Several days had passed, and at last it was confidently believed that the missing lady was the daughter of Baron Pointdexter, a magnate of Languedoc, who had but recently come up to court, on an intimation from the king that it was a long time since he had been seen there, and that His Majesty hoped that he would be accompanied by his daughter, of whose beauty reports had reached him.  It was certain that neither she nor her father had attended any of the receptions or fetes at Versailles, since the rumour first spread, although the baron had had a private interview with the king a few hours afterwards, and had left his chamber with a frowning brow, that showed that the interview had not been a pleasant one.  He had not again appeared at court, whether in consequence of the royal command, or not, no one knew.

The baron was one of the richest proprietors in the south of France.  He was a specimen of the best type of the French nobles, preferring to spend his time among his own wide estates to coming up to the capital, where his visits had at all times been rare.

During the daytime, Desmond went out but little.  When the hours of drill and exercise were over, he spent some time in visiting the quarters of the men of his company, making their personal acquaintance, and chatting freely with them.  They were glad to hear from him about their native country; and, as some of them came from his own neighbourhood, they took a lively interest in the news—­the first that had reached them for years—­of families with whom they were acquainted.  He spent two or three hours in the afternoons in the salle d’armes of the regiment, or at the schools of one or other of the maitres d’armes most in vogue, and then paid visits, with one or other of the officers of the regiment, to great houses of which they had the entree.

Of an evening he went out, accompanied by Mike Callaghan, and wandered about the less fashionable part of the town, which pleased him better than the more crowded and busy quarters.

One evening, he had gone farther than usual, had passed through the gates, and had followed the road by the banks of the river.  As an officer in uniform, he was able to re-enter the town after the gates were closed, the rules being by no means strict, as, during the reign of Louis the 14th, France, though engaged in frequent wars abroad, was free from domestic troubles.

Presently, he passed a lonely house of some size, standing back from the road and surrounded by a high wall.  As he did so, he heard a scream in a female voice, followed by angry exclamations from two male voices, while loudly rose a woman’s cries for help.

“There is bad work of some sort going on in there,” he said to Mike.  “We had better see what it is all about.  Do you go round the wall by the right, and I will go round by the left, and see if there is any way by which we can climb over.”

They met at the back of the house.  The wall was unbroken, save by the gates in front.