"Oh, sir," he cried, flinging himself at the Prince's feet, "let me go with you wherever the King of France may see fit to send you. Give me but leave to see her I love, to tell her that once more I have returned to her, and then let me follow you, as is my duty and desire, wherever you go!" It was not only Charles Edward who was affected by this manly speech; even De Biron, who understood English well, and De Vaudreville, who did not, but evidently guessed accurately what he had said, were touched by it. "No, Elphinston, no," the Prince replied. "As I said but now, the day is past for services to be rendered to me or my cause. That cause is lost; this is the last blow. When France joins hands with England, how can a Stuart hope? Farewell, Captain Elphinston; she whom you love--I know all!--will recover yet, ill as she is, I hope. I pray to God that He may bless you both. Farewell! we shall never meet again--never again! Yet, remember, I beseech you, when you hear my name mentioned, that we fought side by side once--that we were comrades--and--and--so, try to think well of me." They bore him away after this, scarce giving Bertie time to kiss his hand, and from that night they never did meet again. To the Prince there were still to be forty years of life accorded; what that life became, with every hope shattered and every desire unaccomplished, the world well knows. Between them the grenadiers and De Vaudreville carried him to the hired coach--for owing to his silken fetters he was unable to walk--and put him into it at the spot where it waited, behind the kitchens. And Bertie, following like a faithful dog who perceives its master departing, thus saw the last of him and received his last look. De Vaudreville, he observed, sat by him; two captains of the musketeers entered the coach and sat opposite to him; two other officers rode on each side of the vehicle, with a hand upon the door; six grenadiers with fixed bayonets mounted behind like footmen, and the rest of the soldiers accompanied them on foot.[Note E] Thus the last but one of the Stuarts left Paris; thus the last hospitality and favour of France were withdrawn from the representative of the unhappy family whose cause France had so long espoused. "And now," said Bertie to himself, as with a final courteous bow the Duc de Biron entered his own gorgeous carriage and departed to give an account of the proceedings to Louis--"and now for her whom I have pined for so long! God grant that the report of her ill-health may be exaggerated! If I lose her, I have nothing more to live for!" CHAPTER XXXII. "LOVE STRONG AS DEATH!"