud passed over the old colonel's face as Mistress Dorothy
rose and, with a sweeping courtesy, left the room.

"Let us go into the garden, monsieur," he said abruptly, "and see
how your daughter is getting on."

Adele was talking eagerly with Rupert, at a short distance from
whom stood a lad some two years his senior, dressed in an attire
that showed he was of inferior rank. Hugh Parsons was in fact the
son of the tenant of the home farm of the Chace, and had since
Rupert's childhood been his playmate, companion, and protector.

"Monsieur mon pere," Adele said, dancing up to her father, and
pausing for a moment to courtesy deeply to him and Colonel
Holliday, "Monsieur Rupert is going out with his hawks after a
heron that Hugh has seen in the pool a mile from here. He has
offered to take me on his pony, if you will give permission for me
to go."

"Certainly, you may go, Adele. Monsieur Rupert will be careful of
you, I am sure."

"Yes, indeed," Rupert said. "I will be very careful.

"Hugh, see my pony saddled, and get the hawks. I will run in for a
cloth to lay over the saddle."

In five minutes the pony was brought round, a cloth was laid over
the saddle, and Rupert aided Adele to mount, with as much deference
as if he had been assisting a princess. Then he took the reins and
walked by the pony's head, while Hugh followed, with two hooded
hawks upon his arm.

"They are a pretty pair," Colonel Holliday said, looking after
them.

"Yes," Monsieur Dessin replied, but so shortly that the colonel
looked at him with surprise.

He was looking after his daughter and Rupert with a grave,
thoughtful face, and had evidently answered his own thought rather
than the old cavalier's remark.

"Yes," he repeated, rousing himself with an effort, "they are a
pretty pair indeed."

At a walking pace, Rupert Holliday, very proud of his charge, led
the pony in the direction of the pool in which the heron had an
hour before been seen by Hugh, the boy and girl chattering in
French as they went. When they neared the spot they stopped, and
Adele alighted. Then Rupert took the hawks, while Hugh went forward
alone to the edge of the pool. Just as he reached it a heron soared
up with a hoarse cry.

Rupert slipped the hoods off the hawks, and threw them into the
air. They circled for an instant, and then, as they saw their
quarry rising, darting off with the velocity of arrows. The heron
instantly perceived his danger, and soared straight upwards. The
hawks pursued him, sailing round in circles higher and higher. So
they mounted until they were mere specks in the sky.

At last the hawks got above the heron, and instantly prepared to
pounce upon him. Seeing his danger, the heron turned on his back,
and, with feet and beak pointed upwards to protect himself, fell
almost like a stone towards the earth; but more quickly still the
hawks darted down upon him. One the heron with a quick movement
literally impaled upon his sharp bill; but the other planted his
talons in his breast, and, rending and tearing at his neck, the
three birds fell together, with a crash, to the earth.

The flight had been so directly upwards that they fell but a short
distance from the pool, and the lads and Adele were quickly upon
the spot. The heron was killed by the fall; and to Rupert's grief;
one of his hawks was also dead, pierced through and through by the
heron's beak. The other bird was with difficulty removed from the
quarry, and the hood replaced.

Rupert, after giving the heron's plumes to Adele for her hat, led
her back to the pony, Hugh following with the hawk on his wrist,
and carrying the two dead birds.

"I am so sorry your hawk is killed," Adele said.

"Yes," Rupert answered, "it is a pity. It was a fine, bold bird,
and gave us lots of trouble to train; but he was always rash, and I
told him over and over again what would happen if he was not more
careful."

"Have you any more?" Adele asked.

"No more falcons like this. I have gerfalcons, for pigeons and
partridges, but none for herons. But I dare say Hugh will be able
to get me two more young birds before long, and it is a pleasure to
train them."

Colonel Holliday and Monsieur Dessin met them as they returned to
the house.

"What, Rupert! Had bad luck?" his grandfather said.

"Yes, sir. Cavalier was too rash, and the quarry killed him."

"Hum!" said the old man; "just the old story. The falcon was well
named, Rupert. It was just our rashness that lost us all our
battles.

"What, Monsieur Dessin, you must be off? Will you let me have a
horse saddled for yourself; and the pony for mademoiselle? The
groom can bring them back."

Monsieur Dessin declined the offer; and a few minutes later started
to walk back with his daughter to Derby.



Chapter 2: Rupert to the Rescue.

About a month after the day on which Rupert had taken Mademoiselle
Adele Dessin out hawking, the colonel and Mistress Dorothy went to
dine at the house of a county family some miles away. The family
coach, which was only used on grand occasions, was had out, and in
this Mistress Dorothy, hooped and powdered in accordance with the
fashion of the day, took her seat with Colonel Holliday. Rupert had
been invited, as the eldest son was a lad of his own age.

It was a memorable occasion for him, as he was for the first time
to dress in the full costume of the period--with powdered hair,
ruffles, a blue satin coat and knee breeches of the same material,
with silk stockings. His greatest pleasure, however, was that he
was now to wear a sword, the emblem of a gentleman, for the first
time. He was to ride on horseback, for madam completely filled the
coach with her hoops and brocaded dress, and there was scarcely
room for Colonel Holliday, who sat beside her almost lost in her
ample skirts.

The weather was cold, and Rupert wore a riding cloak over his
finery, and high boots, which were upon his arrival to be exchanged
for silver-buckled shoes. They started at twelve, for the dinner
hour was two, and there were eight miles to drive--a distance
which, over the roads of those days, could not be accomplished much
under two hours. The coachman and two lackeys took their places on
the box of the lumbering carriage, the two latter being armed with
pistols, as it would be dark before they returned, and travelling
after dark in the days of King William was a danger not to be
lightly undertaken. Nothing could be more stately, or to Rupert's
mind more tedious, than that entertainment. Several other guests of
distinction were present, and the dinner was elaborate.

The conversation turned chiefly on county business, with an
occasional allusion to the war with France. Politics were entirely
eschewed, for party feeling ran too high for so dangerous a subject
to be broached at a gathering at which both whigs and tories were
present.

Rupert sat near one end of the table, with the eldest son of the
host. As a matter of course they kept absolute silence in an
assembly of their elders, only answering shortly and respectfully
when spoken to. When dinner was over, however, and the ladies rose,
they slipped away to a quiet room, and made up for their long
silence by chatting without cessation of their dogs, and hawks, and
sports, until at six o'clock the coach came round to the door, and
Rupert, again donning his cloak and riding boots, mounted his
horse, and rode slowly off after the carriage.

Slow as the progress had been in the daytime, it was slower now.
The heavy coach jolted over great lumps of rough stone, and bumped
into deep ruts, with a violence which would shake a modern vehicle
to pieces. Sometimes, where the road was peculiarly bad, the
lackeys would get down, light torches at the lanterns that hung
below the box, and show the way until the road improved.

They had ridden about six miles, when some distance ahead the sound
of pistol shots, followed by loud shouts, came sharply on the ear.
Rupert happened to be in front, and with the love of adventure
natural to his age, he set spurs to his horse and dashed forward,
not hearing, or at any rate not heeding, the shouts of his
grandfather. Colonel Holliday, finding that Rupert was fairly off,
bade the lackeys get down, and follow him at a run with their
pistols, and urged the coachman to drive on with all possible
speed. Rupert was not long in reaching the scene of action; and
hurried the more that he could hear the clinking of sword blades,
and knew that the resistance of those assailed had not ceased.

On arriving at the spot he saw, as he expected, a carriage standing
by the road. One or two figures lay stretched on the ground; the
driver lay back, a huddled mass, on his seat; a man held high a
torch with one hand, while with the other he was striving to
recharge a pistol. Four other men with swords were attacking a
gentleman who, with his back to the coach, was defending himself
calmly and valiantly.

As he rode up Rupert unbuttoned his riding cloak, and threw it off
as he reined up his horse and dismounted. An execration broke from
the assailants at seeing this new arrival, but perceiving that he
was alone, one of the four men advanced to attack him.

Just as Rupert leapt from his horse, the man holding the torch
completed the loading of his pistol, and levelling it at him,
fired. The ball knocked off his hat just as he touched the ground,
and the man shouted:

"Kill him, Gervais. Spit him like a lark; he is only a boy."

Rupert drew his sword as the highwayman advanced upon him, and was
in a moment hotly engaged. Never before had he fenced with pointed
rapiers; but the swords had scarcely crossed when he felt, with the
instinct of a good fencer, how different were the clumsy thrusts of
his opponent to the delicate and skillful play of his grandfather
and Monsieur Dessin. There was no time to lose in feints and
flourishes; the man with the torch had drawn his sword, and was
coming up; and Rupert parried a thrust of his assailant's, and with
a rapid lunge in tierce ran him right through the body. Then with a
bound he dashed through the men attacking the traveller, and took
his stand beside him, while the torchbearer, leaving his torch
against a stump of a tree, also joined the combat.

Beyond a calm "I thank you, sir; your arrival is most opportune,"
from the traveller, not a word passed as the swords clashed and
ground against each other.

"Dash in, and finish him," shouted the man who appeared the leader
of the assailants, and three of them rushed together at the
traveller. The leader fell back cursing, with a sword thrust
through his shoulder, just at the moment when Rupert sent the sword
of the man who was attacking him flying through the air, and
turning at once, engaged one of the two remaining assailants of the
traveller. But these had had enough of it; and as the lackeys came
running up, they turned, and rushed away into the darkness. The
lackeys at Rupert's order discharged their pistols after them; but
a moment later the sound of four horses making off at full gallop,
showed that they had escaped.

"By my faith," the traveller said, turning to Rupert, and holding
out his hand, "no knight errant ever arrived more opportunely. You
are a gallant gentleman, sir; permit me to ask to whom I am so
indebted?"

"My name is Rupert Holliday, sir," the lad said, as the stranger
shook his hand warmly, and who, as the lackey approached with the
torch, exclaimed:

"Why, by the king's head, you are but a stripling, and you have run
one of these fellows through the body, and disarmed the other, as
neatly as I ever saw it done in the schools. Why, young sir, if you
go on like this you will be a very Paladin."

"I have had good masters, sir," Rupert said, modestly; "and having
been taught to use my sword, there is little merit in trouncing
such rascals as these."

"By my faith, but there is though," the stranger said. "It is one
thing to fence in a school with buttoned foils, another to bear
oneself as calmly and as well as you did. But here are your
friends, or I mistake not."

The coach came lumbering up, at a speed which for coaches in those
days was wonderful, and as it stopped Colonel Holliday leapt out,
sword in hand.

"Is it all over?" he exclaimed. "Is Rupert hurt?"

"It is all over, sir; and I have not so much as a scratch," Rupert
said.

"Sir," the stranger said, uncovering, and making a courtly bow to
the old cavalier, and to Mistress Dorothy, who was looking from the
open door, "your son--"

"My grandson," the colonel, who had also uncovered, corrected.

"Your grandson arrived in time to save me from grievous peril. My
coachman and lackey were shot at the first fire, and I fancy one of
the horses. I disposed of one of the rascals, but four others
pressed me hard, while a fifth held a light to them. Your grandson
ran one through in fair fight, and disarmed another; I disabled a
third, and they ran. I have to thank him for my life; and, if you
will permit me to say so--and I have been many frays--no man ever
bore himself more coolly, or used his sword more skilfully, than
did this young gentleman."

"I am very proud indeed to hear that the lad bore himself so well;
although I own that he caused some anxiety to his mother and
myself; by rushing forward alone to join in a fray of whose extent
he knew nothing. However, all is well that ends well.

"And now, sir, as your servants are killed, and but one horse
remains to your carriage, will you permit me to offer you for the
night the hospitality of Windthorpe Chace? I am Colonel Holliday,
sir, an old servant of King Charles the First--"

"I accept your offer, sir, as frankly as it is made. I have often
heard your name. I, sir, am George Churchill."

"The Earl of Marlborough!" exclaimed Colonel Holliday.

"The same," the earl said, with a smile. "I am not greatly loved,
sir; but my name will, I am sure, do me no ill service with one of
the men of Naseby."

"No, indeed!" Colonel Holliday said, warmly; "it is at once a
pleasure and an honour to me to entertain so great a general at the
Chace."

"And now," the earl said, "a truce to compliments. Pray resume your
seat in the coach, sir. I will cut loose the horse from the coach,
and will follow you in company with your grandson."

Colonel Holliday in vain tried to persuade the earl to take his
place in the carriage.

The latter, however, firmly declined, and the colonel took his
place in the coach, and drove off at once, to make preparation for
the reception of his guest. The earl had even declined the offer to
leave one or both of the lackeys behind. And when the carriage had
driven off, he said to Rupert, who had stood looking with
respectful admiration at the greatest general of the age:

"Now, young sir, let us have a look at this carrion; maybe their
faces will throw some light upon this affair."

So saying, he took the torch which had been left burning, and
turned over the body of the man he had slain before Rupert arrived
on the scene.

"I do not know him," he said, looking steadily at the dead man's
face.

"I know him," Rupert exclaimed in surprise. "He is a saddler of
Derby--a fierce nonconformist and whig, and a preacher at
conventicles. And to think of his being a highwayman!"

"An assassin is a better term," the earl said contemptuously. "I
guessed from their number it was my life, and not my money, that
they sought.

"Now let us look at the fellow you sent to his account."

Rupert hung back as they approached the man he had killed. In those
days of rebellions, executions, and duels, human life was regarded
but lightly. Still, to a lad of little over fifteen the thought
that he had killed a man, even if in fair fight, was very painful.

"Ah, I thought so," the earl said. "This is a creature of a
political enemy. I have seen him in his antechamber. So the order
came from London, and the tools were found here. That will do. Now
let us get this horse out of the traces. It is some years since I
have ridden barebacked.

"No, I thank you," in answer to Rupert's offer of his own horse; "a
saddle matters not one way or the other. There, now for the Chace;
and I shall not be sorry to fall to on the supper which, I doubt
not, the good gentleman your grandfather will have prepared."

So saying, he vaulted on his horse, and with Rupert rode quietly
along the road to the Chace. The great door opened as they
approached, and four lackeys with torches came out. Colonel
Holliday himself came down the steps and assisted the earl to
alight, and led the way into the house.

They now entered the drawing room, where Mistress Dorothy was
seated. She arose and made a deep courtesy, in answer to the even
deeper bow with which the earl greeted her.

"My lord," she said, "welcome to Windthorpe Chace."

"Madam," the earl said, bowing over the hand she extended, until
his lips almost touched her fingers, "I am indeed indebted to the
fellows who thought to do me harm, in that they have been the means
of my making the acquaintance of a lady whose charms turned all
heads in London, and who left the court in gloom when she retired
to the country."

Nowadays, such a speech as this would be thought to savour of
mockery, but gentlemen two hundred years since ordinarily addressed
women in the language of high-flown compliment.

Mistress Holliday, despite her thirty-seven years, was still very
comely, and she smiled as she replied:

"My lord, ten years' absence from court has rendered me unused to
compliments, and I will not venture to engage in a war, even of
words, with so great a general."

Supper was now announced, and the earl offered his hand to lead
Mistress Dorothy to the dining hall.

The meal passed off quietly, the conversation turning entirely upon
country matters. The earl did full justice to the fare, which
consisted of a stuffed carp, fresh from the well-stocked ponds of
the Chace, a boar's head, and larded capon, the two latter dishes
being cold. With these were served tankards of Burgundy and of
sherries. Rupert, as was the custom of the younger members of
families, waited upon the honoured guest.

The meal over, Mistress Holliday rose. The earl offered her his
hand and led her to the door, where, with an exchange of
ceremonious salutes, she bade him goodnight.

Then the earl accompanied Colonel Holliday to the latter's room,
hung with rapiers, swords, and other arms. There ceremony was laid
aside, and the old cavalier and the brilliant general entered into
familiar talk, the former lighting a long pipe, of the kind known
at present as a "churchwarden."

The earl told Colonel Holliday of the discovery that had been made,
that the attack was no mere affair with highwaymen, but an attempt
at assassination by a political rival.

"I had been down," he said, "at Lord Hadleigh's, where there was a
gathering of many gentlemen of our way of thinking. I left London
quietly, and thought that none knew of my absence; but it is clear
that through some spy in my household my enemies learned both my
journey and destination. I came down on horseback, having sent
forward relays. When I arrived last night at Hadleigh my horse was
dead lame. I misdoubt now 'twas lamed in the stable by one of the
men who dogged me. Lord Hadleigh offered me his coach, to take me
back the first stage--to the inn where I had left my servants and
had intended to sleep. I accepted--for in truth I sat up and talked
all last night, and thought to doze the journey away. Your
Derbyshire roads are, however, too rough, and I was wide awake when
the first shot was fired!"

"Do you think of taking steps to punish the authors of this
outrage?" Colonel Holliday asked.

"By no means," the earl answered. "I would ask you to send over a
man, with the horse I rode on and another, at daybreak. Let him put
them into the coach and drive back to Hadleigh, taking with him the
bodies of the lackey and coachman. With him I will send a note to
my lord, asking that no stir be made in the matter. We need not set
the world talking as to my visit to his house; but lest any
magistrate stir in the matter, I will leave a letter for him,
saying that the coach in which I travelled was attacked by
highwaymen, and that two of them, as well as the two servants, were
killed, and that no further inquisition need be made into the
matter. You may be sure that the other side will say naught, and
they will likely enough go back and carry off their dead tonight,
and bury them quietly."

"Very well, sir," Colonel Holliday said. "My grandson will ride
over with you in the morning to Ashby-de-la-Zouche. Two well-armed
lackeys shall accompany you."

"Oh, there is no fear of another attempt," the earl said, smiling.
"Besides, your grandson and I could fight a whole troop of
cutthroats by daylight. What a swordsman that boy is! And as cool
as a veteran! He is your pupil with the sword, I presume?"

"Only partly; he owes most of his skill to a French emigre, who
calls himself Monsieur Dessin, but who had, I suspect, a far higher
title across the water. He is a magnificent swordsman; and as I was
able to teach the lad a few thrusts which in their time did me good
service, and the boy has a clear eye, a cool head, and a firm
wrist, he can, young as he is, hold his own, go where he will."

"What do you mean to do with him? You ought to make a soldier of
him. It is the career of a gentleman, and we shall have a stirring
campaign on the Rhine next spring. He will have plenty of
opportunities to distinguish himself, and I need not say he will
have my best favour and protection!"

"I thank you heartily," the colonel said, "and doubt not that one
day the lad may claim the fulfilment of your promise. At present
his mother dreams of his being a Parliament man, and shining at
court. But you might as well expect to teach a falcon to dance.
Besides, the lad is a soldier heart and soul, and has, saving your
presence, little of the whig in him; and his mother will find ere
long, that if he goes to Parliament it will not be to vote as she
wishes.

"Besides," he said, moodily, "I foresee changes here which he,
young as he is, will not brook. If then at present I decline your
kind offer in his name, I think that the time is not far off when
he may remind you of it."

