Before beginning
the ceremony the priest asked, in the dead silence, the names of the
bride.
"Marie-Nathalie, daughter of Mademoiselle Blanche de Casteran, abbess,
deceased, of Notre-Dame de Seez, and Victor-Amedee, Duc de Verneuil."
"Where born?"
"At La Chasterie, near Alencon."
"I never supposed," said the baron in a low voice to the count, "that
Montauran would have the folly to marry her. The natural daughter of a
duke!--horrid!"
"If it were of the king, well and good," replied the Comte de Bauvan,
smiling. "However, it is not for me to blame him; I like Charette's
mistress full as well; and I shall transfer the war to her--though
she's not one to bill and coo."
The names of the marquis had been filled in previously, and the two
lovers now signed the document with their witnesses. The ceremony then
began. At that instant Marie, and she alone, heard the sound of
muskets and the heavy tread of soldiers,--no doubt relieving the guard
in the church which she had herself demanded. She trembled violently
and raised her eyes to the cross on the altar.
"A saint at last," said Francine, in a low voice.
"Give me such saints, and I'll be devilishly devout," added the count,
in a whisper.
When the priest made the customary inquiry of Mademoiselle de
Verneuil, she answered by a "yes" uttered with a deep sigh.
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