'I do not understand you,' said I, considerably ruffled by a mixture of anger and agitation which I laboured in vain to conceal. 'I remember a little boy named Duke of Alsace, who accompanied Charles IV. in his procession through Nanci.' 'With his coronet borne before him by a knight of Malta--myself. Well, that little boy is now the husband of Marie Louise,' said he, with a sneer on his pale lip. 'And this espousal--' I gasped. 'Is valid and true, though Louise is nearly twenty and her spouse is not yet ten years of age.' 'Infamous and absurd!' 'Absurd as it is cruel!' added René, with deep emotion; 'but such unions and such measures are justified by the crooked policy of princes and the stern pressure of war. This child is hereditary Duke of Alsace and Lord of the nine Bailiewicks of Leichtenbourg, Baron of Landau and Lauterbourg, of Ferette and Aultkirk; consequently to unite him more closely to the crushed house of Lorraine, duke Charles his guardian--sharp, short, and decisive in everything--arranged, and in three days executed the hitherto unconceived idea of espousing his daughter, in all the bloom of beauty and of womanhood, to a sickly little child.' 'And who performed this atrocious ceremony?' I asked, through my clenched teeth. 'The most reverend Father in God, the Lord Bishop of Strasbourg,' replied René, his dark eyes flashing with irony. 'And when did this happen?' 'About two months ago. I stood by the side of Marie Louise at this sacrifice--a most cruel and wicked sacrifice it was! Yet I would rather see her the bride of this harmless little boy, than of any living man,' continued René, with an emotion that too evidently was not caused by the pain of his wound. 'Yet what is it to me--this cross is my bride?' 'And how did Louise look?' 'Oh, lovelier and paler than ever, M. Blane!' 'Did she weep?' I asked, sternly. 'No--not a tear fell from her; she was pale as marble; and when her father--cold, stern, and proud--kissed her after the cruel ceremony, and whispered gaily (for I heard him), "Mademoiselle, your spouse will grow older, so remember the ancient rhyme, "As your wedding-ring wears, So will your cares,' a sickly smile flitted over her wan face; and her child-husband, who is attracted by her gentleness, and has for her all the love of a son for a mother, or of a brother for a pale and kind sad sister, clung to her robe as he left the altar by her side, confounded and perplexed by the strange ceremony in which he had borne a part so prominent; and more pleased evidently with a handsome falcon given to him by Vaudemont, than the beautiful bride just given him by God.' 'Do not say so!' I exclaimed, passionately. 'True--'tis almost blasphemous--by duke Charles then.' Here was ample food for thought and sorrow! CHAPTER LXV. APPOINTED CAPTAIN OF LUTZELSTEIN.