"Let him do so," the earl said, "and a commission in horse, foot,
or artillery is at his service. And now, with your permission, I
will to bed, for my eyelids are consumedly heavy."

Colonel Holliday rang a hand bell, and a lackey appeared with
lighted candles. Preceded by him the old cavalier accompanied his
guest to the door of his apartment, and seeing that a posset cup of
spiced cordial was steaming on the table, and that everything else
was properly prepared, left him to repose.



Chapter 3: A Kiss and its Consequences.

Three months have passed since the Earl of Marlborough's visit to
the Chace. Changes have taken place in England, for on the eighth
of March King William died from the effects of a fall from his
horse, and the Princess Anne ascended the throne. After her
accession, one of her first steps had been to shower honour upon
the Earl of Marlborough. A whig cabinet was formed, of which he and
Lord Godolphin were the leading spirits, two tories however--Harley
and Saint John--having seats in the ministry.

The Earl of Marlborough was her most trusted adviser. He had during
the reign of the late monarch been always a firm friend of the
Princess Anne, and was at one time regarded almost as a tory. He
had indeed plotted for the restoration of the Stuarts, and had
entered into negotiation with the French king for that purpose. The
plot having been discovered, he had with other noblemen been sent
to the Tower, and had continued in disgrace until a year after the
death of William.

Anne appointed him one of her ministers, and made the duchess her
most intimate friend. In fact, in politics the Duke of Marlborough
took no very strong part. He was attached to the Stuarts, for under
them he had at first risen to rank and honour; but he was a strong
Protestant, and therefore in favour of the maintenance of the Act
of Succession, fixing the reversion of the throne on the Elector of
Hanover, who, although not the nearest in the line of succession,
had been selected because the nearest heirs to the throne were
Catholics.

At the Chace things have gone on as before. Rupert has worked hard
at his lessons and his fencing, and Monsieur Dessin allows that,
save for his extra length of reach, he should have no advantage now
over his pupil. In the afternoon the lad spent his time with his
hawks, or practised firing with pistol or carbine, or roamed over
the country with Hugh.

Nevertheless, things had somehow changed. Colonel Holliday had
become gloomy and silent; and although he and his daughter-in-law
were studiously ceremonious and polite to each other, it was clear
that a cloud had risen between them. Rupert saw but little of this,
however, and was surprised one day when, as he was going out for a
ride, his grandfather said to him gravely:

"Take a turn in the garden with me, Rupert. I want to have a talk
with you.

"I think it well, Rupert," he said, after walking for some time in
silence, "to prepare you for what, if you have not guessed already,
you will be told ere long. Madam will no doubt herself inform you
of it; and it is as well, my lad, that you should be prepared, for
you might in your surprise say something hasty, and so cause a
breach which it would take long to heal."

Rupert looked in astonishment at his grandfather. He had not the
most remote idea of what was coming.

"You have doubtless noticed," Colonel Holliday went on, "the
frequency of Sir William Brownlow's visits here?"

"Yes, sir, I have noticed that, but I do not often see him. I keep
out of his way, for in truth I like him not, nor that son of his,
who, on the strength of his three years' seniority, looks down upon
me, and gives himself as many airs as madam my mother's peacock."

"And you have never even thought why he comes here so frequently?"

"No, sir," Rupert said, surprised; "it was no business of mine, and
I gave no single thought to it."

"He is a suitor for your lady mother's hand," Colonel Holliday
said, gravely.

"What!" almost shouted Rupert; "What, sir! He, with his sneering
face, dares to think--"

"My dear boy, he not only dares to think, but madam approves of the
thought, and has promised him her hand."

Rupert stood motionless.

"It shall not be," he burst out. "We must stop it, sir. Why do not
you?"

"I have no shadow of authority over Mistress Holliday," the old
colonel said. "As far as I could go, for your sake I have
gone--farther, perhaps, than was wise. It has been a great blow for
me, Rupert. I had hoped that in the time to come you would be
master of the Chace, and of all the broad acres I owned when young;
now it will never be. This house and the home farm are mine, and
will be yours, lad; but the outlying land will never come back to
the Chace again, but will go to swell the Haugh estate on the other
side. My lady can leave it as she likes. I have begged her to have
it settled upon you, but she has declined. She may have another
family, and, infatuated as she is with her suitor, she is more
likely to leave it to them than to you, especially as I fear that
you will not take kindly to the new arrangement."

"I will not submit to it, sir; I will not have it. I will insult
him, and force him to fight me," the lad gasped, his face white
with passion.

"No, Rupert, it won't do, lad. Were you four or five years older
you might interfere; now he would laugh at you for a headstrong
boy. You would gain his hate, and forfeit your mother's favour
utterly. It was because I feared an outbreak like this that I told
you today what you will in a few hours learn from her."

"What is to be done?" Rupert said, despairingly.

"Nothing, my boy. At her marriage, your mother will of course live
at the Haugh with Sir William. This house is mine, and if you
cannot get on at the Haugh, it will be always open to you."

"I will never set my foot inside the Haugh," Rupert said, firmly.
"My lady mother may leave her lands where she will; but if I am to
have them only at the price of being the humble servant of this new
father-in-law, I care not for them. He has an evil face,
grandfather, and I hated him before I knew what he came for."

"My boy," Colonel Holliday said, "we have all many things to go
through in life that we like not. This is your trial, and I trust
that you will come out of it worthily. Your respect and duty are
due to your mother. If you will not feign gladness that you do not
feel, I do not blame you; but when she tells you the news, answer
her with that respect which you owe her. She has a clear right to
choose for herself. She is still a comely dame, and no one will
blame her for taking another husband. To me and to you the thing
may seem hard, even unnatural, but it is not so. I like Sir William
no more than you do. Report says that he has deeply dipped into his
estates over the dice box; and your lady mother's estates, and the
sum that many years of quiet living has enabled her to save, are
doubtless items which he has not overlooked."

Rupert remained for some time silent.

"I will be perfectly respectful to my mother," he said, "but I will
not disguise my feelings. If I did so at first, it would in the end
be useless, for Sir William I could never treat with respect.
Sooner or later a quarrel would come, and I may therefore as well
have it understood first as last. The estates I care for only
because they were part of the Chace, and I know that they will
never be mine if this match is made. You feel that yourself, do you
not, sir?"

"Yes," the colonel said, reluctantly, "I have felt that all along."

"Very well, sir," Rupert said; "in that case I have nothing to gain
by affecting a satisfaction at this match. I shall respectfully but
firmly warn my mother against it, and tell her that if she persists
in it I will never put my foot under the roof of Sir William
Brownlow."

The next morning the servant brought word to Rupert, that Mistress
Holliday wished to speak to him in her room. Knowing what was
coming, Rupert went with slow steps and a heavy heart to the little
drawing room which was known as madam's room.

"Rupert," she said, as he stood respectfully before her, "I have
sent for you to tell you that I have accepted the offer of marriage
of Sir William Brownlow. Sir William has much court influence, and
will be able to do you much service, and he has promised me to look
upon you as a son of his own."

"Madam." Rupert said, calmly and respectfully, "that you should
marry Sir William Brownlow is a matter as to which, alas! I have no
right to say aught. I trust that the marriage will bring you
happiness, although my mind sorely misgives me as to whether it
will be so. As to myself, I decline Sir William's offer of
protection. It is enough for me that my fathers have for
generations owned Windthorpe Chace. Come what may, madam, I neither
acknowledge Sir William as my father, nor do I put a foot under his
roof."

"Malapert boy!" Mistress Holliday said angrily, "this is the
teaching of Colonel Holliday."

"Pardon me," Rupert said quietly. "Colonel Holliday begged me to
submit to what could not be helped; but I declined. This man is not
worthy of you, madam. Were you about to marry a good man, I would
gladly receive him as my father. I should be glad to know when out
in the world that you were cared for and happy; but this is not a
good man."

"Hush, sir," Mistress Holliday said. "I will not suffer you to
speak thus. And know, Rupert, if you do not know it already, that I
have absolute power over the estates of the Chace, and that if you
defy me I can leave them where I will."

"I know it, madam," Rupert said, sadly; "but this will in no way
alter my determination. If when you marry you give me your
permission to remain here with my grandfather, I will do so. If
not, I will go forth into the world to seek my fortune."

"Insolent boy!" Mistress Holliday said, furiously, "I have a mind
to call the lackeys in and bid them beat you."

"Madam," Rupert said, drawing himself up and touching his sword
lightly, "if you value your lackeys you will give no such order;
for the first man, lackey or lord, who lays his hand on me, I would
kill like a dog. With your permission, madam, I will retire, since
this morning I take my dancing lesson."

So saying, with a ceremonious bow Rupert left his mother's
presence. Monsieur Dessin and his daughter were already with
Colonel Holliday when Rupert joined them, and he went through his
dancing lesson as usual. Then Adele went as usual out into the
garden, and the fencing lesson began. When it was half over,
Rupert's brow clouded angrily, for he heard horsemen ride up to the
door, and felt sure who they were.

"Steady, my dear pupil, steady," Monsieur Dessin cried, as with
knitted brow Rupert pressed him hotly, fancying at the moment that
Sir William Brownlow stood in front of him.

"Peste!" he exclaimed, as the lad lunged and touched him in the
chest, "you are terrible, Monsieur!

"Colonel," he went on, dropping his sword, "I resign my post. I
have seen it coming for some time, and now it has arrived. Your
grandson is more than a match for me. He has all my skill, some of
yours, and has besides an activity and suppleness greater, I think,
than I ever had. You young islanders are trained to use hand and
eye; and although French lads may have as much activity, they have
far less strength, far less aptitude for such exercises. Besides,
there are other reasons.

"Go, Monsieur Rupert, and take care of my daughter; I would talk
with monsieur your grandfather."

Slowly, and brooding over the change which the late twenty-four
hours had made in his fortune, Rupert sought the garden. As he
sauntered along the walks he heard a cry, and looking up saw Adele
struggling in the arms of James Brownlow, who was trying to kiss
her, while a young fellow his own age stood by laughing. Rupert's
pent-up fury found a vent at last, and rushing forward, he struck
the aggressor so violent a blow between the eyes that, loosing his
hold of Adele, he fell to the ground.

"Thunder and lightning," the other young man exclaimed, drawing his
sword, "what means this, young cockerel?"

Rupert's sword flew from its sheath, but before he could cross it,
James Brownlow sprang to his feet and crying to his friend, "Stand
back! I will spit the saucy knave!" rushed upon Rupert.

The swords clashed, and almost simultaneously Brownlow's weapon
flew far through the air.

With a cry of fury he ran to fetch it, while his companion burst
into a coarse laugh.

Rupert did not move from his position, but stood passive, until his
antagonist again rushed at him.

"Mind this time," Rupert said, between his teeth, "for I will kill
you like a dog."

Warned by the lesson, James Brownlow fought more carefully; but he
was too enraged to continue these tactics long, and after a short
bout he lunged furiously. Rupert turned aside the point and
straightened his arm, and his antagonist fell to the ground, run
completely through the body.

"You are a witness that I killed him in fair fight," Rupert said,
turning to the young man, who gazed stupefied at the body of his
comrade, and then sheathing his sword bounded away to the stables.

Hugh was there.

"Quick, Hugh; saddle Ronald. I have just killed young Brownlow, and
must ride for it."

Hugh stood for a moment astonished, and then calling a helper ran
into the stables. In a minute he came out with two horses saddled.
Without a word Rupert leapt on one, while he vaulted on the other,
and the two dashed off at full speed.

"Where are you going, Master Rupert?"

"To London," Rupert said. "This is no place for me now. I killed
him in fair fight, and after warning; still, what with Sir William
and my lady mother, there will be no stopping here. You had better
ride back, Hugh, and tell my grandfather, privately, that I am
going to the Earl of Marlborough, to ask him to give me the
cornetcy he promised me."

"With your leave, Master Rupert, I shall do nothing of the sort.
Where you go, I go. My grandfather rode out with yours to Naseby,
and died there. My people have been the tenants of the Chace as
long as the Hollidays have been its lords, and have always followed
their master to the field. My old father would beat me out of the
house with a broom handle, if I went back and said I had let you go
to the wars alone. No, master Rupert, wherever you go, Hugh Parsons
goes too."

Rupert held out his hand, which his companion grasped, and the two
galloped rapidly along the road towards London.

In the meantime all was consternation at the Chace.

Colonel Holliday and Monsieur Dessin were deeply engaged in
conversation when Adele burst in upon them.

"Quick, quick!" she exclaimed, "Monsieur Rupert is fighting with a
wicked young man!"

"Then," said Monsieur Dessin grimly, "it will be very bad for the
wicked young man, whoever he is."

"Where are they?" exclaimed Colonel Holliday.

"In the garden," the girl said, bursting into tears. "The wicked
young man was rude to me, and wanted to kiss me, and Monsieur
Rupert knocked him down, and then they began to fight, and I ran
away."

Monsieur Dessin swore a very deep oath in French, and was about to
hurry out with Colonel Holliday. Then he stopped, and putting his
hand on the colonel's shoulder, said coldly:

"Do not let us hurry, sir. Monsieur Rupert has taken the matter in
his hands. It is as well that he should kill this fellow as that I
should have to do so."

Just at this moment they reached the door, and a young man came
running up to the house shouting:

"Young Mr. Brownlow is killed. Help! help!"

"I think, Monsieur Dessin," Colonel Holliday said, stopping, "it
would be as well if you and mademoiselle were for the present to
leave us. There will be trouble enough, and the fewer in it the
better. Sir William is a hot man, and you are not a cool one.
Enough mischief has been done."

"You are right," Monsieur Dessin said. "Will you tell Monsieur
Rupert that so long as my arm can lift a sword it is at his
service, and that I am his debtor for life.

"Come, Adele, let us leave by the front of the house."

Colonel Holliday now hurried out into the garden, just as Sir
William Brownlow, accompanied by his son's friend, rushed out of
the house, followed by some lackeys with scared faces.

Not a word was spoken as they ran to the spot where young Brownlow
was lying.

Sir William and Colonel Holliday both knelt beside him, and the
latter put his finger to his pulse.

"He is not dead," he said, after a moment. "Ralph, saddle a horse,
and ride with all speed to Derby for a doctor."

"Ay," Sir William said, "and tell the chief magistrate that he is
wanted here, with one of his constables, for that murder has been
done."

"You will do nothing of the sort," Colonel Holliday said.

"Sir William Brownlow, I make every excuse for you in your grief,
but even from you I will permit no such word to be used. Your son
has been wounded in fair fight, and whether he dies or not, alters
the circumstances no whit. My grandson found him engaged in
offering a gross insult to a young lady in the garden of my house.
He did what I should have done had I so found him--he knocked him
down. They fought, and your son was worsted. I think, sir, that for
the credit of your house you had best be quiet over the matter.

"Hush, sir," he went on sternly, seeing that the baronet was about
to answer furiously. "I am an old man, but I will put up with
bluster from no man."

Colonel Holliday's repute as a swordsman was well known, and Sir
William Brownlow swallowed his passion in silence. A door was taken
off its hinges, and the insensible young man was carried into the
house. There he was received by Mistress Holliday, who was vehement
in her reproaches against Rupert, and even against Colonel
Holliday, who had, as she said, encouraged him in brawling.

The colonel bent quietly before the storm; and leaving the wounded
man in the care of his daughter-in-law and the attendants, made his
way to the stables, to inquire what had become of Rupert. There he
found that a few minutes before, Rupert, accompanied by Hugh
Parsons, had ridden off at full speed, having placed valises and a
brace of pistols in the holsters on their saddles. The colonel was
glad to hear that Rupert had his humble friend with him, and
doubted not that he had made for London. With a somewhat lightened
heart he went back to the house.

After galloping fast for the first two miles, Rupert drew rein, for
he had now time to think, and was assured that even should Sir
William at once send into Derby for a warrant for his apprehension,
he would be across the borders of the county long before he could
be overtaken.

"Have you any money with you, Hugh?" he asked, suddenly; "for I
have not a penny with me."

"I have only two shillings, Master Rupert. I got that yesterday in
Derby for a nest of young owlets I found in the copse."

Rupert reined up his horse in dismay.

"Two shillings between us, Hugh! And it is 126 miles to London.
What are we to do?"

Hugh thought a moment. "We can't go on with that, sir. Do you take
these two shillings and ride on to the Red Dragon. You will be
outside the county there. I will ride back to father's. It's under
two miles, and I shall be back here in half-an-hour again. He will
give me any money he may have in the house. I may as well fill my
valise too, while I am about it; and he's got a pair of pistols,
too, that he will give me."

It was clearly the best course to take, and Rupert trotted forward
on his way, while Hugh galloped back at full speed. In a quarter of
an hour the latter drew rein at his father's door.

"Hullo, Hugh, lad," the farmer, a hearty man of some fifty years of age,
said, as he came to the door, "be'est thou? What art doing on the
squire's horse? He looks as if thou had ridden him unmercifully, surely?"

In a few words Hugh related what had taken place, and told him of
his own offer to go to the wars with Rupert.

"That's right, lad; that's right and proper. It's according to the
nature of things that when a Holliday rides to the war a Parsons
should ride behind him. It's always been so, and will always be so,
I hope. Mother will grieve, no doubt; but she won't want to fly in
the face of nature.

"Here, mother, come out. Master Rupert's killed Sir William
Brownlow's son, and is off to the wars, and so our Hugh's,
natural-like, going with him."

Mrs. Parsons after her first ejaculation of surprise burst into
tears, but, as her husband had predicted, offered no objection
whatever to what seemed to her, as to him, a matter of plain duty
on the part of her son. Hugh now explained the reason of his
return.

"Ay, ay, lad; thou shalt have the money. I've got fifty pounds for
next quarter's rent. Colonel Holliday will be glad enough for some
of it to go to his grandson. I'll gin ye half o't, Hugh, and take
my chance of the colonel agreeing to it. I'll give'e as much more
out of my old stocking upstairs. Put it carefully by, lad. Money is
as useful in war as at other times, and pay ain't always regular;
maybe the time may come when the young master may be short of
money, and it may come in useful. Now put on thy riding coat; and
mother will put thy best clothes in a valise.

"Bustle up, mother, there bain't no time to lose."

Thus addressed, Mrs. Parsons dried her tears and hurried away.
Hugh, hitching the bridle over a hook, made his way to his room to
change his clothes. When he came down, all was ready.

"Thy clothes are in the valise, Hugh. I have put on the holsters,
and the pistols are in them. They are loaded, boy. In the bottom of
one are the master's twenty-five pounds. Thy own money is in the
valise. Here, boy, is my father's sword; it hasn't been used since
Naseby, but it's a good blade. Thou art a deft hand at quarterstaff
and singlestick, though, and I doubt not that thy hands can guard
thy head. I need not say, Hugh Parsons, you will, if need be, die
for thy master, for I know thou will do it, lad. Now kiss thy
mother, boy; and God speed you."

A long embrace with his father and mother, and then Hugh, blinded
by his tears, mounted his horse, and rode off in the track of
Rupert.

