As to Hugh, he had been fitted out in bourgeois clothes since he came, and had said no word as to uniform.
In another fortnight Rupert was thoroughly restored to health. His wound had healed, his bones had perfectly set, and he was as fit for work as ever. Even his host could not but allow that there was no cause for his further detention. During this time Rupert had talked much with the Burgomaster, who spoke French fluently, and had told him frequently and earnestly of the grievous harm that was done to the prospects of the war by the mischievous interference with the general's plans by the Dutch deputies, who, knowing nothing whatever of war, yet took upon themselves continually to thwart the plans of the greatest general of the age. Van Duyk listened with great attention, and promised that when he went shortly to Haarlem he would use all his influence to abbreviate the powers which the deputies so unwisely used.
Two or three days before the date fixed for Rupert's departure, he was walking in the town with Mynheer Von Duyk and his daughter, when he observed a person gazing intently at him from the entrance to a small bylane. He started, and exclaimed:
"There is that rascal, Sir Richard Fulke!"
"Where?" exclaimed both his companions.
"He has gone now," Rupert said. "But he stood there in shadow, at the entrance to that lane."
So saying, he hurried forward, but no sign of his enemy was visible.
"Are you sure it was he?" Mynheer Von Duyk asked. "What can he be doing in Holland?"
Rupert then in a few words recounted their meeting in Liege, the subsequent attempt to murder him at the mill, and the disappearance of Sir Richard Fulke, and his exchange into some other regiment.
Von Duyk was much disturbed.