'Neither Louis nor my father shall have it in their power to make me the wife of a man I cannot love. My family are exiled; Lorraine is now but a name—a French province; its dukedom is a shadow. We are equal; and your country and home, dear Arthur, shall henceforth be mine!'
After this I need scarcely add more; but we had De Brissac and his three companions to baffle, the Rhine to cross, Flanders to traverse, and the sea to pass before we saw my father's tower amid the wilds of Glenkens; and many a bold and daring adventure we had on the journey—adventures sufficient to fill ten such volumes as this.
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Marie Louise was a true woman; thus, when I appealed to her love and her generosity cold reason gave way, and she agreed to unite her fortunes with me.
Love on one hand, with the Bastille on the other, were powerful arguments; and if any more were required Father Colville of the Scottish College of Pontamoussin supplied them; for he had great influence with her, and was warmly disposed towards me. The priest knew that he owed perhaps too much to Duke Charles to free him from some blame in wedding his daughter to me without a special permission; but considering that by doing so he advanced, as he said in his own quaint way, 'the honour, comfort, and commoditie of a Scottish gentleman,' he had no qualms in the matter, spiritual or temporal, and at once agreed to bless the indissoluble knot.
Brevity is necessary now, for my volume is already full.
We were married that evening in the little oratory of Lutzelstein, at the door of which stood Frank Ruthven, with his sword drawn, to prevent espionage or interruption; and the sole witnesses were Richard Maxwell Viscount of Dundrennan, and the attendant of Marie Louise, a young lady of the province, named Anna Mulhausen, daughter of the Grand Bailiff of Alsace, a flaxen-haired little beauty who loved her mistress well, and whom we easily bound to solemn secresy.
Our next achievement was to baffle the acuteness of M. de Brissac, who proposed to leave with his prisoner when the moon rose, that he might travel as far as possible unseen. It was resolved, that as we could not leave this solitary tower unknown to him, we should by a ruse elude his vigilance. Thus: he was to be permitted to hand Marie Louise into the coach on one side of the dark and narrow archway of the outworks, when she would leave it in a moment and unseen, by the other. My heart beat quickly and painfully as the sunset deepened on the mountains; as the moon arose, the night drew on and the moment of escape approached when Marie Louise and I would be together—together and cast upon the world never in life to be separated more! I carefully examined the two horses Dundrennan kept for us at the back postern of the tower; I inspected every buckle of their bridles and girths; I armed myself carefully, like one about to engage in a deadly struggle, and double-charged my girdle and holster pistols.
The rumble of wheels in the court-yard, announced that the old-fashioned coach in which we had captured Marie Louise was being prepared for her again; and the glare of torches on the walls and grated windows of the tower, with the clatter of hoofs, informed me that the horses of De Brissac, of the Chevalier of Notre Dame de Mont Carmel, and of the two grey mousquetaires were ready.
Ah, what a breathless and exciting time it was! Luckily the moon became veiled in clouds, and Dundrennan ordered all the torches to be extinguished, saying, with a wink to me, that 'the vaults were full of live bombs and gunpowder.'