After an hour's sharp riding he overtook him, at a wayside inn,
just across the boundary between Derby and Leicestershire.

"Is it all right, Hugh?" he asked, as Hugh drew up at the door.

"All right, Master Rupert. Father has sent thee twenty-five pounds
out of the rent that will be due at Lady day; and he doubts not
that the colonel will approve of what he has done. H ow long have
you been here?"

"Only some five minutes, Hugh. We had best let the horses feed, and
then ride quietly into Leicester, it's only fifteen miles away. I
see you've got a sword."

"A sword and pistols, Master Rupert; and as you have the same,
methinks any highwayman chaps we might meet would think twice ere
they venture to cry 'Stand and deliver.'"

"You heard no word of whether James Brownlow was alive or dead,
Hugh? I should be very glad to hear that he is not killed."

"No word of the matter had come to the farm when I came away," Hugh
said; "but I should not worry about it one way or the other, Master
Rupert. You'll kill lots more when you get to the wars; and the
country won't grieve over James Brownlow. Young as he was, he was a
bad one; I've heard more than one dark story whispered of him.
Folks say he took after his father, who was as wild and as bad as
any man in Derbyshire when he was young."



Chapter 4: The Sedan Chair.

"This is our last stage, Hugh, and tonight we shall be in London,"
Rupert said, as they rode out of Watford. "Methinks we shall find
it very strange in that great city. I am glad I thought of asking
our host the name of an inn at which to put up. The Bell in
Bishopsgate Street, he said. It will seem less strange asking the
way there than it would be to be wandering about gazing for a place
at which to alight."

"Ay, truly, Master Rupert; and I've heard say those London folk are
main fond of making game of strangers."

"So I have heard, Hugh; any reasonable jest we had best put up with
with good temper. If they push it too far, we shall be able, I
doubt not, to hold our own. The first thing to do will be to get
clothes of the cut in vogue, for I have come away just as I stood;
and I fear that even your clothes will have a marvellously country
air about them in the eyes of the city folk.

"There is London," he said, as they passed over the crest of
Hampstead Hill. "That great round dome that stands up so high must
be Saint Paul's; and look how many other church towers and spires
there are. And there, away to the right, those must be the towers
of Westminster."

"It is a big place, surely, Master Rupert. How many people do you
think live there?"

"I believe there are near 300,000 souls there, Hugh. It seems
wonderful, does it not?"

"It's too big to think of, Master Rupert," Hugh said, and they
continued their journey southward.

They entered the city at Aldersgate, but they had ridden some
distance through houses before they arrived at the boundary, for
the city was already spreading beyond its ancient limits. Once
inside the walls, the lads were astonished at the bustle and noise.

Hugh inquired the way to Bishopsgate Street of a respectable
citizen, who directed them to follow the road until they came to a
broad turning to their left. This would be Chepeside, and they were
to follow this until they came to the Exchange, a large building
straight in front of them. Passing this, they would find themselves
in Bishopsgate Street.

If Aldersgate Street had surprised them, much more were they
astonished at the din and turmoil of Chepeside, and Hugh, having
twice narrowly escaped riding over a citizen, and being soundly
rated for a country gawk, Rupert turned to him.

"Look at your horse's head, Hugh, and pay no attention to aught
else. When we have reached our destination, we shall have plenty of
time to look at all these wonders."

The advice was good, and without mischance they reached the Bell in
Bishopsgate Street, and rode into the yard. The host at once came
out, and after a momentary look of surprise at the youth of the new
arrivals, he asked Rupert courteously if he needed a room.

"Two rooms if it please you," Rupert said, "and together."

The host called a hostler, who at once took charge of the horses,
and led them to the stable, the lads first removing the valises and
holsters, which a servant carried up to their rooms.

"We would have supper," Rupert said; "and while that is preparing
we would, if it is not too late, order some clothes more in the
mode than these. Can you direct us to a tailor?"

"You cannot do better," the landlord said, "than visit my
neighbour, Master John Haliford. His shop is just opposite, and he
makes for many of our best city folk, and for more than one of the
gentry of the Court."

Rupert thanked him, and they crossed the street to the shop
indicated.

The landlord looked after them with a puzzled air.

"It is not often that Joe Miles cannot guess the quality and errand
of his guests, but this time he is floored. Has that young spark
run away from home? I hardly think so, for he speaks gravely, and
without haste; lads who have run away may generally be known by
their speaking in a hurry, and as if anxious. They are both well
mounted; the younger is clearly of the higher estate, although but
meanly dressed; nor does the other seem like his lackey. What are
they talking about outside neighbour Haliford's shop, I wonder? I
would give a silver penny to know. I will walk over presently, and
smoke a pipe with him, and hear what he thinks of them."

The conversation which the host of the Bell had wished he could
overhear was as follows:

Hugh began it.

"Look, Master Rupert, before we go into the shop, let us talk over
what you are going to order."

"I am going to order a walking suit, Hugh, and a court suit for
myself, and a suit for you."

"Yes, but what sort of a suit, Master Rupert?"

"I should say a walking suit, Hugh, such as would become a modest
citizen."

"That's just it, Master Rupert. So far you have treated me as a
friend; but now, sir, it must be different, for to do so any longer
would not be seemly. You are going to be an officer. I am going to
follow you as a trooper; but till we go to the war I must be
dressed as your retainer. Not a lackey, perhaps, but a sort of
confidential retainer. That will be best, Master Rupert, in every
way."

Rupert was silent for a moment.

"Well, Hugh, perhaps that would be best; but you must remember that
whatever we are before others, we are always friends when we are
alone."

"Very well," Hugh said, "that is understood; but you know that
alone or before others, I shall always be your faithful servant."

"What can I make you, sir?" the tailor asked, as the lads entered
his shop.

Master Haliford was a small man; neat in his dress; a little fussy
in manner. He was very upright, and seemed to look under rather
than through the pair of horn spectacles which he wore. His look
changed from affability to doubt as he took a nearer look at his
intending customers.

"I need a suit such as a gentleman might wear at court," Rupert
said, quietly, "and a walking or ordinary suit for myself; and a
suit such as would be worn by a trusted retainer for my friend
here."

The tailor put his head on one side, and rubbed his chin
thoughtfully.

"Have I had the honour of being recommended to you by the
honourable gentleman your father?" he asked.

"No, indeed," Rupert said. "It was mine host at the Bell, who
advised me that I could not do better than come to your shop."

"Ah, you are known to him, beyond doubt," John Haliford said,
brightening.

"No, indeed," Rupert answered. "He was a stranger to me to within
five minutes back."

"You must excuse my caution, young sir," John Haliford said, after
another minute's reflection; "but it is the custom of us London
tradesmen with those gentlemen who may honour us with their custom,
and whom we have not the honour of knowing, to require payment, or
at least a portion of payment, at the time of giving the order, and
the rest at the time of delivery of the goods. In your case, sir, I
am sure, an unnecessary piece of caution, but a rule from which I
never venture to go."

"That is only fair and right," Rupert said. "I will pay half now,
and the other half when the garments are completed; or if it please
you, will pay the whole in advance."

"By no means, by no means," the tailor said with alacrity; "one
third in advance is my rule, sir. And now, sir, what colour and
material do you affect?"

"As sober both in hue and in material as may be," Rupert said, "and
yet sufficiently in the fashion for me to wear in calling upon a
nobleman of the court."

"Pardon me," the tailor said, "but perhaps you would condescend to
take me into your confidence. There are noblemen, and noblemen. A
tory lord, for instance, is generally a little richer in his colour
than a whig nobleman, for these affect a certain sobriety of air.
With some again, a certain military cut is permitted, while with
others this would be altogether out of place."

"I am going to the Earl of Marlborough," Rupert said briefly.

"Dear me, dear me! Indeed now!" the little tailor said with an
instant and great accession of deference, for the Earl of
Marlborough was the greatest man in the realm. "Had your honour
mentioned that at first, I should not have ventured to hint at the
need for previous payment."

"What!" Rupert said, with a smile. "You would have broken your
fixed rule! Surely not, Master Haliford."

The tailor looked sharply at his young customer. Whoever he might
be, he was clearly no fool; and without more ado he brought forward
his patterns and bent himself to the work in hand.

Having chosen the colours and stuffs for the suits of clothes, the
lads returned to the Bell, where a supper of cold chicken and the
remains of a fine sirloin awaited them, with two tankards of
home-brewed ale. The next morning, before sallying out to see the
town, Rupert wrote to his grandfather, asking his pardon for
running away, expressing his intention of applying to the Earl of
Marlborough for a cornetcy of horse, and giving his address at the
Bell; asking him also to make his humble excuse to his lady mother,
and to assure her of his devotion and respect, although
circumstances had caused his apparent disobedience to her wishes.

Although there was a much greater amount of filial respect and
obedience expressed in those days than now, human nature has
differed but slightly in different ages of the world; and it is
probable that sons went their own way quite as much as they do now,
when there is very little talk either of obedience or respect.
Indeed, the implicit obedience, and almost servile respect, which
our forefathers expected from their sons, could not but in a great
number of cases drive the sons to be hypocrites as well as
undutiful; and our modern system of making our boys companions and
friends, of taking an interest in all they do, and in teaching them
to regard us as their natural advisers, has produced a generation
of boys less outwardly respectful, no doubt, but as dutiful, and
far more frank and truthful than those of the bygone times.

Rupert, finding that few of the citizens wore swords, and feeling
that in his present attire he would attract attention by so doing,
left his sword at the inn, and bought for Hugh and himself a couple
of stout sticks--Hugh's a cudgel which would be useful in a hand
well accustomed to singlestick, his own a cane of a wood such as he
had never before seen--light, strong, and stiff. He chose it
because it was well balanced in the hand. Then they sallied out
into Cornhill, past the Exchange, erected by the worshipful citizen
Sir Thomas Gresham, and then into Chepeside, where they were
astonished at the wealth and variety of the wares displayed in the
shops. Gazing into the windows, they frequently got into the way,
and were saluted many times with the query, "Where are you going,
stupids?" a question which Hugh was largely inclined to resent, and
would have done so had not Rupert told him that evidently they did
get into the way of the hurrying citizens, and that it was more
wise to put up with rudeness than to embark in a series of
quarrels, in which, moreover, as strangers they were likely to get
the worst of the dispute. Saint Paul's Cathedral, then but newly
finished, astonished them vastly with its size and magnificence,
and they returned to the midday dinner at the Bell delighted with
all that they had seen.

Asking the landlord how he would recommend them to pass the
afternoon, he said that they could do no better than take a boat at
London Bridge, and be rowed up to the village of Chelsea, where
many of the nobility did dwell, and then coming back to Westminster
might get out there, see the Abbey and the great Hall, and then
walk back along the Strand.

The lads followed the advice, and were soon delighted and surprised
with the great river, then pure and limpid, and covered with boats
proceeding rapidly in all directions, for it was at that time the
great highway of London. Tide was flowing and the river nearly
full, and having given their waterman the intimation that time did
not press, he rowed them very gently along in the centre of the
stream, pointing out to them, when they had passed above the limits
of the city, the various noblemen's houses scattered along the
banks of the river. Off Westminster the waterman ceased rowing, to
allow them to view the grand old Abbey; and then as they went on
again, they marvelled at the contrast of the low, deserted marshes
of Lambeth and Bankside, which contrasted so strongly with the
magnificence and the life they had left behind.

At Chelsea they admired the grand palace for the reception of old
soldiers, and then--for the tide was turning now--floated back to
Westminster. So long were they in going round the Abbey, and
examining the tombs of the kings, that it was getting dark when
they started eastward again, up past the Palace of Whitehall, and
then along the Strand. Already the distance between the city and
Westminster was connected with houses, and the junction of the two
cities had fairly taken place.

Dim oil lamps were lighted here and there as they went along, foot
passengers bore lanterns to enable them to pick their way across
rough places, and link men carried torches in front of sedan
chairs, in which ladies were being taken to fashionable
entertainments, which then commenced at six o'clock.

All this was new and amusing to the boys; and having gone into a
tavern near the Abbey, and partaken of some refreshment, they were
not pressed for time; and it was near eight before they seriously
thought of proceeding towards the city.

When a few hundred yards from Temple Bar, they heard a shouting and
a scream down one of the streets leading to the river. The street
was deserted, but down at the farther end they could see the flash
of sword blades, in the light of an oil lamp.

"Come along, Hugh; that is a woman's scream."

"Better not interfere, Master Rupert," Hugh said.

But Rupert had already darted off, and Hugh without a moment's
hesitation followed in his steps.

At the end of the street they came upon a sedan chair. The two
porters stood surlily against the wall, menaced by the drawn swords
of two men standing over them; while two other men--evidently of
higher rank, but enveloped in cloaks--were forcibly dragging a lady
from the chair. They had thrown a cloak over her head to drown her
cries.

As the lads came up, one of the men uttered a furious oath.

"Rolf, Simon! leave those fellows and keep these springalls back.
They are but boys. I will whistle when I am in the boat.

"Now, mistress!" and he began to carry the lady away.

As the lads arrived, the servitors--for such they were by their
appearance--leaving the chairmen, turned upon them. One of the
chairmen at once ran off as fast as his legs could carry him; but
the other, a sturdy fellow, leaped on the back of the man who had
been guarding him, as the latter turned upon Rupert. Hugh was
attacked by the other.

"Be careful, Hugh! keep out of reach of his point," Rupert cried;
and darting past, he struck the man who had hold of the lady a
sharp blow across the ankle, which brought him instantly to the
ground with his burden.

The other gentleman drew his sword, and rushed upon Rupert. It was
fortunate for the latter that he had chosen his stick for lightness
and balance, for it moved as quickly and easily as a foil. Without
a thought of guarding, his assailant rushed at him to run him
through; but Rupert parried the thrust, and in turn drove the end
of his stick, with all his force, into his opponent's stomach. The
man instantaneously doubled up with a low cry, and fell on the
ground.

Then the other man, who had by this time risen to his feet, in turn
rushed furiously at Rupert. A few times the sword and stick scraped
and rasped against each other, and then Rupert lunged full at the
other's face.

There was a loud cry, an oath, and then, as the sound of the watch
running down the street, led by the chairman who had run away, was
heard, the man took to his feet and fled. The lackey who had
engaged Hugh, and who had in vain endeavoured to get to close
quarters with the lad, imitated his example; but the prostrate man
on the ground, and the fellow held by the chairman, were seized by
the watch.

Rupert turned to the young lady, who, having now disencumbered
herself of the folds of the cloak over her head, was leaning, half
fainting, against the chair.

Taking off his hat and bowing deeply, he expressed his hope that
she had suffered no harm through the unmannerly assault upon her.

"I thank you greatly, sir," she said, speaking with a slightly
foreign accent. "I am unhurt, although somewhat breathless. I owe
you my deep gratitude for rescue from these evil-minded men."

"What may be your name, mistress?" one of the watch asked. "You
will be needed tomorrow to testify against these men."

"My name is Maria Von Duyk, and I reside at present with the worthy
alderman, Peter Hawkins, to whom I was returning in the chair, as
the chairmen will tell you, after a visit to Mistress Vanloct,
whose house we had just left when molested."

"And yours, young sir?" the watchman asked.

"My name is Rupert Holliday. I am staying at the Bell, in
Bishopsgate Street."

"You will both have to be present tomorrow morning before the
worshipful magistrate Master Forman, at Westminster."

The watch now secured the man on the ground, who was recovering
from the effect of the violent thrust in the stomach, and putting
handcuffs on him and the other, led them away.

"You will permit me, I trust, to escort you to your door," Rupert
said, as he ceremoniously handed the young lady into her chair.

"Yes, indeed, sir; and I trust that you will enter, and allow Dame
Hawkins to add her thanks to mine."

Rupert bowed, and the chair being closed the chairmen lifted it,
and with Rupert and Hugh following, proceeded eastward.

When they arrived at the house of Alderman Hawkins, in Lawrence
Pulteney, the young lady on alighting begged Rupert to enter; but
the latter excused himself on account of the hour, but said that he
would call next morning, and would, if allowed, accompany her and
the alderman to give evidence as to the assault.

On arriving next morning, Rupert was overwhelmed with thanks by the
alderman, his wife, and Mistress Maria Von Duyk, all of whom were
much surprised at his youth, for in the dim light of the preceding
evening the young lady had not perceived that her rescuer was a
mere lad.

Rupert found that there was no occasion to go before the
magistrate, for the alderman having sent down early to the watch
house to inquire at what hour their presence would be required,
found that the prisoners had been rescued, on their way to the
watch house, by a party of armed men.

"We are," the alderman said, "well aware who was the leader of the
assailants, the man who escaped. Sir Richard Fulke is a ruined
gamester, and is a distant relation of Dame Vanloct, whom my young
friend was yesterday visiting. Knowing the wealth of Mistress Von
Duyk's good father, he has sought to mend his ruined fortune by a
match with her. At the urgent request of Mistress Von Duyk I wrote
to him, saying that his attentions were unpleasing to her, and that
they must be discontinued, or that she could no longer visit at
Dame Vanloct's where she usually had met him. This was a week
since. He replied courteously, regretting that the deep devotion he
felt was unrequited, but withdrawing from the undertaking of trying
to win her, and promising that henceforth she should be no longer
troubled with his presence when she visited Dame Vanloct. This was
of course done to lull our suspicion. When the chair was stopped
yesterday, Maria at once recognized his voice. As they dragged her
from the chair, he said:

"'Quick! hurry her down to the boat.'

"There is no doubt upon my mind that he intended to carry her off,
and to compel her to marry him. I bethought me at first of applying
to the secretary of state for a warrant for his arrest to answer
for this outrage, but Mistress Maria leaves us tomorrow for
Holland, and the process would delay her departure, and would cause
a scandal and talk very unpleasant to herself, and which would
greatly offend my good friend her father. Had the men in custody
been brought up this morning, there would have been no choice but
to have carried the matter through. It was then a relief to us to
find that they had escaped. I have told you this, young sir, as
your due after having rescued Mistress Von Duyk from so great a
peril. Now, as to yourself, believe me if my friendship and
assistance can in any way advantage you, they are at your service.
Even of your name I am yet in ignorance."

Rupert thanked the worthy alderman, and then stated that he was the
grandson of Colonel Holliday, of Windthorpe Chace, in Derbyshire,
and had come up to London to wait upon the Earl of Marlborough, who
had promised him his protection and a cornetcy in a regiment of
horse for service in Holland.

"In that case, sir," Mistress Von Duyk said, "it is like you may
come to Dort. If so, believe me that my father, whom I shall tell
how much we are indebted to you, will not be backward in
manifesting his gratitude for the great service that you have
rendered to his daughter."

"How were you thinking of passing the day?" the alderman asked.

"I had no plan," Rupert said. "In truth, I am waiting to call upon
the Earl of Marlborough until Master Haliford has fashioned me a
suit of clothes fitted for such an occasion; he has promised them
for this evening."

