Elizabeth, thus left alone in her poverty, seems to have turned to Rupert with more affection than she had ever before shown him. She wrote him long letters, full of Hague gossip, of complaints of the Elector, and professions of affection for himself. "I love you ever, my dear Rupert," or, "I pray God bless you, whatever you resolve to do."[7] { 286} Occasionally she relapsed into her old jesting manner. Thus, she told him of a present of oranges forwarded to him from Spain: "My Lord Fraser sent you a letter from Portugal from Robert Cortez. He sends you two cases of Portugal oranges, two for the King, and two for me.... I believe my Lord Craven will tell you how much ado he has had to save your part from me. I made him believe I would take your cases for my niece and the Prince of Orange. I did it to vex him."[8] She was still of her "humour to be merry," though she had more cause than ever for sadness.
Philip had fallen in 1650 at the siege of Rhetel, fighting for France against Spain, but no allusion to his death from the hand of his mother or brothers has been preserved. Edward, who lived nominally in France, but was generally to be found at the Hague and at Heidelberg, was on friendly terms with Rupert, though he could not be to him as Maurice had been. From time to time disquieting rumours of Maurice's reappearance were afloat, and in 1654 the story was very circumstantial. "Here is news of Prince Maurice, who was believed to be drowned and perished, that he is a slave in Africa. For, being constrained at that time that he parted from Prince Rupert to run as far as Hispaniola in the West Indies, he was coming back thence in a barque laden with a great quantity of silver, and was taken by a pirate of Algiers. The Queen, his mother, hath spoken to the Ambassador of France, to the end that he may write on his behalf, to the Great Turk."[9] Rupert, personally, was convinced that his brother had perished in the hurricane, but he would lose no chance of recovering him, however slight, and he urged the Elector to investigate the matter with all speed. "Concerning my brother Maurice," wrote Charles Louis to his mother, "my brother Rupert, who is now here, thinks the way by the { 287} Emperor's agent at Constantinople too far about for his liberty, if the news be true, and that from Marseilles we may best know the certainty, as also the way of his releasement."[10] But the news was not true, and Rupert's inquiries left him more hopeless than ever.