And the father, taking pity upon his son's prostration, softened the severity of his tone by adding: "Nominoë, I shall now address myself to your loyalty of heart. I wish to believe, I do believe that your scruples, so tardily expressed, are sincere. You fear you may not render Tina as happy as the good girl deserves. You fear to plunge her into mortal anxiety for your life, perhaps into the mourning of widowhood, should the insurrection of Brittany break out to-morrow. To all that my answer is: You would have to be a man of selfish heart before I could believe you capable of rendering unhappy a creature who loves you with all her heart and soul. But you are what you are. Now, then, I swear to God, whatever the nature may be of your affection for your wife, she will have nothing for which to envy the happiest of wives. My conviction on that head is complete, absolute. Do you imagine that, if I believed otherwise, I would fail to be the first to wish, in fact, to order you, however late the hour, to break off the match? No, no, my son, I have more confidence in you than you seem to have in yourself. There, then, remains this one objection--the imminence of an uprising in which we would take part, and, consequently, Tina's anxiety for your safety. As to that, you are right, my son; your apprehensions are well founded; but the sorrows that you foresee for your bride are not pressing, while, on the other hand, I see a certain sentence of death for the poor girl in your refusal to marry her." "Great God!" exclaimed Nominoë with a shudder, unable to prevent himself from sharing his father's fears.