"Would it please you to go down the river? I have a boat, and if
you would like to see the shipping of this great port, and the
palace at Greenwich for our seamen, my boatmen will take you down;
and you will, I trust, return and take your midday meal with us."

And so it was arranged; and as Rupert and Hugh were rowed down the
river, lost in wonder at the numerous craft that lay there, Hugh
admitted that Rupert's interference in a business which was no
concern of his had turned out a fortunate occurrence.



Chapter 5: The Fencing School.

It was with no small trepidation that Rupert Holliday ascended the
steps of the Earl of Marlborough's residence in Pall Mall. Hugh
accompanied him thus far and stopped at the door, outside which, in
the courtyard and in the hall, were standing many lackeys who had
attended their masters. Rupert felt very young, and the somewhat
surprised looks of the servants in the hall at his appearance added
to his feeling of youth. He was shown into an antechamber, where a
number of officers of all ranks, of courtiers, and politicians,
were assembled, talking in groups. Rupert felt alone and
uncomfortable among this crowd of distinguished men, none of whom
did he know, and no one paid the smallest attention to him. He had
on entering written his name down in a book in the hall, whence it
would be taken in with others to the great man.

Presently an officer in general's uniform came out from an inner
room, and an instant afterwards the earl himself appeared. Not only
was John Churchill one of the most handsome men in Europe, but he
was the most courtly and winning in manner; and Rupert, shrinking
back from observation, watched with admiration as he moved round
the room, stopping to say a few words here, shaking hands there,
listening to a short urgent person, giving an answer to a petition,
before presented, by another, giving pleasure and satisfaction
wherever he moved.

Rupert saw, however, that even while speaking his eye was wandering
round the room, and directly he perceived him he walked straight
towards him, those standing between falling back as he advanced.

"Ah, my young friend," he said warmly, holding out his hand to
Rupert, "I was expecting you.

"Sir John Loveday, Lord Fairholm," he said, turning to two young
gentlemen near, "let me present to you Master Rupert Holliday,
grandson of Colonel Holliday, one of the bravest of our cavaliers,
and who I can guarantee has inherited the skill and courage of his
grandfather. He will make the campaign in Holland with you,
gentlemen, for his commission has been made out today in her
Majesty's fifth regiment of dragoons.

"I will speak to you more, presently, Rupert."

So saying, the earl moved away among his visitors, leaving Rupert
flushed with pleasure and confusion. The young gentlemen to whom
the earl had introduced him, much surprised at the flattering
manner in which the great general had spoken of the lad before
them, at once entered into conversation with him, and hearing that
he was but newly come to London, offered to show him the various
places where men of fashion resorted, and begged him to consider
them at his disposal. Rupert, who had been carefully instructed by
his grandfather in courtly expression and manner, returned many
thanks to the gentlemen for their obliging offers, of which, after
he had again spoken to the earl, and knew what commands he would
lay upon him, he would thankfully avail himself.

It was nearly an hour before the Earl of Marlborough had made the
round of the antechamber, but the time passed quickly to Rupert.
The room was full of men whose names were prominent in the history
of the time, and these Sir John Loveday, and Lord Fairholm, who
were lively young men, twenty-two or twenty-three years old,
pointed out to him, often telling him a merry story or some droll
jest regarding them. There was Saint John, handsome, but delicate
looking, with a half sneer on his face, and dressed in the
extremity of fashion, with a coat of peach-coloured velvet with
immense cuffs, crimson leather shoes with diamond buckles; his
sword was also diamond hilted, his hands were almost hidden in lace
ruffles, and he wore his hair in ringlets of some twenty inches in
length, tied behind with a red ribbon. The tall man, with a haughty
but irritable face, in the scarlet uniform of a general officer,
was the Earl of Peterborough. There too were Godolphin and Orford,
both leading members of the cabinet; the Earl of Sutherland, the
Dukes of Devonshire and Newcastle, Lord Nottingham, and many
others.

At last the audience was over, and the minister, bowing to all,
withdrew, and the visitors began to leave. A lackey came up to
Rupert and requested him to follow him; and bidding adieu to his
new friends, who both gave him their addresses and begged him to
call up on them, he followed the servant into the hall and upstairs
into a cosy room, such as would now be called a boudoir. There
stood the Earl of Marlborough, by the chair in which a lady of
great beauty and commanding air was sitting.

"Sarah," he said, "this is my young friend, Rupert Holliday, who as
you know did me good service in the midlands."

The countess held out her hand kindly to Rupert, and he bent over
it and touched it with his lips.

"You must remember you are my friend as well as my husband's," she
said. "He tells me you saved his life; and although I can scarce
credit the tale, seeing how young you are, yet courage and skill
dwell not necessarily in great bodies. Truly, Master Holliday, I am
deeply indebted to you; and Sarah Churchill is true in her
friendships."

"As in her hates, eh?" laughed the earl.

Between the Earl of Marlborough and his wife there existed no
common affection. They were passionately attached to each other;
and the earl's letters show that at all times, even when in the
field surrounded by difficulties, harassed by opposition, menaced
with destruction by superior forces, his thoughts were turned
affectionately towards her, and he was ever wishing that the war
would end that he might return to her side. She on her part was
equally attached to him, but much as she strove to add to his power
and to forward his plans, her haughty and violent temper was the
main cause of the unmerited disgrace into which he fell with his
royal mistress, who owed so much to him personally, and whose reign
he did so much to render a brilliant and successful one. At the
present time, however, she stood upon the footing of the closest
intimacy and affection with Queen Anne.

The earl then introduced Rupert to those other ladies who were
present; the eldest, his daughter Lady Harriet, recently married to
Mr. Godolphin; the second, Anne, married to Lord Spencer; and the
two daughters still unmarried, aged sixteen and seventeen
respectively.

Rupert was so confused with the earl's kindness that he had
difficulty in finding words, but he made a great effort, and
expressed in proper set terms his thankfulness to the countess for
her great kindness to him, and of his own want of deserts.

"There," the countess said, "that will do very nicely and prettily;
and now put it aside until we are in public, and talk in your own
natural way. So you have been fighting again, have you, and
well-nigh killing young Master Brownlow?"

Rupert was completely astounded at this address; and the earl said,
laughing:

"I told you that I expected you. The worthy colonel your
grandfather wrote me a letter, which I received this morning,
telling me the incident which had taken place, and your sudden
disappearance, stating that he doubted not you had made for London,
and begging--which indeed was in no way necessary--my protection on
your behalf."

"Did my grandfather say, sir," Rupert asked anxiously, "aught of
the state of Master Brownlow?"

"Yes; he said that the leech had strong hopes that he would
recover."

"I am indeed glad of that," Rupert said; "for I had no ill will to
him."

"We must be careful of you, Master Holliday," the countess said;
"for if you go on like this you will much diminish the number of
the queen's subjects."

"I can assure your grace," Rupert said earnestly, "that I am no
brawler, and am not quarrelsome by nature, and that the thought of
shedding blood, except of the foes of my country in battle, pains
me much."

"I'll warrant me you are the mildest-tempered boy alive," the earl
said. "Now tell me frankly: you have been in London some
forty-eight hours; have you passed that time without getting into a
fray or quarrel of any kind?"

Rupert turned scarlet with confusion.

"His looks betray him," the earl laughed. "Look, girls, at the
mild-tempered young gentleman.

"Now, out with it. How was it?"

Thus exhorted, Rupert very stammeringly gave an account of the fray
in which he had been engaged.

"Von Duyk!" the earl said. "She must be a daughter of the great
merchant of Dort--a useful friend to have made, maybe, Master
Holliday; and it may be that your adventure may even be of service
to the state. Never speak now, Master Rupert, of your peaceful
intentions. You take after your namesake, the Prince, and are a
veritable knight errant of adventure. The sooner I have you over in
Holland fighting the queen's enemies, and not the queen's subjects,
the better.

"Now tell me, where have you taken up your abode?"

"At the Bell, at Bishopsgate Street," Rupert answered.

"And your follower, for I know one accompanied you; where is he?"

"He waits without, sir."

The earl touched a hand bell.

"Fetch in Master Holliday's retainer; you will find him without.
Make him at home in the servant's hall. Send a messenger down to
the Bell at Bishopsgate, fetch hither the mails of Master Holliday;
he will remain as my guest at present."

Rupert now entered upon a life very different to that which he had
led hitherto. He received a letter from Colonel Holliday, enclosing
an order on a London banker for fifty pounds, and he was soon
provided with suits of clothes fit for balls and other occasions.
Wherever the earl went, Rupert accompanied him as one of his
personal followers; and the frank, straightforward manners of the
lad pleased the ladies of the court, and thus "Little Holliday," as
he was called, soon became a great favourite.

It was about a fortnight after his arrival in town that, for the
first time, he accompanied his friends Sir John Loveday and Lord
Fairholm to the fencing school of Maitre Dalboy, the great fencing
master of the day. Rupert had been looking forward much to this
visit, as he was anxious to see what was the degree of proficiency
of the young court gallants in the art which he so much loved.

Maitre Dalboy's school was a fashionable lounge of the young men of
the court and army. It was a large and lofty room, and some six
assistants were in the act of giving instructions to beginners, or
of fencing with more advanced students, when the trio entered.
Maitre Dalboy himself came up to greet them, for both Rupert's
friends had been his pupils.

"You are strangers," he said reproachfully. "How are your muscles
to keep in good order, and your eye true, if you do not practise?
It is heart rending! I take every pains to turn out accomplished
swordsmen; and no sooner have my pupils learned something of the
business, than they begin to forget it."

"We shall begin to put your teaching into effect before long,
Maitre Dalboy," Sir John Loveday said, with a smile, "for we are
going over to join the army in Holland in a few weeks, and we shall
then have an opportunity of trying the utility of the parries you
have taught us."

"It is too bad," the Frenchman said, shrugging his shoulders, "that
my pupils should use the science I have taught them against my
countrymen; but what would you have? It is the fortune of war. Is
this young gentleman a new pupil that you have brought me?"

"No, indeed," Lord Fairholm said; "this is Master Rupert Holliday,
a cornet in the 5th regiment of dragoons, who is also about to
start for Holland."

"I have had the advantage of learning from a countryman of yours,
Monsieur Dalboy," Rupert said, "a Monsieur Dessin, who is good
enough to teach the noble art in the town of Derby."

"Dessin! Dessin!" Maitre Dalboy said, thoughtfully "I do not
remember the name among our maitres d'escrime."

"The Earl of Marlborough himself vouches for the skill of Master
Holliday with the sword. His grandfather, Colonel Holliday, was, I
believe, noted as one of the finest blades at the court of Saint
Germains."

"I have heard of him," Monsieur Dalboy said, with interest. "Let me
think; he wounded the Marquis de Beauchamp, who was considered one
of the best swordsmen in France. Yes, yes, his fame as a swordsman
is still remembered. And he is alive yet?"

"Alive and active," Rupert said; "and although, as he says himself,
he has lost some of his quickness of reposte, there are, Monsieur
Dessin says, few fencers who could even now treat him lightly."

"And you have had the benefit of his instruction as well as that of
my countryman?" Monsieur Dalboy asked.

"Yes," Rupert said, "my grandfather, although he cares not at his
age for prolonged exercise, has yet made a point of giving me for a
few minutes each day the benefit of his skill."

"I should like to have a bout with you, Master Holliday," Monsieur
Dalboy said; "will you take a foil? I am curious to see what the
united teaching of my countryman and that noted swordsman Colonel
Holliday may have done. To me, as a master, it is interesting to
discover what is possible with good teachers, when the science is
begun young. What may your age be, Master Holliday?"

"I am four months short of sixteen," Rupert said, "and I shall be
very proud of the honour of crossing swords with so famed a master
as yourself, if you think me worthy of so great a privilege."

There was quite a sensation in the fencing school, round which were
gathered some forty or fifty of the young men of the day, when
Maitre Dalboy called for his plastron and foil, for it was seldom
indeed, and then only with swordsmen of altogether exceptional
strength, that Monsieur Dalboy condescended to fence, contenting
himself ordinarily with walking about the school and giving a hint
now and then to those fencing with his assistants, not, perhaps,
more than once a week taking a foil in his hand to illustrate some
thrust or guard which he was inculcating. At this call, therefore,
there was a general silence; and everyone turned to see who was the
fencer whom the great master thus signally deigned to honour.

Great was the astonishment when, as Monsieur Dalboy divested
himself of his coat and vest, the lad who had entered with Lord
Fairholm and Sir John Loveday was seen similarly to prepare for the
contest.

"Who is he? What singular freak is this of the maitre to take up a
foil with a boy!" was the question which ran round the room.

Several of those present had met Rupert Holliday, and could give
his name; but none could account for the freak on the part of the
master.

Fortunately Rupert was unacquainted with the fact that what seemed
to him a natural occurrence was an extraordinary event in the eyes
of all assembled, and he therefore experienced no feeling of
nervousness whatever. He knew that Colonel Holliday was a master of
the sword, and his grandfather had told him that Monsieur Dessin
was an altogether exceptional swordsman. As he knew himself to be
fully a match for the latter, he felt sure that, however perfect a
master Monsieur Dalboy might be, he need not fear discrediting his
master, even if his present opponent should prove more than his
match.

There was a dead silence of curiosity at the singularity of the
affair, as Rupert Holliday took his post face to face with the
master; but a murmur of surprise and admiration ran round the room
at the grace and perfection of accuracy with which Rupert went
through the various parades which were then customary before the
combatants crossed swords.

Rupert felt as calm and as steady as when fencing at home, and
determined to use all his caution as well as all his skill; for not
only did he feel that his own strength was upon trial, but that the
honour of the teachers who had taken such pains with him was
concerned in the result. The swords had scarcely crossed when an
expression of surprise passed across Maitre Dalboy's face. The
first few passes showed him that in this lad he had found an
opponent of no ordinary character, and that all his skill would be
needed to obtain a victory over him.

For the first few minutes each fought cautiously, feeling each
other's strength rather than attempting to attack seriously. Then
the master dropped his point.

"Ma foi! Young sir, you have done monsieur le colonel and my
compatriot justice. I offer you my congratulations."

"They are premature, sir," Rupert said, smiling; "you have not as
yet begun."

The silence in the school was even more profound when the swords
again crossed than it had been when the bout began, for wonder had
now taken the place of amused curiosity. The struggle now commenced
in earnest. Several times at first Rupert narrowly escaped being
touched, for the master's play was new to him. The thrusts and
feints, the various attacks, were all familiar; but whereas Colonel
Holliday had fought simply with his arm and his head, standing
immovably in one place, and Monsieur Dessin had, although quick to
advance and fall back, fought comparatively on the defensive, while
he himself had been the assailant from his superior activity,
Monsieur Dalboy was as quick and as active as himself, and the
rapidity of the attacks, the quick bounds, the swift rushes, at
first almost bewildered him; but gradually, as he grew accustomed
to the play, he steadied himself, and eluded the master's attacks
with an activity as great as his own.

In vain Monsieur Dalboy employed every feint, every combination in
his repertoire. Rupert was always prepared, for from one or other
of his teachers he had learnt the defence to be employed against
each; and at last, as the master, exhausted with his exertions,
flagged a little, Rupert in turn took the offensive. Now Monsieur
Dalboy's skill stood him in equal stead to defend himself against
Rupert's rapid attacks and lightning-like passes and thrusts; and
although the combat had lasted without a second's interruption for
nearly a quarter of an hour, neither combatant had touched the
other.

At last Rupert saw by his opponent's eye that a new and special
combination was about to be put into action against him, and he
instantly steadied himself to resist it. It came with the rapidity
of thought, but Rupert recognized it by the first pass as the very
last combination which Monsieur Dessin had taught him, assuring him
at the time that he would find it irresistible, for that there were
not three men in Europe acquainted with it. He met the attack then
with the defence which Monsieur Dessin had showed him to be the
sure escape, ending with a wrench which nearly tore the sword from
the hand of his opponent.

Monsieur Dalboy sprang back on guard, with a look of profound
astonishment; and then throwing down his foil, he threw himself, in
the impetuous manner of his countrymen, on Rupert's neck, and
embraced him.

"Mon dieu! mon dieu!" he exclaimed, "You are incroyable, you are a
miracle.

"Gentlemen," he said, turning to those present, when the burst of
enthusiastic applause which greeted the conclusion of this
extraordinary contest subsided, "you see in this young gentleman
one of the finest swordsmen in Europe. I do not say the finest, for
he has not touched me, and having no idea of his force I extended
myself rashly at first; but I may say he is my equal. Never but
once have I crossed swords with such a fencer, and I doubt if even
he was as strong. His parry to my last attack was miraculous. It
was a coup invented by myself, and brought to perfection with that
one I speak of. I believed no one else knew it, and have ever
reserved it for a last extremity; but his defence, even to the last
wrench, which would have disarmed any other man but myself, and
even me had I not known that it should have come then, was perfect;
it was astounding.

"This maitre of yours--this Monsieur Dessin," he went on, turning
to Rupert, "must be a wonder.

"Ah!" he said suddenly, and as if to himself; "c'est bien possible!
What was he like, this Monsieur Dessin?"

"He is tall, and slight except as to his shoulders, where he is
very broad."

"And he has a little scar here, has he not?" the fencing master
said, pointing to his temple.

"Yes," Rupert said, surprised; "I have often noticed it."

"Then it is he," Monsieur Dalboy said, "the swordsman of whom I
spoke. No wonder you parried my coup. I had wondered what had
become of him. And you know him as Monsieur Dessin? And he teaches
fencing?"

"Yes," Rupert said; "but my grandfather always said that Monsieur
Dessin was only an assumed name, and that he was undoubtedly of
noble blood."

"Your grandfather was right," the master said. "Yes, you have had
wonderful masters; but unless I had seen it, I should not have
believed that even the best masters in the world could have turned
out such a swordsman as you at your age."

By this time the various couples had begun fencing again, and the
room resounded with the talk of the numerous lookers on, who were
all discoursing on what appeared to them, as to Monsieur Dalboy,
the almost miraculous occurrence of a lad under sixteen holding his
own against a man who had the reputation of being the finest maitre
in Europe. Lord Fairholm, Sir John Loveday, and other gentlemen,
now came round.

"I was rather thinking," Sir John said, with a laugh, "of taking
you under my protection, Master Holliday, and fighting your battles
for you, as an old boy does for a young one at school; but it must
even be the other way. And by my faith, if any German Ritter or
French swordsman should challenge the British dragoons to a trial
of the sword, we shall put you forth as our David."

"I trust that that may not be," Rupert said; "for though in battle
I hope that I shall not be found wanting, yet I trust that I shall
have nought to do in private quarrels, but be looked upon as one of
a peaceful disposition."

"Very peaceful, doubtless!" laughed Lord Fairholm. "Tell me, Master
Rupert, honestly now, didst ever use in earnest that sword that you
have just shown that you know so well how to wield?"

Rupert flushed up crimson.

"Yes," he said, with a shame-faced look, "I have twice used my
sword in self defence."

