Gassion was furiously jealous. During the whole course of the siege, he had refused to lend any aid whatever, and when the town was taken in spite of him, his jealousy led him to play the Prince a very treacherous trick. He invited him one morning to "take the air," and Rupert, for the third time, agreed to accompany him. They went out attended by a guard of eighty horse; but a peasant warned the Spaniards of their whereabouts, and an ambush was laid to intercept their return. As they came back, Rupert noticed a dog sitting with its back towards him, and staring into the wood. The circumstance roused his suspicions; he took off his cloak, threw it to his page, and pressing after Gassion who was some yards ahead, cried: "Have a care, sir! There is a party in that wood!" As he spoke the hidden enemy fired a smart volley. Setting spurs to their horses, the French party broke through it, losing only Rupert's page, who was taken, but courteously released next day. No sooner were they through the fire than Gassion faced about, saying: "Il faut rompre le col a ces coquins-la.--Pied a terre!" He took his foot from his stirrup; and Rupert, naturally understanding that they were to attack the ambush, dismounted. A few officers followed his example, and thereupon Gassion marched off with their horses, leaving them to face the difficulty as best {218} they could. A sharp skirmish followed, in which Rupert received a shot in the head, but he contrived to retreat after Gassion, who was calmly waiting at some distance. The French General then expressed polite regret for the accident: "Monsieur," he said, "je suis bien fache que vous etes blesse!" To which Rupert replied, with crushing brevity: "Et moi aussi!"[8] This little skirmish ended an uneventful campaign, and Rupert returned to St. Germains, "where he passed his next winter with as much satisfaction as the tenderness he felt for his royal uncle's affairs would permit."[9] King Charles was then a prisoner at Hampton Court, whence he wrote a very affectionate letter to his nephew, sympathising with him for his recent wound, and assuring him that, "next my children, I say _next_, I shall have most care of you, and shall take the first opportunity either to employ you, or to have your company."[10]