man. He realized that, since
he could not defeat us, he must dishonor us. He has organized false
companies of Jehu, which he has set loose in Maine and Anjou, who don't
stop at the government money, but pillage and rob travellers, and invade
the chateaux and farms by night, and roast the feet of the owners to
make them tell where their treasure is hidden. Well, these men, these
bandits, these _roasters_, have taken our name, and claim to be fighting
for the same principles, so that M. Fouche and his police declare that
we are not only beyond the pale of the law, but beyond that of honor."

"Oh!"

"That is what I wished to tell you before I ask you to fly with me, my
Amelie. In the eyes of France, in the eyes of foreigners, even in the
eyes of the prince we have served, and for whom we have risked the
scaffold, we shall be hereafter, and probably are now, dishonored men
worthy of the scaffold."

"Yes; but to me you are my Charles, the man of devoted convictions, the
firm royalist, continuing to struggle for a cause when other men have
abandoned it. To me you are the loyal Baron de Sainte-Hermine, or, if
you like it better, you are to me the noble, courageous, invincible
Morgan."

"Ah! that is what I longed to hear, my darling. If you feel thus, you
will not hesitate, in spite of the cloud of infamy that hangs over our
honor, you will not hesitate--I will not say to give yourself to me, for
that you have already done--but to become my wife."

"Hesitate! No, not for an instant, not for a second! To do it is the joy
of my soul, the happiness of my life! Your wife? I am your wife in the
sight of God, and God will have granted my every prayer on the day that
he enables me to be your wife before men."

Morgan fell on his knees.

"Then," he said, "here at your feet, with clasped hands and my whole
heart supplicating, I say to you, Amelie, will you fly with me? Will you
leave France with me? Will you be my wife in other lands?"

Amelie sprang erect and clasped her head in her hands, as though her
brain were bursting with the force of the blood that rushed to it.
Morgan caught both her hands and looked at her anxiously.

"Do you hesitate?" he asked in a broken, trembling voice.

"No, not an instant!" she cried resolutely. "I am yours in the past, in
the present, in the future, here, everywhere. Only the thought convulses
me. It is so unexpected."

"Reflect well, Amelie. What I ask of you is to abandon country and
f