"Ha, ha! Our peaceful friend!" laughed Lord Fairholm. "And tell me,
didst put an end to both unfortunates?"

Rupert coloured still more deeply.

"I had the misfortune to slay one, my lord; but there are good
hopes that the other will recover."

A general shout of laughter greeted the announcement, which
together with Rupert's evident shame-faced look, was altogether too
much for their gravity.

Just at this moment a diversion was caused by a young man dressed
in the extreme of fashion who entered the school. He had a
dissipated and jaded air.

"Fulke, where hast been?" one of the group standing round Rupert
asked. "We have missed you these two weeks. Someone said you had
been roughly mauled, and had even lost some teeth. Is it so?"

"It is," the newcomer said, with an angry scowl. "Any beauty I once
may have had is gone forever. I have lost three of my upper teeth,
and two of my lower, and I am learning now to speak with my lips
shut, so as to hide the gap."

"But how came it about?"

"I was walking down a side street off the Strand, when four men
sprang out and held my hands to my side, another snatched my watch
and purse, and as I gave a cry for the watch, he smote me with the
pommel of his rapier in my mouth, then throwing me on the ground
the villains took to their heels together."

The exclamations of commiseration and indignation which arose
around, were abruptly checked by a loud laugh from Rupert.

There was a dead silence and Sir Richard Fulke, turning his eyes
with fury towards the lad who had dared to jeer at his misfortune,
demanded why he laughed.

"I could not help but laugh," Rupert said, "although doubtless it
was unmannerly; but your worship's story reminded me so
marvellously of the tale of the stout knight, Sir John Falstaff's
adventure with the men of buckram."

"What mean you?" thundered Sir Richard.

"I mean, sir," Rupert said quietly, "that your story has not one
word of truth in it. I came upon you in that side street off the
Strand, as you were trying to carry off by force, aided by a rascal
named Captain Copper, a lady, whose name shall not be mentioned
here. I had not my sword with me, but with a walking stick I
trounced your friend the captain, and then, with my stick against
your rapier, I knocked out those teeth you regret, with a fair
thrust.

"If my word is doubted, gentlemen, Alderman Hawkins, who heard the
details of the matter from the young lady and her chairman, can
vouch for it."

A cry of fury burst from Sir Richard Fulke; and drawing his sword
he would have sprung upon the lad, who had not only disfigured him
for life, but now made him the laughingstock of society, for the
tale would, he knew, spread far and wide. Several of the gentlemen
threw themselves between him and Rupert.

"I will have his life's blood!" he exclaimed, struggling in the
arms of those who would hold him back. "I will kill the dog as he
stands."

"Sir Richard Fulke," Lord Fairholm said, "Master Holliday is a
friend of mine, and will give you an honourable meeting when you
will; but I should advise you to smother your choler. It seems he
proved himself with a stick your superior, although armed with a
sword, and Master Dalboy will tell you that it is better to leave
him alone."

Master Dalboy was standing by, and going up to Sir Richard, he
said:

"Sir, if you will take my poor advice you will go your way, and
leave Master Holliday to himself. He has, as those here will tell
you, proved himself fully my equal as a swordsman, and could kill
you if only armed with a six-inch dagger against your sword. It
would be safer for you to challenge the whole of those in this
present company than to cross swords with him."

A few words from those standing round corroborated a statement
which at first appeared fabulous; and then finding that an open
encounter with Rupert would be the worst possible method of
obtaining satisfaction for the injuries he had received, Sir
Richard Fulke flung himself out of the school, muttering deep vows
of future vengeance.

"You have made a dangerous enemy," Lord Fairholm said, as the three
friends walked homeward. "He bears a bad character, and is a
reckless and ruined man. After what he has heard of your skill as a
swordsman he will, we may be sure, take no open steps against you;
but it is certain that he will scheme night and day for vengeance.
When the report gets abroad of his cock-and-bull story, and the
true history of the loss of his teeth, he will not be able to show
his face in public for some time; but he will be none the less
dangerous. Through that notorious ruffian, Captain Copper, he can
dispose of half the cutthroats about the town, and I should advise
you not to go out after dark until you have put the seas between
you and him, and even then you had better be cautious for a time."

Rupert agreed with his friend's advice, and the next day begged his
patron to let him embark at once for Holland, in a ship that was to
sail with troops from London Bridge. He urged as his reason for
desiring to go at once, his wish to learn something at least of his
duties before the campaign began.

As the earl had already heard a rumour of the scene in the fencing
school, he made no opposition to the plan, and the next day Rupert,
accompanied by Hugh, sailed down the Thames, bound for Rotterdam.



Chapter 6: The War Of Succession.

The war which was about to commence, and which Rupert Holliday
sailed for the Hague to take part in, was one of the grandest and
most extensive struggles that ever devastated Europe, embracing as
it did the whole of the central and western nations of the
continent. In fact, with the exception of Russia, still in the
depths of barbarism, and Italy, which was then a battlefield rather
than a nation, all the states of Europe were ranged on one side or
the other.

As Charles the Second of Spain approached his end, the liveliest
interest was felt as to his succession. He had no children, and the
hopes and fears of all the continental nations were excited by the
question of the disposal of the then vast dominions of Spain. The
principal powers of Europe, dreading the consequences of this great
empire being added to the power of any one monarch, entered into a
secret treaty, which was signed at the Hague in 1698, by which it
was agreed that Spain itself should be ceded to the Electoral
Prince of Bavaria, with Flanders and the Low countries; Naples,
Sicily, Tuscany, and Guipuscoa were to fall to France; and the
Duchy of Milan to the archduke, son of the Emperor of Germany.
Holland was to gain a considerable accession of territory. England,
one of the signatories to the treaty, was to gain nothing by the
division.

The contents of this treaty leaked out, and the king of Spain,
after a consultation with Austria, who was also indignant at the
secret treaty, made a will bequeathing all his dominions to the
Elector of Bavaria. Had that prince lived, all the complications
which ensued would probably have been avoided; but he died, the 9th
February, 1699, and the whole question was thereby again opened.
Another secret treaty was made, between England, France, and
Holland, and signed on the 13th March, 1700, at the Hague. By this
treaty it was agreed that France was to receive Naples, Sicily,
Guipuscoa, and Lorraine; the Archduke Charles Spain, the Low
Countries, and the Indies; and the Spanish colonies were to be
divided between Holland and England. As both England and Holland
were at the time in alliance with Spain, it must be admitted that
their secret arrangement for the partition of her territories was
of a very infamous character.

Louis of France, while apparently acting with the other powers,
secretly communicated the contents of the treaty to Charles II. The
Spanish king was naturally dismayed at the great conspiracy to
divide his kingdom at his death, and he convened his council of
state and submitted the matter to them. It was apparent that
France, by far the most powerful of the other continental states,
could alone avert the division, and the states general therefore
determined to unite the interests of France and Spain by appointing
the Duc d'Anjou, grandson of the King of France, sole heir to the
vast empire of Spain.

The news that Spain and France were henceforth to be united caused
the greatest consternation to the rest of the States, and all
Europe began to arm. Very shortly after signing the bequest, the
old King of Spain died, and the Duc d'Anjou ascended the throne.
The Spanish Netherlands, governed by the young Elector of Bavaria,
as Lieutenant General of Spain, at once gave in their adhesion to
the new monarch. The distant colonies all accepted his rule, as did
the great Spanish possessions in Italy; while the principal
European nations acknowledged him as successor of Charles the
Second.

The new empire seemed indeed of preponderating strength. Bavaria
united herself in a firm alliance with France and Spain; and these
three countries, with Italy and Flanders, appeared capable of
giving the law to the world. England, less affected than the
continental powers by the dominance of this powerful coalition,
might have remained quiet, had not the French King thrown down the
gauntlet of defiance. On the 16th September, 1701, James the
Second, the exiled King of England, died, and Louis at once
acknowledged his son as King of Great Britain and Ireland. This act
was nothing short of a public declaration of war, not only against
the reigning monarch of England, but against the established
religion of our country. The exiled prince was Roman Catholic.
Louis was the author of the most terrible persecution of the
Protestants that ever occurred in Europe. Thus the action of the
French king rallied round William the Second all the Protestant
feeling of the nation. Both Houses of Parliament voted loyal
addresses, and the nation prepared for the great struggle before
it. The king laboured to establish alliances and a plan for common
action, and all was in readiness, when his sudden death left the
guidance of affairs in other hands.

These hands were, happily for England, those of the Earl of
Marlborough, the finest diplomatist, as well as the greatest
soldier, of his time.

The struggle which was approaching was a gigantic one. On one side
were France and Spain, open to attack on one side only, and holding
moreover Flanders, and almost the whole of Italy, with the rich
treasures of the Indies upon which to draw for supplies. The
alliance of Bavaria, with a valiant population, extended the
offensive power of the coalition into the heart of Austria.

Upon the other hand were the troops of Austria, England, Holland,
Hanover, Hesse Cassel, and the lesser states of Germany, with a
contingent of troops, from Prussia and Denmark. In point of numbers
the nations ranged on either side were about equal; but while
France, Spain, and Bavaria formed a compact body under the guidance
of Louis, the allies were divided by separate, and often opposing
interests and necessities, while Austria was almost neutralized by
a dangerous Hungarian insurrection that was going on, and by the
danger of a Turkish invasion which the activity of French diplomacy
kept continually hanging over it. The coalition was weakened in the
field by the jealousies of the commanders of the various
nationalities, and still more by the ignorance and timidity of the
Dutch deputies, which Holland insisted on keeping at headquarters,
with the right of veto on all proceedings.

On the side of the allies the following were the arrangements for
the opening of the campaign. A German army under Louis, Margrave of
Baden, was to be collected on the upper Rhine to threaten France on
the side of Alsace. A second corps, 25,000 strong, composed of
Prussian troops and Dutch, under the Prince of Saarbruck, were to
undertake the siege of Kaiserwerth, a small but very important
fortress on the right bank of the Rhine, two leagues below
Dusseldorf. The main army, 35,000 strong, under the Earl of
Athlone, was destined to cover the frontier of Holland, from the
Rhine to the Vecun, and also to cover the siege of Kaiserwerth;
while a fourth body, of 10,000 men, under General Cohorn, were
collected near the mouth of the Scheldt, and threatened the
district of Bruges.

Upon the other side the French had been equally active. On the
Lower Rhine a force was stationed to keep that of Cohorn in check.
Marshal Tallard, with 15,000 men, came down from the Upper Rhine to
interrupt the siege of Kaiserwerth, while the main army, 45,000
strong, under the Duke of Burgundy and Marshal Boufflers, was
posted in the Bishopric of Liege, resting on the tremendous chain
of fortresses of Flanders, all of which were in French possession,
and strongly garrisoned by French and Spanish soldiers.

At the time, however, when the vessel containing Rupert Holliday
and Hugh Parsons sailed up the Scheldt, early in the month of May,
these arrangements were not completed, but both armies were waiting
for the conflict.

The lads had little time for the examination of the Hague, now the
dullest and most quiet of European capitals, but then a bustling
city, full of life and energy; for, with the troops who had arrived
with them, they received orders to march at once to join the camp
formed at Breda. Accustomed to a quiet English country life, the
activity and bustle of camp life were at once astonishing and
delightful. The journey from the Hague had been a pleasant one.
Rupert rode one of the two horses with which the Earl of
Marlborough had presented him, Hugh the other; and as a portion of
the soldiers with them were infantry, the marches were short and
easy; while the stoppages at quaint Dutch villages, the solemn ways
of whose inhabitants, their huge breeches, and disgust at the
disturbance of their usual habits when the troops were quartered
upon them, were a source of great amusement to them.

Upon reaching the camp they soon found their way to their regiment.
Here Rupert presented to Colonel Forbes the letter of recommendation
with which the Earl of Marlborough had provided him, and was at once
introduced by him to his brother officers, most of them young men, but
all some years older than himself. His frank, pleasant, boyish manner
at once won for him a cordial acceptance, and the little cornet, as he
was called in the regiment, soon became a general favourite.

Hugh, who had formally enlisted in the regiment before leaving
England, was on arrival handed over to a sergeant; and the two lads
were, with other recruits, incessantly drilled from morning till
night, to render them efficient soldiers before the day of trial
arrived.

Rupert shared a tent with the other two officers of his troop,
Captain Lauriston, a quiet Scotchman, and Lieutenant Dillon, a
young Irishman, full of fun and life.

There were in camp three regiments of British cavalry and six of
infantry, and as they were far from the seat of war, there was for
the present nothing to do but to drill, and prepare for the coming
campaign. Rupert was delighted with the life, for although the work
for the recruits was hard, the weather was splendid, supplies
abundant--for the Dutch farm wives and their daughters brought
ducks, and geese, and eggs into the camp--and all were in high
spirits at the thought of the approaching campaign. Every night
there were gatherings round the fire, when songs were sung and
stories told. Most of the officers had before campaigned in
Holland, under King William, and many had fought in Ireland, and
had stirring tales of the Boyne, of the siege of Athlone, and of
fierce encounters with the brave but undisciplined Irish.

At the end of a month's hard work, Rupert began to understand his
duties, for in those days the amount of drill deemed necessary for
a trooper was small indeed in proportion to that which he has now
to master. Rupert was already a good rider, and soon learnt where
was his proper place as cornet in each evolution, and the orders
that it behoved him to give. The foot drill was longer and more
difficult, for in those days dragoons fought far more on foot than
is now the case, although at this epoch they had already ceased to
be considered as mounted infantry, and had taken their true place
as cavalry. Rupert's broadsword drill lasted but a very short time;
upon the drill sergeant asking him if he knew anything of that
weapon, he said that he could play at singlestick, but had never
practised with the broadsword. His instructor, however, found that
a very few lessons were sufficient to enable him to perform the
required cuts and guard with sufficient proficiency, and very
speedily claimed the crown which Rupert promised him on his
dismissal from the class.

Week after week passed in inactivity, and the troops chafed
mightily thereat, the more so that stirring events were proceeding
elsewhere. The siege of Kaiserwerth, by a body of 15,000 German
troops, had begun on the 18th of April, and the attack and defence
were alike obstinate and bloody. The Earl of Athlone with his
covering forces lay at Cleves, and a sharp cavalry fight between
1000 of the allied cavalry and 700 French horse took place on the
27th of April. The French were defeated, with the loss of 400 men;
but as the victors lost 300, it is clear that both sides fought
with extreme determination and bravery, such a loss--700 men out of
1700 combatants--being extraordinarily large. The spirit shown by
both sides in this the first fight of the war, was a portent of the
obstinate manner in which all the battles of this great war were
contested. For two months Kaiserwerth nobly defended itself.
Seventy-eight guns and mortars thundered against it night and day.
On the 9th of June the besiegers made a desperate assault and
gained possession of a covered way, but at a cost of 2000 killed
and wounded. A week later the place capitulated after a siege which
had cost the allies 5000 men.

General Boufflers, with his army of 37,000 men, finding himself
unable to raise the siege, determined to make a dash against
Nimeguen, an important frontier fortress of Holland, but which the
supineness of the Dutch Government had allowed to fall into
disrepair. Not only was there no garrison there, but not a gun was
mounted on its walls. The expedition seemed certain of success, and
on the evening of the 9th of June Boufflers moved out from Xanten,
and marched all night. Next day Athlone obtained news of the
movement and started in the evening, his march being parallel with
the French, the hostile armies moving abreast, and at no great
distance from each other.

The cavalry covered the British march, and these were in the
morning attacked by the French horse under the Duke of Burgundy.
The British were outnumbered, but fought with great obstinacy, and
before they fell back, with a loss of 720 men and a convoy of 300
waggons, the infantry had pushed forward, and when the French army
reached Nimeguen its ramparts bristled with British bayonets.
Boufflers, disappointed in his aim, fell back upon the rich
district of Cleves, now open to him, and plundered and ravaged that
fertile country.

Although Kaiserwerth had been taken and Nimeguen saved, the danger
which they had run, and the backward movement of the allied army,
filled the Dutch with consternation.

The time, however, had come when Marlborough himself was to assume
the command, and by his genius, dash, and strategy to alter the
whole complexion of things, and to roll back the tide of war from
the borders of Holland. He had crossed from England early in May, a
few days only after Rupert had sailed; but hitherto he had been
engaged in smoothing obstacles, appeasing jealousies, healing
differences, and getting the whole arrangement of the campaign into
something like working order. At last, everything being fairly in
trim, he set out on the 2nd of July from the Hague, with full power
as commander-in-chief of the allied armies, for Nimeguen. There he
ordered the British troops from Breda, 8000 Germans from
Kaiserwerth, and the contingents of Hesse and Luneburg, 6000
strong, under the Prince of Zell, to join him.

As these reinforcements brought his army up to a strength superior
to that of the French, although Marshal Boufflers had hastily drawn
to him some of the garrisons of the fortresses, the Earl of
Marlborough prepared to strike a great blow. The Dutch deputies who
accompanied the army--and whose timidity and obstinacy a score of
times during the course of the war thwarted all Marlborough's
best-laid plans, and saved the enemy from destruction--interfered
to forbid an attack upon two occasions when an engagement would, as
admitted by French historians, have been fatal to their whole army.
Marlborough therefore was obliged to content himself by outflanking
the French, compelling them to abandon Cleves, to cross the Meuse,
and to fall back into Flanders, with some loss, and great haste and
disorder.

In vain the French marshal endeavoured to take post so as to save
the Meuse fortresses, which stood at the gates of Flanders, and by
their command of the river prevented the allies from using the
chain of water communications to bring up supplies. Marlborough
crossed the line by which his siege train was coming up, and then
pounced upon Venloo, a very strong fortress standing across the
Meuse--that is to say, the town was on one side, the fort of Saint
Michael on the other.

After this chapter, devoted to the necessary task of explaining the
cause and commencement of the great War of Succession, we can
return to the individual fortunes of our hero.



Chapter 7: Venloo.

Upon the 5th dragoons being, with the others lying with it in camp
at Breda, ordered up to join the main army at Nimeguen, Rupert was,
to his great delight, declared to be sufficiently advanced in his
knowledge of drill to take his place regularly in the ranks; and
Hugh and the other recruits also fell into their places in the
various troops among which they were divided, Hugh being, at
Rupert's request, told off to Captain Lauriston's troop. With drums
beating and colours flying, the column from Breda marched into the
allied camp at Duckenberg in front of Nimeguen, where the troops
crowded out to greet this valuable addition of eight infantry
regiments and three of cavalry.

Scarcely were the tents pitched than Rupert heard himself heartily
saluted, and looking round, saw his friends Lord Fairholm and Sir
John Loveday, who being already in camp had at once sought him out.

"By my faith, Master Holliday, the three months have done wonders
for you; you look every inch a soldier," Lord Fairholm said.

"His very moustache is beginning to show," Sir John Loveday said,
laughing.

Rupert joined in the laugh, for in truth he had that very morning
looked anxiously in a glass, and had tried in vain to persuade
himself that the down on his upper lip showed any signs of
thickening or growing.

