"I believe so," Don Sebastian answered, with his sad smile. "Consent to accept my niece from my hand, and marry her at once in this chapel."
"Oh, general!" he began, choking with emotion.
"Uncle, at this awful moment!" the young lady murmured, timidly.
"Allow me the supreme consolation of dying under the knowledge that you are happy. Don Valentine, you have doubtless brought some of your friends with you?"
"They are awaiting your commands, general," the hunter answered.
"Let them come in, in that case, for time presses."
One of the monks had prepared everything beforehand.
When the hunters and the French banker entered, followed by Curumilla, and the officer commanding the capilla guard, who had been warned beforehand, the general walked eagerly toward them.
"Señores," he said, "I would ask you to do me the honour of witnessing the marriage of my niece, Doña Anita de Torrés, with this caballero."
The newcomers bowed respectfully. At a signal from one of the Franciscans they knelt down and the ceremony began. It lasted hardly twenty minutes, but never had a marriage mass been read or listened to with more pious fervour. When it was ended, the witnesses wished to retire.