Ernestine took the pen from the notary's hand, with a poignant anxiety, which, for divers reasons, was shared by all the other actors in the scene except Olivier and Commander Bernard, and affixed the name of Ernestine Vert-Puis de Beaumesnil to the document. Then, with a trembling hand, she offered the pen to Olivier. With a look of inexpressible happiness, the young man stooped to append his signature to the contract; but he had scarcely written the name of Olivier, when the pen dropped from his fingers, and he remained for a moment leaning over the table, silent and motionless, believing himself, in fact, the victim of an optical delusion, as he saw, above the name he had just begun to write, the signature of Ernestine Vert-Puis de Beaumesnil.
Those around him understood the cause of this astonishment so well, and were so fully prepared for it, that they all maintained a profound silence—all save the commander, who gazed at his nephew for a moment with great surprise, and then exclaimed, excitedly:
"What the devil is the matter with you, my boy? Have you forgotten how to write your name?"
But suddenly the strange silence of the other spectators seemed to strike him, and he turned inquiringly to them; but upon every face, and particularly upon the faces of Ernestine and Herminie, he noticed such a grave, deeply troubled expression, that the veteran, not knowing what to think, but apprehending some serious difficulty, again exclaimed:
"Olivier, my boy, what is the matter? What prevents you from signing?"
"Read that name, uncle," replied the young man, pointing with a trembling finger to Ernestine's signature.
"Ernestine Vert-Puis de Beaumesnil!" exclaimed the old man, bringing the contract closer to his eyes, as if he could not believe what he saw. Then, turning to Ernestine, he cried:
"You—mademoiselle—you, Mlle. de Beaumesnil?"
"Yes, monsieur," said M. de la Rochaiguë; "I, Mlle. de Beaumesnil's guardian, do declare, certify, and affirm that this young lady is my ward. It was for this reason that my presence at her marriage was indispensable."
Olivier had turned frightfully pale, and it was in a strangely altered voice that he said, "Pardon my—my bewilderment,—every one here will understand it. You—Mlle. de Beaumesnil! You, whom I thought poor and alone in the world,—because you told me so. What object could you have had in this deception?"