left
Ramsgate, to allow of Nugent's marrying her, under his brother's name?

As the train rolled out of the station, I, the enemy of priests, began to
make myself agreeable to _this_ priest. He was young and shy--but I
conquered him. Just as the other travelers were beginning (with the
exception of Oscar) to compose themselves to sleep, I put my case to the
clergyman. "A and B, sir, lady and gentleman, both of age, leave one
place in England, and go to live in another place, on the fifth of this
month--how soon, if you please, can they be lawfully married after that?"

"I presume you mean in church?" said the young clergyman.

"In church, of course." (To that extent I believed I might answer for
Lucilla, without any fear of making a mistake.)

"They may be married by License," said the clergyman--"provided one of
them continues to reside in that other place to which they traveled on
the fifth--on the twenty-first, or (possibly) even the twentieth of this
month."

"Not before?"

"Certainly not before."

It was then the night of the seventeenth. I gave my companion's hand a
little squeeze in the dark. Here was a glimpse of encouragement to cheer
us on the journey. Before the marriage could take place, we should be in
England. "We have time before us," I whispered to Oscar. "We will save
Lucilla yet."

"Shall we find Lucilla?" was all he whispered back.

I had forgotten that serious difficulty. No answer to Oscar's question
could possibly present itself until we reached the rectory. Between this
and then, there was nothing for it but to keep patience and to keep hope.

I refrain from encumbering this part of my narrative with any detailed
account of the little accidents, lucky and unlucky, which alternately
hastened or retarded our journey home. Let me only say that, before
midnight on the eighteenth, Oscar and I drove up to the rectory gate.

Mr. Finch himself came out to receive us, with a lamp in his hand. He
lifted his eyes (and his lamp) devotionally to the sky when he saw Oscar.
The two first words he said, were:--

"Inscrutable Providence!"

"Have you found Lucilla?" I asked.

Mr. Finch--with his whole attention fixed on Oscar--wrung my hand
mechanically, and said I was a "good creature;" much as he might have
patted, and spoken to, Oscar's companion, if the companion had been a
dog. I almost wished myself that animal for the moment--I should have had
the privilege of biting Mr. Finch. Oscar impati