"You were at Vesoul together before being moved to Verdun?"
"Yes."
"What else do you know about Bycliffe?"
"Oh, nothing very particular," said Christian pausing, and rapping his boot with his cane. "He'd been in the Hanoverian army—a high-spirited fellow, took nothing easily; not over-strong in health. He made a fool of himself with marrying at Vesoul; and there was the devil to pay with the girl's relations; and then, when the prisoners were ordered off, they had to part. Whether they ever got together again I don't know."
"Was the marriage all right then?"
"Oh, all on the square—civil marriage, church—everything. Bycliffe was a fool—a good-natured, proud, headstrong fellow."
"How long did the marriage take place before you left Vesoul?"
"About three months. I was witness to the marriage."
"And you know no more about the wife?"
"Not afterward. I knew her very well before—pretty Annette—Annette Ledru was her name. She was of a good family, and they had made up a fine match for her. But she was one of your meek little diablesses, who have a will of their own once in their lives—the will to choose their own master."