Hilton and Ida, who even then were listening to the first words of the
brief service which begins, "I charge you both if you do know any just
cause or impediment--" and so on.

They did not turn to see what it was, for just at that moment they
themselves were the very centre of the universe. Ida being deaf and dumb,
it was necessary to interpret to her the words of the service by signs,
as the missionary read it, and this was done by Pierre himself, the
half-breed Catholic, the man who had brought Hilton and Ida together, for
he and Ida had been old friends. After Father Corraine had taught her the
language of signs, Pierre had learned them from her, until at last his
gestures had become as vital as her own. The delicate precision of his
every movement, the suggestiveness of look and motion, were suited to a
language which was nearer to the instincts of his own nature than word of
mouth. All men did not trust Pierre, but all women did; with those he had
a touch of Machiavelli, with these he had no sign of Mephistopheles, and
few were the occasions in his life when he showed outward tenderness to
either: which was equally effective. He had learnt, or knew by instinct,
that exclusiveness as to men and indifference as to women are the
greatest influences on both. As he stood there, slowly interpreting to
Ida, by graceful allusive signs, the words of the service, one could not
think that behind his impassive face there was any feeling for the man or
for the woman. He had that disdainful smile which men acquire who are all
their lives aloof from the hopes of the hearthstone and acknowledge no
laws but their own.

More than once the eyes of the girl filled with tears, as the pregnancy
of some phrase in the service came home to her. Her face responded to
Pierre's gestures, as do one's nerves to the delights of good music, and
there was something so unique, so impressive in the ceremony, that the