"Well, and how many unfortunate English, Dutch, and Germans have
you dispatched since we saw you?"

"Oh, please hush," Rupert said anxiously. "No one knows that I have
any idea of fencing, or that I have ever drawn a sword before I
went through my course of the broadsword here. I would not on any
account that any one thought I was a quarrelsome swordster. You
know I really am not, and it has been purely my misfortune that I
have been thrust into these things."

"And you have never told any of your comrades that you have killed
your man? Or that Dalboy proclaimed you in his salle to be one of
the finest blades in Europe?"

"No, indeed," Rupert said. "Why should I, Sir John?"

"Well, all I can say is, Rupert, I admire your modesty as much as
your skill. There are few fellows of your age, or of mine either,
but would hector a little on the strength of such a reputation. I
think that I myself should cock my hat, and point my moustache a
little more fiercely, if I knew that I was the cock of the whole
walk."

Rupert smiled. "I don't think you would, Sir John, especially if
you were as young as I am. I know I have heard my tutor say that
the fellow who is really cock of a school, is generally one of the
quietest and best-tempered fellows going. Not that I mean," he
added hastily, as his companions both laughed, "that I am cock, or
that I am a quiet or very good-tempered fellow. I only meant that I
was not quarrelsome, and have indeed put up more than once with
practical jokings which I might have resented had I not known how
skillful with the sword I am, and that in this campaign I shall
have plenty of opportunities of showing that I am no coward."

"Well spoken, Rupert," Sir John said. "Now we have kept you talking
in the sun an unconscionable time; come over to our tent, and have
something to wash the dust away. We have some fairly good Burgundy,
of which we bought a barrel the other day from a vintner in
Nimeguen, and it must be drunk before we march.

"Are these the officers of your troop? Pray present me."

Rupert introduced his friends to Captain Lauriston and Lieutenant
Dillon, and the invitation was extended to them. For the time,
however, it was necessary to see to the wants of the men, but later
on the three officers went across to the tents of the king's
dragoons, to which regiment Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday both
belonged, and spent a merry evening.

Upon the following day the Earl of Marlborough sent for Rupert and
inquired of him how he liked the life, and how he was getting on;
and begged of him to come to him at any time should he have need of
money, or be in any way so placed as to need his aid. Rupert
thanked him warmly, but replied that he lacked nothing.

The following day the march began, and Rupert shared in the general
indignation felt by the British officers and men at seeing the
splendid opportunities of crushing the enemy--opportunities gained
by the skill and science of their general, and by their own rapid
and fatiguing marches--thrown away by the feebleness and timidity
of the Dutch deputies. When the siege of Venloo began the main body
of the army was again condemned to inactivity, and the cavalry had
of course nothing to do with the siege.

The place was exceedingly strong, but the garrison was weak,
consisting only of six battalions of infantry and 300 horse.
Cohorn, the celebrated engineer, directed the siege operations, for
which thirty-two battalions of infantry and thirty-six squadrons of
horse were told off, the Prince of Nassau Saarbruch being in
command.

Two squadrons of the 5th dragoons, including the troop to which
Rupert belonged, formed part of the force. The work was by no means
popular with the cavalry, as they had little to do, and lost their
chance of taking part in any great action that Boufflers might
fight with Marlborough to relieve the town. The investment began on
the 4th? of September, the efforts of the besiegers being directed
against Fort Saint Michael at the opposite side of the river, but
connected by a bridge of boats to the town.

On the 17th the breaches were increasing rapidly in size, and it
was whispered that the assault would be made on the evening of the
18th, soon after dusk.

"It will be a difficult and bloody business," Captain Lauriston
said, as they sat in their tent that evening. "The garrison of Fort
Saint Michael is only 800, but reinforcements will of course pour
in from the town directly the attack begins, and it may be more
than our men can do to win the place. You remember how heavily the
Germans suffered in their attack on the covered way of Kaiserwerth."

"I should think the best thing to do would be to break down the
bridge of boats before beginning the attack," Lieutenant Dillon
remarked.

"Yes, that would be an excellent plan if it could be carried out,
but none of our guns command it."

"We might launch a boat with straw or combustibles from above,"
Rupert said, "and burn it."

"You may be very sure that they have got chains across the river
above the bridge, to prevent any attempt of that kind," Captain
Lauriston said.

Presently the captain, who was on duty, went out for his rounds,
and Rupert, who had been sitting thoughtfully, said, "Look here,
Dillon, I am a good swimmer, and it seems to me that it would be
easy enough to put two or three petards on a plank--I noticed some
wood on the bank above the town yesterday--and to float down to the
bridge, to fasten them to two or three of the boats, and so to
break the bridge; your cousin in the engineers could manage to get
us the petards. What do you say?"

The young Irishman looked at the lad in astonishment.

"Are you talking seriously?" he asked.

"Certainly; why not?"

"They'd laugh in your face if you were to volunteer," Dillon said.

"But I shouldn't volunteer; I should just go and do it."

"Yes, but after it was done, instead of getting praise--that is, if
you weren't killed--you'd be simply told you had no right to
undertake such an affair."

"But I should never say anything about it," Rupert said. "I should
just do it because it would be a good thing to do, and would save
the lives of some of our grenadiers, who will, likely enough, lead
the assault. Besides, it would be an adventure, like any other."

Dillon looked at him for some time.

"You are a curious fellow, Holliday. I would agree to join you in
the matter, but I cannot swim a stroke. Pat Dillon cares as little
for his life as any man; and after all, there's no more danger in
it than in going out in a duel; and I could do that without
thinking twice."

"Well, I shall try it," Rupert said quietly. "Hugh can swim as well
as I can, and I'll take him. But can you get me the petards?"

"I dare say I could manage that," Dillon said, entering into the
scheme with all an Irishman's love of excitement. "But don't you
think I could go too, though I can't swim? I could stick tight to
the planks, you know."

"No," Rupert said seriously, "that would not do. We may be
detected, and may have to dive, and all sorts of things. No,
Dillon, it would not do. But if you can get the petards, you will
have the satisfaction of knowing that you have done your share of
the work; and then you might, if you could, ride round in the
evening with my uniform and Hugh's in your valise. If you go on to
the bank half a mile or so below the town, every one will be
watching the assault, and we can get ashore, put on our clothes,
and get back home without a soul being the wiser."

"And suppose you are killed?"

"Pooh, I shall not be killed!" Rupert said. "But I shall leave a
letter, which you can find in the morning if I do not come back,
saying I have undertaken this adventure in hope of benefiting
her Majesty's arms; that I do it without asking permission; but
that I hope that my going beyond my duty will be forgiven, in
consideration that I have died in her Majesty's service."

The next day at two o'clock, Lieutenant Dillon, who had been away
for an hour, beckoned to Rupert that he wanted to speak to him
apart.

"I have seen my cousin Gerald, but he will not let me have the
petards unless he knows for what purpose they are to be used. I
said as much as I could without betraying your intentions, but I
think he guessed them; for he said, 'Look here, Pat, if there is
any fun and adventure on hand, I will make free with her gracious
Majesty's petards, on condition that I am in it.' He's up to fun of
every kind, Gerald is; and can, I know, swim like a fish. What do
you say, shall I tell him?"

"Do, by all means," Rupert said. "I have warned Hugh of what I am
going to do, and he would never forgive me if I did not take him;
but if your cousin will go, all the better, for he will know far
better than I how to fix the petards. You can tell him I shall be
glad to act under his orders; and if it succeeds, and he likes to
let it be known the part which he has played in the matter--which
indeed would seem to be within the scope of his proper duties, he
being an engineer--I shall be glad for him to do so, it always
being understood that he does not mention my name in any way."

Half-an-hour later Dillon entered, to say that his cousin agreed heartily
to take a part in the adventure, and that he would shortly come up to
arrange the details with Rupert. Rupert had met Gerald Dillon before,
and knew him to be as wild, adventurous, and harum-scarum a young officer
as his cousin Pat; and in half-an-hour's talk the whole matter was settled.

Gerald would take two petards, which weighed some twenty pounds
each, to his tent, one by one. Hugh should fetch them in a basket,
one by one, to the river bank, at the spot where a balk of wood had
been washed ashore by some recent floods. At seven in the evening
Gerald should call upon his cousin, and on leaving, accompany
Rupert to the river bank, where Hugh would be already in waiting.
When they had left, Pat Dillon should start on horseback with the
three uniforms in his valise, the party hiding the clothes in which
they left the camp, under the bank at their place of starting.

The plan was carried out as arranged, and soon after seven o'clock
Rupert Holliday and Gerald Dillon, leaving the camp, strolled down
to the river, on whose bank Hugh was already sitting. The day had
been extremely hot, and numbers of soldiers were bathing in the
river. It was known that the assault was to take place that night,
but as the cavalry would take no part in it, the soldiers, with
their accustomed carelessness, paid little heed to the matter. As
it grew dusk, the bathers one by one dressed and left, until only
the three watchers remained. Then Rupert called Hugh, who had been
sitting at a short distance, to his side; they then stripped, and
carefully concealed their clothes. The petards were taken out from
beneath a heap of stones, where Hugh had hid them, and were fixed
on the piece of timber, one end of which was just afloat in the
stream. By their side was placed some lengths of fuse, a brace of
pistols, a long gimlet, some hooks, and cord. Then just as it was
fairly dark the log was silently pushed into the water, and
swimming beside it, with one hand upon it, the little party started
upon their adventurous expedition.

The log was not very large, although of considerable length, and
with the petards upon it, it showed but little above water. The
point where they had embarked was fully two miles above the town,
and it was more than an hour before the stream took them abreast of
it. Although it was very dark, they now floated on their backs by
the piece of timber, so as to show as little as possible to any who
might be on the lookout, for of all objects the round outline of a
human head is one of the most easily recognized.

Presently they came, as they had expected, to a floating boom,
composed of logs of timber chained together. Here the piece of
timber came to a standstill. No talk was necessary, as the course
under these circumstances had been already agreed to. The petards
and other objects were placed on the boom, upon which Rupert, as
the lightest of the party, crept, holding in his hand a cord
fastened round the log. Hugh and Gerald Dillon now climbed upon one
end of the log, which at once sank into the water below the level
of the bottom of the boom, and the current taking it, swept it
beneath the obstacle. Rupert's rope directed its downward course,
and it was soon alongside the boom, but on the lower side.

The petards were replaced, and the party again proceeded; but now
Hugh swam on his back, holding a short rope attached to one end, so
as to keep the log straight, and prevent its getting across the
mooring chains of the boats forming the bridge; while Rupert and
Gerald, each with a rope also attached to the log, floated down
some ten or twelve yards on either side of the log, but a little
behind it. The plan answered admirably; the stream carried the log
end-foremost between two of the boats, which were moored twelve
feet apart, while Gerald and Rupert each floated on the other side
of the mooring chains of the boats; round these chains they twisted
the ropes, and by them the log lay anchored as it were under the
bridge, and between two of the boats forming it. If there were any
sentries on the bridge, these neither saw nor heard them, their
attention being absorbed by the expectation of an attack upon the
breaches of Fort Saint Michael.

The party now set to work. With the gimlet holes were made a couple
of feet above the water. In them the hooks were inserted, and from
these the petards were suspended by ropes, so as to lie against the
sides of the boats, an inch only above the water's level. The fuses
were inserted; and all being now in readiness for blowing a hole in
the side of the two boats, they regained the log, and awaited the
signal.

The time passed slowly; but as the church clocks of the town struck
eleven, a sudden outburst of musketry broke out round Saint
Michael's. In an instant the cannon of the fort roared out, the
bells clanged the alarm, blue fires were lighted, and the dead
silence was succeeded by a perfect chaos of sounds.

The party under the bridge waited quietly, until the noise as of a
large body of men coming upon the bridge from the town end was
heard. At the first outbreak Gerald Dillon had, with some
difficulty, lit first some tinder, and then a slow match, from a
flint and steel--all of these articles having been most carefully
kept dry during the trip, with the two pistols, which were intended
to fire the fuses, should the flint and steel fail to produce a
light.

As the sound of the reinforcements coming on to the bridge was
heard, Gerald Dillon on one side, Rupert Holliday on the other,
left the log, and swam with a slow match in hand to the boats. In
another instant the fuses were lighted, and the three companions
swam steadily downstream.

In twenty seconds a loud explosion was heard, followed almost
instantaneously by another, and the swimmers knew that their object
had been successful, that two of the boats forming the bridge would
sink immediately, and that, the connexion being thus broken, no
reinforcements from the town could reach the garrison of the Fort
Saint Michael. Loud shouts were heard upon the bridge as the
swimmers struck steadily down stream, while the roar of the
musketry from Fort Saint Michael was unremitting.

Half an hour later the three adventurers landed, at a point where a
lantern had, according to arrangement, been placed at the water's
edge by Pat Dillon, who was in waiting with their clothes, and who
received them with an enthusiastic welcome. Five minutes later they
were on their way back to their camp.

In the meantime the battle had raged fiercely round Fort Saint
Michael. The attack had been made upon two breaches. The British
column, headed by the grenadiers, and under the command of Lord
Cutts, attacked the principal breach. The French opposed a
desperate defence. With Lord Cutts as volunteers were Lord
Huntingdon, Lord Lorn, Sir Richard Temple, and Mr. Dalrymple, and
these set a gallant example to their men.

On arriving at a high breastwork, Lord Huntingdon, who was weakened
by recent attack of fever, was unable to climb over it.

"Five guineas," he shouted, "to the man who will help me over!"

Even among the storm of balls there was a shout of laughter as the
nobleman held out his purse, and a dozen willing hands soon lifted
him over the obstacle.

Then on the troops swept, stormed the covered way, carried the
ravelin, and forced their way up the breach. The French fought
staunchly; and well it was for the British that no reinforcements
could reach them from Venloo, and that the original 800 garrisoning
the fort were alone in their defence. As it was, the place was
stormed, 200 of the French made prisoners, and the rest either
killed or drowned in endeavouring to cross the river.

The French in Venloo, upon finding that the fort had fallen, broke
up the rest of the bridge; and although there was some surprise in
the British camp that no reinforcements had been sent over to aid
the garrison, none knew that the bridge had been broken at the
commencement of the attack, consequently there were neither talk
nor inquiries; and those concerned congratulated themselves that
their adventure had been successful, and that, as no one knew
anything of it, they could, should occasion offer, again undertake
an expedition on their own account.

The day after the capture of Saint Michael's, strong fatigue
parties were set to work, erecting batteries to play across the
river on the town. These were soon opened, and after a few days'
further resistance, the place surrendered, on the condition of the
garrison being free to march to Antwerp, then in French possession.

The towns of Ruremond and Stevenswort were now invested, and
surrendered after a short resistance; and thus the Maas was opened
as a waterway for the supplies for the army.

The Dutch Government, satisfied with the successes so far, would
have now had the army go into winter quarters; but Marlborough,
with great difficulty, persuaded them to consent to his undertaking
the siege of Liege, a most important town and fortress, whose
possession would give to the allies the command of the Meuse--or
Maas--into the very heart of Flanders.

Marshal Boufflers, ever watching the movements of Marlborough,
suspected that Liege would be his next object of attack, and
accordingly reconnoitred the ground round that city, and fixed on a
position which would, he thought, serve admirably for the
establishment of a permanent camp.

The news was, however, brought to Marlborough, who broke up his
camp the same night; and when the French army approached Liege,
they found the allies established on the very ground which the
Marshal had selected for their camp. All unsuspecting the presence
of the English, the French came on in order of march until within
cannon shot of the allies, and another splendid opportunity was
thus given to Marlborough to attack the main body of the enemy
under most advantageous circumstances.

The Dutch deputies again interposed their veto, and the English had
the mortification of seeing the enemy again escape from their
hands.

However, there was now nothing to prevent their undertaking the
siege of Liege, and on the 20th of October the regular investment
of the place was formed.

The strength of Liege consisted in its citadel and the Fort of
Chatreuse, both strongly fortified. The town itself, a wealthy
city, and so abounding in churches that it was called "Little
Rome," was defended only by a single wall. It could clearly offer
no defence against the besiegers, and therefore surrendered at the
first summons, the garrison, 5000 strong, retiring to the citadel
and Fort Saint Chatreuse, which mounted fifty guns. Siege was at
once laid to the citadel, and with such extraordinary vigour was
the attack pushed forward, under the direction of General Cohorn,
that upon the 23rd of October, three days only after the investment
commenced, the breaches in the counter-scarp were pronounced
practicable, and an assault was immediately ordered. The allies
attacked with extreme bravery, and the citadel was carried by
storm--here as at Venloo, the British troops being the first who
scaled the breach. Thus 2000 prisoners were taken; and the garrison
of Fort Chatreuse were so disheartened at the speedy fall of the
citadel, that they capitulated a few days later.

This brought the first campaign of the war to an end. It had been
very short, but its effect had been great. Kaiserwerth had been
taken, and the Lower Rhine opened; four fortified places on the
Meuse had been captured; the enemy had been driven back from the
borders of Holland; and the allied army had, in the possession of
Liege, an advanced post in the heart of Flanders for the
recommencement of the campaign in the spring. And all this had been
done in the face of a large French army, which had never ventured
to give battle even to save the beleaguered fortresses.

The army now went into winter quarters, and Marlborough returned at
once to England.

Upon the voyage down the Meuse, in company with the Dutch
commissioners, he had a very narrow escape. The boat was captured
by a French partisan leader, who had made an incursion to the
river. The earl had with him an old servant named Gill, who, with
great presence of mind, slipped into his master's hand an old
passport made out in the name of General Churchill. The French,
intent only upon plunder, and not recognizing under the name of
Churchill their great opponent Marlborough, seized all the plate
and valuables in the boat, made prisoners of the small detachment
of soldiers on board, but suffered the rest of the passengers,
including the earl and the Dutch commissioners, to pass unmolested.

Thus, had it not been for the presence of mind of an old servant,
the Earl of Marlborough would have been taken a prisoner to France;
and since it was his genius and diplomatic power alone which kept
the alliance together, and secured victory for their arms, the
whole issue of the war, the whole future of Europe, would have been
changed.



Chapter 8: The Old Mill.

A considerable portion of the allied army were quartered in the
barracks and forts of Liege, in large convents requisitioned for
the purpose, and in outlying villages. The 5th dragoons had
assigned to them a convent some two miles from the town. The monks
had moved out, and gone to an establishment of the same order in
the town, and the soldiers were therefore left to make the best
they could of their quarters. There was plenty of room for the men,
but for the horses there was some difficulty. The cloisters were
very large, and these were transformed into stables, and boards
were fastened up on the open faces to keep out the cold; others
were stalled in sheds and outbuildings; and the great refectory, or
dining hall, was also strewn thick with straw, and filled with four
rows of horses.

