“You arrested her?”
“Yes.”
“In our uniform?”
“It was the only way. I loved her.”
“You still love her?”
“To distraction.”
“Humph! We shall see. Orderly, send a priest to me, and tell him to come prepared to perform a marriage ceremony.”
Tacon was sphinx-like, and busied himself with his papers. The count was puzzled, yet smiling, and disposed to be incredulous. The girl and her lover wore looks of doubt and fear. The priest arrived.
“Father,” said Tacon, “you will make the Count Almonte and Miralda Estalez man and wife.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed the count.