Marie's head turned round and round with her, but she was not of the
fainting order. She took three steps backwards and leant against the
wall of the cave. She also was trying to think how she might best
fight her battle. Was there no chance for her? Could no eloquence,
no love prevail? On her own beauty she counted but little; but might
not prayers do something, and a reference to those old vows which had
been so frequent, so eager, so solemnly pledged between them?

"Never get ourselves married!" she said, repeating his words.
"Never, Adolphe? Can we never be married?"

"Upon my word, my dear girl, I fear not. You see my mother is so
dead against it."

"But we could wait; could we not?"

"Ah, but that's just it, Marie. We cannot wait. We must decide
now,--to-day. You see I can do nothing without money from her--and
as for you, you see she won't even let you stay in the house unless
you marry old Campan at once. He's a very good sort of fellow
though, old as he is. And if you do marry him, why you see you'll
stay here, and have it all your own way in everything. As for me, I
shall come and see you all from time to time, and shall be able to
push my way as I ought to do."

"Then, Adolphe, you wish me to marry the capitaine?"

"Upon my honour I think it is the best thing you can do; I do
indeed."