In spite of this sarcastic query, the wily old man pretended to
believe in this excuse; but he suspected some treachery and he
resolved to watch his treasure more carefully than before.

The benediction was given. Without waiting for the end of the "Soecula
soeculorum," the crowd rushed like a torrent to the doors of the
church. Following his usual custom, the old seigneur waited till the
general hurry was over; after which he left his chapel, placing the
duenna and the youngest page, carrying a lantern, before him; then he
gave his arm to his wife and told the other page to follow them.

As he made his way to the lateral door which opened on the west side
of the cloister, through which it was his custom to pass, a stream of
persons detached itself from the flood which obstructed the great
portals, and poured through the side aisle around the old lord and his
party. The mass was too compact to allow him to retrace his steps, and
he and his wife were therefore pushed onward to the door by the
pressure of the multitude behind them. The husband tried to pass out
first, dragging the lady by the arm, but at that instant he was pulled
vigorously into the street, and his wife was torn from him by a
stranger. The terrible hunchback saw at once that he had fallen into a
trap that was cleverly prepared. Repenting himself for having slept,
he collected his whole strength, seized his wife once more by the
sleeve of her gown, and strove with his other hand to cling to the
gate of the church; but the ardor of love carried the day against
jealous fury. The young man took his mistress round the waist, and
carried her off so rapidly, with the strength of despair, that the
brocaded stuff of silk and gold tore noisily apart, and the sleeve
alone remained in the hand of the old man. A roar like that of a lion
rose louder than the shouts of the multitude, and a terrible voice