In the afternoon the officers generally rode or walked down into
the town. One day, Rupert Holliday with Pat Dillon had met their
friends Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday, whose regiment was
quartered in the town, at the principal wine shop, a large
establishment, which was the great gathering place of the officers
of the garrison. There an immense variety of bright uniforms were
to be seen; English, German, and Dutch, horse, foot, and artillery;
while the serving men hurried about through the throng with trays
piled with beer mugs, or with wine and glasses.

"Who is that officer," Dillon asked, "in the Hessian cavalry
uniform? Methinks he eyes you with no friendly look."

Rupert and his friends glanced at the officer pointed out.

"It is that fellow Fulke," Sir John said. "I heard he had managed
to obtain a commission in the army of the Landgrave of Hesse. You
must keep a smart lookout, Master Rupert, for his presence bodes
you no good. He is in fitting company; that big German officer next
to him is the Graff Muller, a turbulent swashbuckler, but a famous
swordsman--a fellow who would as soon run you through as look at
you, and who is a disgrace to the Margrave's army, in which I
wonder much that he is allowed to stay."

"Who is the fellow you are speaking of?" Dillon asked.

"A gentleman with whom our friend Rupert had a difference of
opinion," Sir John Loveday laughed. "There is a blood feud between
them. Seriously, the fellow has a grudge against our friend, and as
he is the sort of man to gratify himself without caring much as to
the means he uses, I should advise Master Holliday not to trust
himself out alone after dark. There are plenty of ruined men in
these German regiments who would willingly cut a throat for a
guinea, especially if offered them by one of their own officers."

"The scoundrel is trying to get Muller to take up his quarrel, or I
am mistaken," Lord Fairholm, who had been watching the pair
closely, said. "They are glancing this way, and Fulke has been
talking earnestly. But ruffian as he is, Muller is of opinion that
for a notorious swordsman like him to pick a quarrel with a lad
like our friend would be too rank, and would, if he killed him,
look so much like murder that even he dare not face it; he has
shaken his head very positively."

"But why should not this Fulke take the quarrel in his own hands?"
Dillon asked, surprised. "Unless he is the rankest of cowards he
might surely consider himself a match for our little cornet?"

"Our little cornet has a neat hand with the foils," Lord Fairholm
said drily, "and Master Fulke is not unacquainted with the fact."

"Why, Rupert," Dillon said, turning to him, "you have never said
that you ever had a foil in your hand!"

"You never asked me," Rupert said, smiling. "But I have practised
somewhat with the colonel my grandfather. And now it is time to be
off, Dillon; we have to walk back."

Four days later, as Rupert Holliday was standing in the barrack
yard, his troop having just been dismissed drill, a trooper of the
1st dragoons rode into the yard, and after asking a question of one
of the men, rode up to him and handed him a note.

Somewhat surprised he opened it, and read as follows:

"My dear Master Holliday--Sir John Loveday and myself are engaged
in an adventure which promises some entertainment, albeit it is not
without a spice of danger. We need a good comrade who can on
occasion use his sword, and we know that we can rely on you. On
receipt of this, please mount your horse and ride to the old mill
which lies back from the road in the valley beyond Dettinheim.
There you will find your sincere friend, Fairholm.

"P.S. It would be as well not to mention whither you are going to
ride."

It was the first note that Rupert had received from Lord Fairholm,
and delighted at the thought of an adventure, he called Hugh, and
bade him saddle his horse.

"Shall I go with you, Master Rupert?" Hugh asked, for he generally
rode behind Rupert as his orderly.

Rupert did not answer for a moment. Lord Fairholm had asked him to
tell no one; but he meant, no doubt, that he should tell none of
his brother officers. On Hugh's silence, whatever happened, he
could rely, and he would be useful to hold the horses. At any rate,
if not wanted, he could return.

"Ay, Hugh, you can come; and look you, slip a brace of pistols
quietly into each of our holsters."

With a momentary look of surprise, Hugh withdrew to carry out his
instructions; and ten minutes later, Rupert, followed by his
orderly, rode out of the convent.

The mill in question lay some three miles distant, and about half a
mile beyond the little hamlet of Dettinheim. It stood some distance
from the road, up a quiet valley, and was half hidden in trees. It
had been worked by a stream that ran down the valley. It was a
dark, gloomy-looking structure; and the long green weeds that hung
from the great wheel, where the water from the overshot trough
splashed and tumbled over it, showed that it had been for some time
abandoned. These things had been noticed by Rupert when riding past
it some time before, for, struck with the appearance of the mill,
he had ridden up the valley to inspect it.

On his ride to Lord Fairholm's rendezvous, he wondered much what
could be the nature of the adventure in which they were about to
embark. He knew that both his friends were full of life and high
spirits, and his thoughts wandered between some wild attempt to
carry off a French officer of importance, or an expedition to
rescue a lovely damsel in distress. Hugh, equally wondering, but
still more ignorant of the nature of the expedition, rode quietly
on behind.

The road was an unfrequented one, and during the last two miles'
ride they did not meet a single person upon it. The hamlet of
Dettinheim contained four or five houses only, and no one seemed
about. Another five minutes' riding took them to the entrance to
the little valley in which the mill stood. They rode up to it, and
then dismounted.

"It's a lonesome dismal-looking place, Master Rupert. It doesn't
seem to bode good. Of course you know what you're come for, sir;
but I don't like the look of the place, nohow."

"It does not look cheerful, Hugh; but I am to meet Lord Fairholm
and Sir John Loveday here."

"I don't see any sign of them, Master Rupert. I'd be careful if I
were you, for it's just the sort of place for a foul deed to be
done in. It does not look safe."

"It looks old and haunted," Rupert said; "but as that is its
natural look, I don't see it can help it. The door is open, so my
friends are here."

"Look out, Master Rupert; you may be running into a snare."

Rupert paused a moment, and the thought flashed across his mind
that it might, as Hugh said, be a snare; but with Lord Fairholm's
letter in his pocket, he dismissed the idea.

"You make me nervous, Hugh, with your suggestions. Nevertheless I
will be on my guard;" and he drew his sword as he entered the mill.

As he did so, Hugh, who was holding the horses' bridles over his
arm, snatched a brace of pistols from the holsters, cocked them,
and stood eagerly listening. He heard Rupert walk a few paces
forward, and then pause, and shout "Where are you, Fairholm?"

Then he heard a rush of heavy feet, a shout from Rupert, a clash of
swords, and a scream of agony.

All this was the work of a second; and as Hugh dropped the reins
and rushed forward to his master's assistance, he heard a noise
behind him, and saw a dozen men issue from behind the trees, and
run towards him.

Coming from the light, Hugh could with difficulty see what was
taking place in the darkened chamber before him. In an instant,
however, he saw Rupert standing with his back to a wall, with a
dead man at his feet, and four others hacking and thrusting at him.
Rushing up, Hugh fired his two pistols. One of the men dropped to
the ground, the other with an oath reeled backwards.

"Quick, sir! there are a dozen men just upon us."

Rupert ran one of his opponents through the shoulder, and as the
other drew back shouted to Hugh, "Up the stairs, Hugh! Quick!"

The two lads sprang up the wide steps leading to the floor above,
just as the doorway was darkened by a mass of men. The door at the
top of the steps yielded to their rush, the rotten woodwork giving,
and the door falling to the ground. Two or three pistol bullets
whizzed by their ears, just as they leapt through the opening.

"Up another floor, Hugh; and easy with the door."

The door at the top of the next ladder creaked heavily as they
pushed it back on its hinges.

"Look about, Hugh, for something to pile against it."

The shutters of the window were closed, but enough light streamed
through the chinks and crevices for them to see dimly. There was
odd rubbish strewn all about, and in one corner a heap of decaying
sacks. To these both rushed, and threw some on the floor by the
door, placing their feet on them to keep them firm, just as with a
rush the men came against it. This door was far stronger than the
one below, but it gave before the weight.

"The hinges will give," Hugh exclaimed; but at the moment Rupert
passed his thin rapier through one of the chinks of the rough
boards which formed it, and a yell was heard on the outside. The
pressure against the door ceased instantly; and Rupert bade Hugh
run for some more sacks, while he threw himself prone on them on
the ground.

It was well he did so, for, as he expected, a half-dozen pistol
shots were heard, and the bullets crashed through the woodwork.

"Keep out of the line of fire, Hugh."

Hugh did so, and threw down the sacks close to the door. Several
times he ran backwards and forwards across the room, the assailants
still firing through the door. Then Rupert leapt up, and the pile
of sacks were rapidly heaped against the door, just as the men
outside, in hopes that they had killed the defenders, made another
rush against it.

This time, however, the pile of sacks had given it strength and
solidity, and it hardly shook under the assault. Then came volleys
of curses and imprecations, in German, from outside; and then the
lads could hear the steps descend the stairs, and a loud and angry
consultation take place below.

"Open the shutters, Hugh, and let us see where we are."

It was a chamber of some forty feet square, and, like those below
it, of considerable height. It was like the rest of the mill, built
of rough pine, black with age. It had evidently been used as a
granary.

"This is a nice trap we have fallen into, Hugh, and I doubt me if
Lord Fairholm ever saw the letter with his name upon it which lured
me here. However, that is not the question now; the thing is how we
are to get out of the trap. How many were there outside, do you
think?"

"There seemed to me about a dozen, Master Rupert, but I got merely
a blink at them."

"If it were not for their pistols we might do something, Hugh; but
as it is, it is hopeless."

Looking out from the window they saw that it was over the great
water wheel, whose top was some fifteen feet below them, with the
water running to waste from the inlet, which led from the reservoir
higher up the valley.

Presently they heard a horse gallop up to the front of the mill,
and shortly after the sound of a man's voice raised in anger. By
this time it was getting dark.

"What'll be the end of this, Master Rupert? We could stand a siege
for a week, but they'd hardly try that."

"What's that?" Rupert said. "There's some one at the door again."

They came back, but all was quiet. Listening attentively, however,
they heard a creaking, as of someone silently descending the
stairs. For some time all was quiet, except that they could hear
movements in the lower story of the mill. Presently Rupert grasped
Hugh's arm.

"Do you smell anything, Hugh?"

"Yes, sir, I smell a smoke."

"The scoundrels have set the mill on fire, Hugh."

In another minute or two the smell became stronger, and then
wreaths of smoke could be seen curling up through the crevices in
the floor.

"Run through the other rooms, Hugh; let us see if there is any
means of getting down."

There were three other rooms, but on opening the shutters they
found in each case a sheer descent of full forty feet to the
ground, there being no outhouses whose roofs would afford them a
means of descent.

"We must rush downstairs, Hugh. It is better to be shot as we go
out, than be roasted here."

Rapidly they tore away the barrier of sacks, and Rupert put his
thumb on the latch. He withdrew it with a sharp exclamation.

"They have jammed the latch, Hugh. That was what that fellow we
heard was doing."

The smoke was now getting very dense, and they could with
difficulty breathe. Rupert put his head out of the window.

"There is a little window just over the wheel," he said. "If we
could get down to the next floor we might slip out of that and get
in the wheel without being noticed.

"Look about, Hugh," he exclaimed suddenly; "there must be a
trapdoor somewhere for lowering the sacks. There is a wheel hanging
to the ceiling; the trap must be under that."

In a minute the trap was found, and raised. The smoke rushed up in
a volume, and the boys looked with dismay at the dense murk below.

"It's got to be done, Hugh. Tie that bit of sacking, quick, over
your nose and mouth, while I do the same. Now lower yourself by
your arms, and drop; it won't be above fifteen feet. Hold your
breath, and rush straight to the window. I heard them open it. Now,
both together now."

The lads fell over their feet, and were in another minute at the
window. The broad top of the great wheel stretched out level with
them, hiding the window from those who might have been standing
below. The wheel itself was some thirty feet in diameter, and was
sunk nearly half its depth in the ground, the water running off by
a deep tail race.

"We might lie flat on the top of the wheel," Hugh said.

"We should be roasted to death when the mill is fairly in flames.
No, Hugh; we must squeeze through this space between the wall and
the wheel, slip down by the framework, and keep inside the wheel.
There is no fear of that burning, and we shall get plenty of fresh
air down below the level of the mill.

"I will go first, Hugh. Mind how you go, for these beams are all
slimy; get your arm well round, and slip down as far as the axle."

It was not an easy thing to do, and Rupert lost his hold and
slipped down the last ten feet, hurting himself a good deal in his
fall. He was soon on his feet again, and helped to break the fall
of Hugh, who lost his hold and footing at the axle, and would have
hurt himself greatly, had not Rupert caught him, both boys falling
with a crash in the bottom of the wheel.

They were some little time before regaining their feet, for both
were much hurt. Their movements were, however, accelerated by the
water, which fell in a heavy shower from above, through the leaks
in the buckets of the wheel.

"Are you hurt much, Master Rupert?"

"I don't think I am broken at all, Hugh, but I am hurt all over.
How are you?"

"I am all right, I think. It's lucky the inside of this wheel is
pretty smooth, like a big drum."

The position was not a pleasant one. A heavy shower of water from
above filled the air with spray, and with their heads bent down it
was difficult to breathe. The inside planks of the wheel were so
slimy that standing was almost impossible, and at the slightest
attempt at movement they fell. Above, the flames were already
darting out through the windows and sides of the mill.

"Do you not think we might crawl out between the wheel and the
wall, and make our way down the tail race, Master Rupert? This
water is chilling me to the bones."

"I think it safer to stop where we are, Hugh. Those fellows are
sure to be on the watch. They will expect to see us jump out of the
upper window the last thing, and will wait to throw our bodies--for
of course we should be killed--into the flames, to hide all trace
of us. We have only to wait quietly here. It is not pleasant; but
after all the trouble we have had to save our lives, it would be a
pity to risk them again. And I have a very particular desire to be
even with that fellow, who is, I doubt not, at the bottom of all
this."

Soon the flames were rushing out in great sheets from the mill, and
even in the wheel the heat of the atmosphere was considerable.
Presently a great crash was heard inside.

"There is a floor fallen," Rupert said. "I think we may move now;
those fellows will have made off secure that--

"Hullo! What's that?"

The exclamation was caused by a sudden creaking noise, and the
great wheel began slowly to revolve. The fall of the floor had
broken its connection with the machinery in the mill, and left
free, it at once yielded to the weight of the water in its buckets.
The supply of water coming down was small, and the wheel stiff from
long disuse, therefore it moved but slowly. The motion, however,
threw both lads from their feet, and once down, the rotatory motion
rendered it impossible for them to regain their feet.

After the first cry of surprise, neither spoke; across both their
minds rushed the certainty of death.

How long the terrible time that followed lasted, neither of them
ever knew. The sensation was that of being pounded to death. At one
moment they were together, then separated; now rolling over and
over in a sort of ball, then lifted up and cast down into the
bottom of the wheel with a crash; now with their heads highest, now
with their feet. It was like a terrible nightmare; but gradually
the sharp pain of the blows and falls were less vivid--a dull
sensation came over them--and both lost consciousness.

Rupert was the first to open his eyes, and for a time lay but in
dreamy wonder as to where he was, and what had happened. He seemed
to be lying under a great penthouse, with a red glow pervading
everything. Gradually his thoughts took shape, and he remembered
what had passed, and struggling painfully into a sitting position,
looked round.

The wheel no longer revolved; there was no longer the constant
splash of water. Indeed the wheel existed as a wheel no longer.

As he looked round the truth lighted upon him. The burning mill had
fallen across the wheel, crushing, at the top, the sides together.
The massive timber had given no further, and the wheel formed a
sort of roof, sloping from the outer wall, built solidly up against
it, to the opposite foot. Above, the timber of this wall glared and
flickered, but the soddened timber of the wheel could have resisted
a far greater amount of heat. The leet had of course been carried
away with the fall, and the water would be flowing down the valley.
The heat was very great, but the rush of air up the deep cut of the
mill race rendered it bearable.

Having once grasped the facts--and as he doubted not the fall must
have occurred soon after he lost consciousness, and so saved him
from being bruised to death--Rupert turned to Hugh.

He was quite insensible, but his heart still beat. Rupert crawled
out of the wheel, and found pools of water in the mill race, from
which he brought double handfuls, and sprinkled Hugh's face. Then
as he himself grew stronger from fresh air and a copious dousing of
his face and head with water, he dragged Hugh out, and laying him
beside a pool dashed water on his face and chest. A deep sigh was
the first symptom of returning consciousness. He soon, to Rupert's
delight, opened his eyes.

After a time he sat up, but was too much hurt to rise. After some
consultation, Rupert left him, and went alone down to the hamlet of
Dettinheim, where, after much knocking, he roused some of the
inhabitants, who had only a short time before returned from the
burning mill. Sodden and discoloured as it was, Rupert's uniform
was still recognizable, and by the authority this conveyed, and a
promise of ample reward, four men were induced to return with him
to the mill, and carry Hugh down to the village.

This they reached just as the distant clock of Liege cathedral
struck two. A bed was given up to them, and in half an hour both
lads were sound asleep.



Chapter 9: The Duel.

Great was the excitement in the 5th Dragoons when, upon the arrival
of Rupert and Hugh--the former of whom was able to ride, but the
latter was carried by on a stretcher--they learned the attack which
had been made upon one of their officers. The "Little Cornet" was a
general favourite, short as was the time since he had joined; while
Hugh was greatly liked by the men of his own troop. Rupert's
colonel at once sent for him, to learn the particulars of the
outrage. Rupert was unable to give farther particulars as to his
assailants than that they were German soldiers; that much the dim
light had permitted him to see, but more than that he could not
say. He stated his reasons for believing Sir Richard Fulke was the
originator of the attack, since he had had a quarrel with him in
England, but owned that, beyond suspicions, he had no proof. The
colonel at once rode down to headquarters, and laid a complaint
before the Earl of Athlone, who promised that he would cause every
inquiry to be made. Then the general commanding the Hesse
contingent was communicated with, and the colonel of the cavalry
regiment to which Sir Richard Fulke belonged was sent for.

He stated that Captain Fulke had been away on leave of absence for
three days, and that he had gone to England. The regiment was,
however, paraded, and it was found that five troopers were missing.
No inquiry, however, could elicit from any of the others a
confession that they had been engaged in any fray, and as all were
reported as having been in by ten o'clock, except the five missing
men, there was no clue as to the parties engaged. The five men
might have deserted, but the grounds for suspicion were very
strong. Still, as no proof could be obtained, the matter was
suffered to drop.

The affair caused, however, much bad feeling between the two
regiments, and the men engaged in affrays when they met, until the
order was issued that they should only be allowed leave into the
town on alternate days. This ill feeling spread, however, beyond
the regiments concerned. There had already been a good deal of
jealousy upon the part of the Continental troops of the honour
gained by the British in being first in at the breaches of Venloo
and Liege, and this feeling was now much embittered. Duels between
the officers became matters of frequent occurrence, in spite of the
strict orders issued against that practice.

