“What is it, Monsieur?” I asked.
“It is concerning Mlle. Ribaut. I have reason to believe that you love her. Is it not so, Monsieur?”
“That is so, M. le Comte,” I replied, and my hands were trembling.
“I am glad to hear it,” he said, and fell into a reverie, smiling to himself. It was not until we stopped before the church that he spoke again.
“Here we are,” he cried, “and with still ten minutes to spare. Come with me,” and we left the carriage and entered the church. An old man met us at the door and cast an astonished glance at me.
“Are you the sacristan?” asked d’Argenson.
“Yes, Monsieur,” answered the fellow.
“There is to be a wedding here at nine o’clock, is there not?”
“I do not know, Monsieur. There has already been one wedding here at eight o’clock.”
My heart fell within me. Could it be that the hour had been changed?