"Talk French, please, Rupert. Margot will understand then; and she is so brave and good, and shares my danger, so she ought to be as one of us."
Adele's spirits rose as they got farther from Versailles, and they talked and laughed cheerfully, but in low tones.
Three miles from Versailles, as they rode past a crossroad, two mounted men dashed out suddenly.
"Stand, in the king's name! Who are you?"
"We are travellers," Rupert said, quietly, "and go where we will. Who are you?"
"We are guards of the court, and we must know who you are before we suffer you to pass. None ride at night near Versailles but with a pass."
"I am an exception then," Rupert said, "and I advise you not to interfere with us;" and he urged his horse a few feet in advance of his companions.
One of the horsemen seized his bridle, while another drew a pistol.
Rupert's sword leaped from its scabbard and cut down the man who held the rein. The other fired, but Rupert threw himself forward on the horse's neck and the bullet whizzed over his head. He rode at the garde, and with a heavy blow with the pommel of the sword struck him senseless from his horse.
"Now," he said to Adele, "we can ride on again. You are not frightened, I hope?"