the bride, and occupied themselves with her alone. We were married!
"'Kiss your wife,' said the priest.
"My wife turned her pale face towards me. I was going to kiss her, when she exclaimed, 'Oh! it is not he—not he!' and fell back insensible.
"The witnesses stared at me. I turned round and left the church without any attempt being made to stop me, threw myself into the sledge, and cried, 'Away!'"
"What!" exclaimed Maria. "And you don't know what became of your unhappy wife?"
"I do not," replied Bourmin; "neither do I know the name of the village where I was married, nor that of the station from which I started. At that time I thought so little of my wicked joke that, on driving away from the church, I fell asleep, and never woke till early the next morning, after reaching the third station. The servant who was with me died during the campaign, so that I have now no hope of ever discovering the unhappy woman on whom I played such a cruel trick, and who is now so cruelly avenged."
"Great heavens!" cried Maria, seizing his hand. "Then it was you, and you do not recognise me?"
Bourmin turned pale—and threw himself at her feet.
