“Is there any one here to gainsay the marriage?” asked Jupiter. There was no reply. “Then, in the name of the French nation, I decree that the ceremony shall proceed. Citizen Minister of Marine, are you willing to take this woman as your lawful wife?” A cold sweat stood upon the brow of Bagsby, his knees knocked together, and he leaned the whole weight of his body upon my arm, as I interpreted to him the demand of Jupiter. “Say any thing you like,” muttered he; “it will all come to the same thing at last!” “The citizen consents, most venerable President.” “Then nothing remains but to put the same question to the citoyenne,” said Potard. “Who appears as the father of the bride?” “_Chûte de la Bastille!_ that do I,” cried Destripes. “Citizen Destripes, do you of your own free will and accord—” Here a thundering rap was heard at the door. “What is that?” cried Destripes starting back. “Some one has passed the barricade!” “In the name of the Provisional Government!” cried a loud voice. The door was flung open, and to my inexpressible joy, I beheld the Count of Monte-Christo, backed by a large detachment of the National Guard. “Treason! treachery!” shouted Destripes. “Ah, villain, thou hast neglected thy post!” and he fetched a tremendous blow with his axe at the head of Gratte-les-rues. It was fortunate for that chief that his helmet was of excellent temper, otherwise he must have been cloven to the chin. As it was, he staggered backwards and fell. The National Guard immediately presented their muskets. “I have the honour to inform the citizens,” said Monte-Christo, “that I have imperative orders to fire if the slightest resistance is made. Monsieur, therefore, will have the goodness immediately to lay down that axe.” Destripes glared on him for a moment, as though he meditated a rush, but the steady attitude of the National Guard involuntarily subdued him. “This is freedom!” he exclaimed, flinging away his weapon. “This is what we fought for at the barricades! Always deceived—always sold by the aristocrats! But the day may come when I shall hold a tight reckoning with thee, my master, or I am not the nephew of the citizen Samson!” “Pray, may I ask the meaning of this extraordinary scene?” said Monte-Christo, gazing in astonishment at the motley group before him. “Is it the intention of the gentlemen to institute a Crusade, or have we lighted by chance upon an assemblage of the chivalry of Malta?” “Neither,” I replied. “The fact is, that just as you came in we were engaged in celebrating a republican marriage.” “Far be it from me to interfere with domestic or connubial arrangements!” replied the polite Monte-Christo. “Let the marriage go on, by all means; I shall be delighted to witness it, and we can proceed to business thereafter.”