en the order reaches me, my
Helene will be already married. The Emperor can say nothing. His
General must seek a wife elsewhere. Now, Monsieur le Cure, are you
satisfied? The children are waiting."

"No, monsieur, no, I am not satisfied. I think there is more risk than
you tell me, but I do not mind that. I will not, I cannot, marry young
Ange to your daughter without his father's knowledge. Your cousin--God
bless him!--is not a religious man, but I owe him a debt I can never
repay."

Count Herve laughed angrily. "You know very well," he said, "that if
Urbain is displeased at this marriage, it will be for our sake, not his
own. How could he hope for such a match for Angelot?"

"His love for you is wonderful, Monsieur le Comte. But I am not talking
of his likings or dislikings. I say that I will not marry these young
people without his consent."

"And I say you will. Understand, I mean it. Listen; my cousin Joseph was
sending Ange to England to-night with some of his friends out of the way
of the police. I will dress Helene up as a boy, and send her with him,
trusting to a marriage when they land. I will do anything to get her off
my hands to-night, and Angelot will not fail me. The responsibility is
yours, Monsieur le Cure."

The old man wrung his hands. "Monsieur le Comte, you are mad!" he said.

But these threats were effectual, as no fear of personal suffering
would have been, and the Cure, though solemnly protesting, submitted.

The delay he caused was not yet over, however. No angry frowns and
impatient words would induce him to begin the service before the two
young people had separately made their confession to him. Luckily, both
were ready to do this, and neither was very long; when at last the Cure,
properly vested, began with solemn deliberation the words of the
service, his eyes were full of tears, not altogether unhappy.

"Two white souls, madame," he told Anne afterwards. "Your son and your
daughter--you may love them freely, and trust their love for you and for
each other. Never did I join the hands of two such innocent children as
our dear Ange and his Helene."

He had, in fact, just joined their hands for the first time, when he
looked round anxiously at Monsieur de Sainfoy and murmured, "There is no
one you can trust, monsieur--no other possible witness?"

"None," the Comte answered shortly; and even as he spoke they all heard
a sharp knocking in the corridor, and the opening and shutting of