As Rupert had anticipated, the letter by which he had been
entrapped turned out a forgery. Lord Fairholm was extremely
indignant when he heard the use that had been made of his name, and
at once made inquiries as to the trooper who had carried the note
to Rupert. This man he found without difficulty; upon being
questioned, he stated that he had just returned from carrying a
message when he was accosted by a German officer who offered him a
couple of marks to carry a letter up to an officer of the 5th
dragoons. Thinking that there was no harm in doing so, he had at
once accepted the offer. Upon being asked if he could recognize the
officer if he saw him, he replied that he had scarcely noticed his
face, and did not think that he could pick him out from others.

The first three or four duels which took place had not been
attended with fatal result; but about three weeks after the
occurrence of the attack on Rupert, Captain Muller, who had been
away on leave, returned, and publicly announced his intention of
avenging the insult to his regiment by insulting and killing one of
the officers of the 5th dragoons.

The report of the threat caused some uneasiness among the officers,
for the fellow's reputation as a swordsman and notorious duellist
was so well known, that it was felt that any one whom he might
select as his antagonist would be as good as a dead man. A
proposition was started to report the matter to the general, but
this was decisively negatived, as it would have looked like a
request for protection, and would so affect the honour of the
regiment.

There was the satisfaction that but one victim could be slain, for
the aggressor in a fatal duel was sure to be punished by removal
into some corps stationed at a distance.

Rupert was silent during these discussions, but he silently
determined that he would, if the opportunity offered, take up the
gauntlet, for he argued that he was the primary cause of the feud;
and remembering the words of Monsieur Dessin and Maitre Dalboy, he
thought that, skillful a swordsman as Muller might be, he would yet
have at least a fair chance of victory, while he knew that so much
could not be said for any of the other officers of his regiment.

The opportunity occurred two days later. Rupert, with his friend
Dillon, went down to the large saloon, which was the usual
rendezvous with his friends Fairholm and Loveday. The place was
crowded with officers, but Rupert soon perceived his friends,
sitting at a small table. He and Dillon placed two chairs there
also, and were engaged in conversation when a sudden lull in the
buzz of talk caused them to look up.

Captain Muller had just entered the saloon with a friend, and the
lull was caused by curiosity. As his boast had been the matter of
public talk; and as all noticed that two officers of the 5th were
present, it was anticipated that a scene would ensue.

A glance at Dillon's face showed that the blood had left his cheek;
for, brave as the Irishman was, the prospect of being killed like a
dog by this native swordsman could not but be terrible to him, and
he did not doubt for a moment that he would be selected. Captain
Muller walked leisurely up to the bar, drank off a bumper of raw
Geneva, and then turned and looked round the room. As his eyes fell
on the uniform of the 5th, a look of satisfaction came over his
face, and fixing his eyes on Dillon, he walked leisurely across the
room.

Rupert happened to be sitting on the outside of the table, and he
at once rose and as calmly advanced towards the German.

There was now a dead silence in the room, and all listened intently
to hear what the lad had to say to the duellist. Rupert spoke
first; and although he did not raise his voice in the slightest,
not a sound was lost from one end of the room to the other.

"Captain Muller," he said, "I hear that you have made a boast that
you will kill the first officer of my regiment whom you met. I am,
I think, the first, and you have now the opportunity of proving
whether you are a mere cutthroat, or a liar."

A perfect gasp of astonishment was heard in the room. Dillon leapt
to his feet, exclaiming, "No, Rupert, I will not allow it! I am
your senior officer."

And the gallant fellow would have pushed forward, had not Lord
Fairholm put his hand on his shoulder and forced him back, saying:

"Leave him alone; he knows what he is doing."

The German took a step back, with a hoarse exclamation of rage and
surprise at Rupert's address, and put his hand to his sword. Then,
making a great effort to master his fury, he said:

"You are safe in crowing loud, little cockerel; but Captain Muller
does not fight with boys."

A murmur of approval ran round the room; for the prospect of this
lad standing up to be killed by so noted a swordsman was painful
alike to the German and English officers present.

"The same spirit appears to animate you and your friend Sir Richard
Fulke," Rupert said quietly. "He did not care about fighting a boy,
and so employed a dozen of his soldiers to murder him."

"It is a lie!" the captain thundered, "Beware, young sir, how you
tempt me too far."

"You know it is not a lie," Rupert said calmly. "I know he told you
he was afraid to fight me, for that I was more than his match; and
it seems to me, sir, that this seeming pity for my youth is a mere
cover of the fact that you would rather choose as your victim
someone less skilled in fence than I happen to be. Are you a
coward, too, sir, as well as a ruffian?"

"Enough!" the German gasped.

"Swartzberg," he said, turning to his friend, "make the
arrangements; for I vow I will kill this insolent puppy in the
morning."

Lord Fairholm at once stepped forward to the Hessian captain.

"I shall have the honour to act as Mr. Holliday's second. Here is
my card. I shall be at home all the evening."

Rupert now resumed his seat, while Captain Muller and his friend
moved to the other end of the saloon. Here he was surrounded by a
number of German officers, who endeavoured to dissuade him from
fighting a duel in which the killing of his adversary would be
condemned by the whole army as child murder.

"Child or not," he said ferociously, "he dies tomorrow. You think
he was mad to insult me. It was conceit, not madness. His head is
turned; a fencing master once praised his skill at fence, and he
thinks himself a match for me--me! the best swordsman, though I say
it, in the German army. No, I would not have forced a quarrel on
him, for he is beneath my notice; but I am right glad that he has
taken up the glove I meant to throw down to his fellow. In killing
him I shall not only have punished the only person who has for many
years ventured to insult Otto Muller, but I shall have done a
service to a friend."

No sooner had Rupert regained his seat than Dillon exclaimed,
"Rupert, I shall never forgive myself. Others think you are mad,
but I know that you sacrifice yourself to save me.

"You did me an ill service, my lord," he said, turning to Lord
Fairholm, "by holding me back when I would have taken my proper
place. I shall never hold up my head again. But it will not be for
long, for when he has killed Rupert I will seek him wherever he may
go, and force him to kill me, too."

"My dear Dillon, I knew what I was doing," Lord Fairholm said. "It
was clear that either he or you had to meet this German cutthroat."

"But," Dillon asked, in astonishment, "why would you rather that
your friend Rupert should be killed than I?"

"You are not putting the case fairly," Lord Fairholm said. "Did it
stand so, I should certainly prefer that you should run this risk
than that Rupert should do so. But the case stands thus. In the
first place, it is really his quarrel; and in the second, while it
is certain that this German could kill you without fail, it is by
no means certain that he will kill Rupert."

Dillon's eyes opened with astonishment.

"Not kill him! Do you think that he will spare him after the way he
has been insulted before all of us?"

"No, there is little chance of that. It is his power, not his will,
that I doubt. I do not feel certain; far from it, I regard the
issue as doubtful; and yet I feel a strong confidence in the
result; for you must know, Master Dillon, that Rupert Holliday, boy
as he is, is probably the best swordsman in the British army."

"Rupert Holliday!" ejaculated Dillon, incredulously.

Lord Fairholm nodded.

"It is as I say, Dillon; and although they say this German is also
the best in his, his people are in no way famous that way. Had it
been with the best swordsman in the French army that Rupert had to
fight, my mind would be less at ease.

"But come now, we have finished our liquor and may as well be off.
We are the centre of all eyes here, and it is not pleasant to be a
general object of pity, even when that pity is ill bestowed.
Besides, I have promised to be at home to wait for Muller's second.

"I will come round to your quarters, Rupert, when I have arranged
time and place."

The calm and assured manner of Rupert's two friends did more to
convince Dillon that they were speaking in earnest, and that they
really had confidence in Rupert's skill, than any asseveration on
their part could have done, but he was still astounded at the news
that this boy friend of his, who had never even mentioned that he
could fence, could by any possibility be not only a first-rate
swordsman, but actually a fair match for this noted duellist.

Upon the way up to the barracks, Rupert persuaded his friend to say
nothing as to his skill, but it was found impossible to remain
silent, for when the officers heard of the approaching duel there
was a universal cry of indignation, and the colonel at once avowed
his intention of riding off to Lord Athlone to request him to put a
stop to a duel which could be nothing short of murder.

"The honour of the regiment shall not suffer," he said, sternly,
"for I myself will meet this German cutthroat."

Seeing that his colonel was resolute, Rupert made a sign to Dillon
that he might speak, and he accordingly related to his astonished
comrades the substance of what Lord Fairholm had told him. Rupert's
brother officers could not believe the news; but Rupert suggested
that the matter could be easily settled if some foils were brought,
adding that half-an-hour's fencing would be useful to him, and get
his hand into work again. The proposal was agreed to, and first one
and then another of those recognized as the best swordsmen of the
regiment, took their places against him, but without exerting
himself in the slightest, he proved himself so infinitely their
superior that their doubts speedily changed into admiration, and
the meeting of the morrow was soon regarded with a feeling of not
only hope, but confidence.

It was late before Lord Fairholm rode up to the cornet's.

"Did you think I was never coming?" he asked as he entered Rupert's
quarters. "The affair has created quite an excitement, and just as
I was starting, two hours back, a message came to me to go to
headquarters. I found his lordship in a great passion, and he rated
me soundly, I can tell you, for undertaking to be second in such a
disgracefully uneven contest as this. When he had had his say, of
course I explained matters, pointed out that this German bully was
a nuisance to the whole army, and that you being, as I myself could
vouch, a sort of phenomenon with the sword, had taken the matter up
to save your brother officer from being killed. I assured him that
I had the highest authority for your being one of the best
swordsmen in Europe, and that therefore I doubted not that you were
a match for this German. I also pointed out respectfully to him
that if he were to interfere to stop it, as he had intended, the
matter would be certain to lead to many more meetings between the
officers of the two nationalities. Upon this the general after some
talk decided to allow the matter to go on, but said that whichever
way it went he would write to the generals commanding all the
divisions of the allied army, and would publish a general order to
the effect that henceforth no duels shall be permitted except after
the dispute being referred to a court of honour of five senior
officers, by whom the necessity or otherwise of the duel shall be
determined; and that in the case of any duel fought without such
preliminary, both combatants shall be dismissed the service,
whether the wounds given be serious or not. I think the proposal is
an excellent one, and likely to do much good; for in a mixed army
like ours, causes for dispute and jealousy are sure to arise, and
without some stringent regulation we should be always fighting
among ourselves."

At an early hour on the following morning a stranger would have
supposed that some great military spectacle was about to take
place, so large was the number of officers riding from Liege and
the military stations around it towards the place fixed upon for
the duel. The event had created a very unusual amount of
excitement, because, in the first place, the attempt to murder
Rupert at the mill of Dettinheim had created much talk. The
intention of Captain Muller to force a quarrel on the officers of
the 5th had also been a matter of public comment, while the manner
in which the young cornet of that regiment had taken up the gage,
added to the extraordinary inequality between the combatants, gave
a special character to the duel.

It was eight in the morning when Rupert Holliday rode up to the
place fixed upon, a quiet valley some three miles from the town. On
the slopes of hills on either side were gathered some two or three
hundred officers, English, Dutch, and German, the bottom of the
valley, which was some forty yards across, being left clear. There
was, however, none of the life and animation which generally
characterize a military gathering. The British officers looked
sombre and stern at what they deemed nothing short of the
approaching murder of their gallant young countryman; and the
Germans were grave and downcast, for they felt ashamed of the
inequality of the contest. Among both parties there was earnest
though quiet talk of arresting the duel, but such a step would have
been absolutely unprecedented.

The arrival of the officers of the 5th, who rode up in a body a few
minutes before Rupert arrived with Lord Fairholm and his friend
Dillon, somewhat changed the aspect of affairs, for their cheerful
faces showed that from some cause, at which the rest were unable to
guess, they by no means regarded the death of their comrade as a
foregone event. As they alighted and gave their horses to the
orderlies who had followed them, their acquaintances gathered round
them full of expressions of indignation and regret at the
approaching duel.

"Is there any chance of this horrible business being stopped?" an
old colonel asked Colonel Forbes as he alighted. "There is a report
that the general has got wind of it, and will at the last moment
put an end to it by arresting both of them."

"No, I fancy that the matter will go on," Colonel Forbes said.

"But it is murder," Colonel Chambers said indignantly.

"Not so much murder as you think, Chambers, for I tell you this lad
is simply a marvel with his sword."

"Ah," the colonel said. "I had not heard that; but in no case could
a lad like this have a chance with this Muller, a man who has not
only the reputation of being the best swordsman in Germany, who now
has been in something like thirty duels, and has more than twenty
times killed his man."

"I know the ruffian's skill and address," Colonel Forbes said; "and
yet I tell you that I regard my young friend's chance as by no
means desperate."

Similar assurances had some effect in raising the spirits of the
English officers; still they refused to believe that a lad like a
recently joined cornet could have any real chance with the noted
duellist, and their hopes faded away altogether when Rupert rode
up. He was, of course, a stranger to most of those present, and his
smooth boyish face and slight figure struck them with pity and
dismay.

Rupert, however, although a little pale, seemed more cheerful than
anyone on the ground, and smiled and talked to Lord Fairholm and
Dillon as if awaiting the commencement of an ordinary military
parade.

"That is a gallant young fellow," was the universal exclamation of
most of those present, whatever their nationality. "He faces death
as calmly as if he were ignorant of his danger."

Five minutes later Captain Muller rode up, with his second; and the
preparations for the conflict at once began.

All except the combatants and their seconds retired to the slopes.
Lord Fairholm and Captain Swartzberg stood in the middle of the
bottom. Rupert stood back at a short distance, talking quietly with
Dillon and his colonel; while Captain Muller walked about near the
foot of the slope, loudly saluting those present with whom he was
acquainted.

There was but little loss of time in choosing the ground, for the
bottom of the valley was flat and smooth, and the sun was concealed
beneath a grey bank of clouds, which covered the greater part of
the sky, so that there was no advantage of light.

When all was arranged the length of the swords was measured. Both
had come provided with a pair of duelling rapiers, and as all four
weapons were of excellent temper and of exactly even length, no
difficulty was met with here. Then a deep hush fell upon the
gathering as the seconds returned to their principals.

It had been arranged by the seconds that they should not fight in
uniform, as the heavy boots impeded their action. Both were
accordingly attired in evening dress. Rupert wore dark puce satin
breeches, white stockings, and very light buckled shoes. His
opponent was in bright orange-coloured breeches, with stockings to
match. Coats and waistcoats were soon removed, and the shirt
sleeves rolled up above the elbow.

As they took stand face to face, something like a groan went
through the spectators. Rupert stood about five feet nine, slight,
active, with smooth face, and head covered with short curls. The
German stood six feet high, with massive shoulders, and arms
covered with muscle. His huge moustache was twisted upwards towards
his ears; his hair was cropped short, and stood erect all over his
head. It was only among a few of the shrewder onlookers that the
full value of the tough, whipcordy look of Rupert's frame, and the
extreme activity promised by his easy pose, were appreciated. The
general opinion went back to the former verdict, that the disparity
was so great that, even putting aside the German's well-known
skill, the duel was little short of murder.

Just before they stood on guard, Captain Muller said, in a loud
voice, "Now, sir, if you have any prayer to say, say it; for I warn
you, I will kill you like a dog."

A cry of "Shame!" arose from the entire body of spectators; when it
abated Rupert said, quietly but clearly, "My prayers are said,
Captain Muller. If yours are not, say them now, for assuredly I
will kill you--not as a dog, for a dog is a true and faithful
animal, but as I would kill a tiger, or any other beast whose
existence was a scourge to mankind."

A cheer of approbation arose from the circle; and with a groan of
rage Captain Muller took his stand. Rupert faced him in an instant,
and their swords crossed. For a short time the play was exceedingly
cautious on both sides, each trying to find out his opponent's
strength. Hitherto the German had thought but little of what Fulke
had told him that he had heard, of Rupert's skill; but the calm and
confident manner of the young Englishman now impressed him with the
idea that he really, boy as he was, must be something out of the
common way. The thought in no way abated his own assurance, it
merely taught him that it would be wiser to play cautiously at
first, instead of, as he had intended, making a fierce and rapid
attack at once, and finishing the struggle almost as soon as it
began.

The lightning speed with which his first thrusts were parried and
returned soon showed him the wisdom of the course he had adopted;
and the expression of arrogant disdain with which he had commenced
the fight speedily changed to one of care and determination. This
insolent boy was to be killed, but the operation must not be
carelessly carried out.

For a time he attempted by skillful play to get through Rupert's
guard, but the lad's sword always met him; and its point flashed so
quickly and vengefully forward, that several times it was only by
quick backward springs that he escaped from it.

The intense, but silent excitement among the spectators increased
with every thrust and parry; and every nerve seemed to tingle in
unison with the sharp clink of the swords. The German now
endeavoured to take advantage of his superior height, length of
arm, and strength, to force down Rupert's guard; but the latter
slipped away from him, bounding as lightly as a cat out of range,
and returning with such rapid and elastic springs, that the German
was in turn obliged to use his utmost activity to get back out of
reach.

So far several slight scratches had been given on both sides, but
nothing in any way to affect the combatants. As the struggle
continued, gaining every moment in earnestness and effort, a look
of anxiety gradually stole over the German's face, and the
perspiration stood thick on his forehead. He knew now that he had
met his match; and an internal feeling told him that although he
had exerted himself to the utmost, his opponent had not yet put out
his full strength and skill.

Rupert's face was unchanged since the swords had crossed. His mouth
was set, but in a half smile; his eye was bright; and his demeanour
rather that of a lad fencing with buttoned foils than that of one
contending for his life against a formidable foe.

Now thoroughly aware of his opponent's strength and tactics, Rupert
began to press the attack, and foot by foot drove his opponent back
to the spot at which the combat had commenced. Then, after a fierce
rally, he gave an opening; the German lunged, Rupert threw back his
body with the rapidity of lightning, lunging also as he did so. His
opponent's sword grazed his cheek as it passed, while his own ran
through the German's body until the hilt struck it. Muller fell
without a word, an inert mass; and the surgeon running up,
pronounced that life was already extinct.

The crowd of spectators now flocked down, the English with
difficulty repressing their exclamations of delight, and
congratulated Rupert on the result, which to them appeared almost
miraculous; while the senior German officer present came up to him,
and said:

"Although Captain Muller was a countryman of mine, sir, I rejoice
in the unexpected result of this duel. It has rid our army of a man
who was a scourge to it."

Plasters and bandages were now applied to Rupert's wounds; and in a
few minutes the whole party had left the valley, one German orderly
alone remaining to watch the body of the dead duellist until a
party could be sent out to convey it to the town for burial.



Chapter 10: The Battle Of The Dykes.

For some time after his duel with Captain Muller, it is probable
that the little cornet was, after Marlborough himself, the most
popular man in the British army in Flanders. He, however, bore his
honours quietly, shrinking from notice, and seldom going down into
the town. Any mention of the duel was painful to him; for although
he considered that he was perfectly justified in taking up the
quarrel forced upon his regiment, yet he sincerely regretted that
he should have been obliged to kill a man, however dangerous and
obnoxio

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