ould spring up to save her from him. This, then, is
the reason why I think that you should be married."

"I am all amazement," cried Claude, "I am bewildered. Married! Such a
thing would be my highest wish. But I don't understand all this. How
is it possible to think of marriage at such a time as this?"

"Well, I will now explain that," said the priest. "The late
commandant is a friend of mine. We were acquainted with each other
years ago in France. As soon as Cazeneau made his appearance here,
and you were arrested, I went to him and told him the whole story of
your parents, as I have just now told you. He had heard something
about their sad fate in former years, and his sympathies were all
enlisted. Besides, he looks upon Cazeneau as a doomed man, the
creature of the late regime, the fallen government. He expects that
Cazeneau will be speedily recalled, disgraced, and punished. He also
expects that the honors of the Count de Montresor will be restored to
you. He is sufficient of an aristocrat to prefer an old and honorable
name, like Montresor, to that of a low and unprincipled adventurer,
like Cazeneau, and does not wish to see the Countess Laborde fall a
victim to the machinations of a worn-out scoundrel. And so the
ex-commandant will do all that he can. Were it not for him, I do not
think I could succeed in freeing both of you, though I still might
contrive to free you alone."

"O, my dear Pere Michel! What can I say? I am dumb!"

"Say nothing. I must go now."

"When will you come?"

"At midnight. There will be a change of guards then. The new sentry
will be favorable; he will run away with us, so as to save himself
from punishment."

"And when shall we be married?"

"To-night. You will go from here to the commandant's residence, and
then out. But we must haste, for by daybreak Cazeneau will discover
all--perhaps before. We can be sure, however, of three hours. I hope
it will be light. Well, we must trust to Providence. And now, my son,
farewell till midnight."

CHAPTER XXII.

ESCAPE.

Claude remained alone once more, with his brain in a whirl from the
tumult of thought which had arisen. This interview with the priest
had been the most eventful hour of his life. He had learned the
secret of his parentage, the wrongs and sufferings of his father and
mother, the villany of Cazeneau, the true reason for the bitter
enmity which in him had triumphed over gratitude, and made him seek
so pertinacio