He has not
been deceived by your explanation. Self-interest alone has kept his
mouth closed. He has seen your money, and so long as you spend it at his
house he will hold his tongue; but if he discovers that you are going
away, he will probably betray you."
"Ah! sir, but how is it possible for us to leave this place?"
"In two days the young lady will be on her feet again," interrupted the
physician. "And take my advice. At the next village, stop and give your
name to Mademoiselle Lacheneur."
"Ah! sir," Maurice exclaimed; "have you considered the advice you offer
me? How can I, a proscribed man--a man condemned to death perhaps--how
can I obtain the necessary papers?"
The physician shook his head.
"Excuse me, you are no longer in France, Monsieur d'Escorval, you are in
Piedmont."
"Another difficulty!"
"No, because in this country, people marry, or at least they can marry,
without all the formalities that cause you so much anxiety."
"Is it possible?" Maurice exclaimed.
"Yes, if you can find a priest who will consent to your union, inscribe
your name upon his parish register and give you a certificate, you will
be so indissolubly united, Mademoiselle Lacheneur and you, that the
court of Rome would never grant you a divorce.
Pages:
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519