"Oh! I saw that at once. I congratulate you. And when is the wedding-day?"
Alas, how could she know? Under this abominable Government, marriage in the church had been abolished, and were they even to satisfy themselves with a civil contract the mayor would demand their birth certificates. These were no longer in her possession, even had she wished to produce them. And where were they?
"I have them," replied Vaughan.
She looked at him in astonishment.
He then explained to her how he had found them among a bundle of papers which her husband had been sorting, in order to burn the most compromising, when death overtook him. He—Vaughan, the confidant of his last moments—had completed this task. Among the letters, acts, and accounts, relating chiefly to politics and the different movements of the Chouans and the emigrants, he had found several family documents, some insignificant, others of more importance. These he had laid aside for Clarisse's perusal.
"I will now make a confession," he continued, "which must be made sooner or later."
He stopped embarrassed, and then, as if suddenly resolved, added—
"The work of classification has put me in possession of a family secret. Among the papers which I have to return to you are the birth and baptismal certificates of Olivier."
Clarisse looked at him anxiously. He continued after a pause—
"In glancing over these I perceived that both were dated 1775, that is, two years before your marriage."