"I am Barbesieur's sister, but thou art my affianced!"
"Neither daughter nor sister of any man, my Laura; thou art thyself- -and being thyself—mine."
"Thine for life and death," was her reply, "and from this hour I know no will of mine."
"Then, ere thy father suspects our love, it must be sanctified before the altar of God. Our faith once plighted there, no hand of mortal can wrest thee from my side. Art ready to speak the irrevocable words that bind us together as man and wife?"
"I am ready," replied she, clasping her hands, and looking solemnly up to heaven. "If, in my eager acquiescence, I seem unmaidenly, forgive me; but I dare not be coy, Eugene; we have no time for conventional reserve, and I must act as becomes a brave and trusting woman, for every moment is fraught with danger. I am surrounded by spies, even of my own household, and, until I hear the blessing of the priest, I shall disbelieve my own happiness."
"Then hear me, dearest. I know how crafty are the spies of Louvois, and I tremble lest the whispering breeze betray our secret. Yes, we must be diligent, so diligent that Fate shall stand between our love and all contingency. For two days I shall part from thee—long days that will steep my soul in darkness! But day after to-morrow, at this same hour of the evening, I shall be here with the chaplain of the Princess de Carignan, an old and dear friend, who will bless our bridal. As witnesses, I will be accompanied by my kinsmen, the Princes de Conti, two of the worthiest nobles of France. Be in readiness, my best beloved, that not a word need be spoken until we are married. Then away with me to the Hotel de Soissons, where those who love, may seek thee in thy husband's home."
"So soon?" murmured Laura, blushing. "Shall I leave my dear mistress without a word? Is she not to share our secret?"
"Assuredly not; for it would burden her with a painful responsibility. It would be her duty to betray you, artless child."
"Oh, I will not speak!" exclaimed Laura, eagerly. "I will be silent; and when—when we are married, we will beg so humbly for forgiveness that she will have to grant it."
"You must leave a note declaring everything; for with our marriage ends all secrecy. I will neither see you nor write until the appointed time. Dismiss your household as early as possible, and, if all is propitious, place a light in yonder window. If I see it, I will enter with the priest, and, lest there should be interruption, he will begin the ceremony at once."