Then I stooped and whispered softly in her ear. She gave a little
cry, and drew back from me; yet instantly her hand came out and
caught my arm.

"Robert, Robert! I can not, I dare not!" she cried softly. "No,
no, it may not be," she added in a whisper of fear.

I went to the alcove, drew back the curtain, and asked Mr.
Wainfleet to step forth.

"Sir," said I, picking up my Prayer Book and putting it in his
hands, "I beg you to marry this lady and myself."

He paused, dazed. "Marry you--here--now?" he asked shakingly.

"Before ten minutes go round, this lady must be my wife," said I.

"Mademoiselle Duvarney, you--" he began.

"Be pleased, dear sir, to open the book at 'Wilt thou have,'" said
I. "The lady is a Catholic; she has not the consent of her people;
but when she is my wife, made so by you, whose consent need we ask?
Can you not tie us fast enough, a man and woman of sense sufficient,
but you must pause here? Is the knot you tie safe against picking
and stealing?"

I had touched his vanity and his ecclesiasticism. "Married by me,"
he replied, "once chaplain to the Bishop of London, you have a
knot that no sword can cut. I am in full orders. My parish is in