ce he had lost all hope of winning Dolores, the thought of
wedding another was no longer revolting to him.

"I am ready to obey you, father," he replied, "but will you allow me to
remind you that Mademoiselle de Mirandol is rich and that I have
nothing."

The Marquis checked him and, calling Antoinette, said in a voice that
was becoming weaker and weaker:

"Antoinette, Philip is poor; his position is gone; the favor of the king
will avail him nothing in the future, and the power has passed into the
hands of our enemies; nevertheless, will you consent to marry him?"

"If he desires it," exclaimed Mademoiselle de Mirandol, "and never was I
so grateful for my wealth!"

Philip pressed the hand of the noble girl, and the face of the Marquis
was transfigured with joy in spite of his agony. Then M. de Chamondrin
resumed:

"You must leave the country, my children, and marry as soon as
circumstances will permit. You must stay in foreign lands until France
recovers her reason. Promise to obey me."

They promised in voices choked with sobs.

"Abbe," continued the Marquis, "bless these children!"

Without exchanging another word, Philip and Antoinette, in obedience to
the wishes of the dying man, knelt before the priest. The latter,
employing the solemn formula which makes bride and bridegroom
indissolubly one, asked Mademoiselle de Mirandol if she would accept
Philip as her husband, and Philip if he would take Antoinette for his
wife, and when they had answered in the affirmative, he added:

"I cannot here, and under such circumstances, unite you by the bonds of
marriage; but until the vows you have just exchanged can be consecrated
by the church, I, as the witness of this covenant, shall pray God to
bless you."

"I am satisfied," said the Marquis, faintly. "Father, grant me
absolution."

Antoinette and Philip remained upon their knees. A quarter of an hour
later the Marquis expired. Just as he breathed his last, the same man
who discovered the firing of the chateau, and who had again returned to
the park to watch the movements of the enemy, burst into the room.

"They are searching the park! They are coming this way!" he cried,
breathlessly.

The cure, who had been engaged in prayer, rose.

"Fly!" he exclaimed.

"My place is here!" replied Philip.

Antoinette gave him a look of approval.

"In the name of the Father, who has commanded you to love, I order you
to fly!"

And, as he spoke, the priest pointed