Meanwhile, the high-flown marquise was asking herself whether the duke was altogether so admirable a party, and she was beginning to see it more clearly than she had seen for many years, the joys of that early martial life of hers, and the happy, loving husband _her_ captain made. And while she sat recalling that old time there was a great whirr from without. The next moment twenty common soldiers of the brave eleventh had burst into the room, headed by the Captain Tony. For love _will_ make cowards of us, as he will, at his capricious pleasure, make us heroes of bravery. And then, and there, before all that fine company, they called out in a loud voice to the marquise’s daughter, addressed her as Marie, reminded her of vivandiering days, and recommended her to desert. The grand ladies were immensely shocked at this awful exposition; for it is needless to say that the story of Marie’s discovery had not, at any time, formed part of the marquise’s aristocratic confidences; and, indeed, the marquise herself was ready to shrink into the ground; but when she remembered the old dare-devil time--the spirit which had prompted her to marry the dead captain, now rose against the shocked indignation of the grand people present; and then Marie’s tears--and then a rather strong fear that the duke would cry off; why all those reasons were as good as a crack advocate speaking for Captain Tony. And the consequence was, that when the notary respectfully asked for the name of the bridegroom--as though he did not know it--the marquise gave judgment in Tony’s favor, and surprised the notary, and the whole aristocratic company, by turning to the captain, and leading him up to a quill-pen dipped in ink. And so Marie was given away before, at all events, a portion of the brave eleventh, and certainly with that portion’s full approbation. The aristocratic ladies were shocked; but the marquise, by the lightness of her own heart, and the brightness of Marie’s eyes, knew she had judged wisely; and so she fearlessly looked the grand ladies full in the face. * * * * * Rataplan! Rataplan! Marie is the Daughter of the Regiment still! NORMA. (BELLINI.) CHAPTER I. Rome, all powerful, had thrown out her arms to the east and the west, to the north and to the south, and boasted of being mistress of the world. She had conquered all Germany and Spain, and overcome the Gauls; and not only the Gauls, but the Druids, that powerful and wonderful priesthood, the relics of whose mysterious rites yet remain in various parts of the world. This priesthood rose several times against the Roman yoke, and proved over and over again that they were not wanting in bravery, daring, or hardihood. At the conquest of Gaul, the Pro-Consul appointed to Cambria, was named Pollione. Near his palace was the sacred Druidic Forest, within which dwelt the mysterious priesthood.