"I prefer having the money and you," he replied, with his frightful smile. "Why should I not prize what other people covet? You are my wife; nothing can set that aside. Your money is mine, and you are mine; why should I forfeit either?" "No," I said, growing calmer; "I do not belong to you. No laws on earth can give you the ownership you claim over me. Richard, you might have won me, if you had been a good man. But you are evil and selfish, and you have lost me forever." "The silly raving of an ignorant girl!" he sneered; "the law will compel you to return to me. I will take the law into my own hands, and compel you to go with me at once. If there is no conveyance to be hired in this confounded hole, we will walk down the road together, like two lovers, and wait for the omnibus. Come, Olivia." Our voices had not risen much above their undertones yet, but these last words he spoke more loudly. Jean opened the door of the sacristy and looked out, and Pierre skated down to the corner of the transept to see who was speaking. I lifted the hand Richard was not holding, and beckoned Jean to me. "Jean," I said, in a low tone still, "this man is my enemy. Monsieur le Curé knows all about him; but he is not here. You must protect me." "Certainly, madame," he replied, his eyes more roundly open than ordinarily.--"Monsieur, have the goodness to release madame." "She is my wife," retorted Richard Foster. "I have told all to Monsieur le Curé," I said. "_Bon!_" ejaculated Jean. Monsieur le Curé is gone to England; it is necessary to wait till his return, Monsieur Englishman." "Fool!" said Richard in a passion, "she is my wife, I tell you." "_Bon!_" he replied phlegmatically, "but it is my affair to protect madame. There is no resource but to wait till Monsieur le Curé returns from his voyage. If madame does not say, 'This is my husband,' how can I believe you? She says, 'He is my enemy.' I cannot confide madame to a stranger." "I will not leave her," he exclaimed with an oath, spoken in English, which Jean could not understand. "Good! very good! Pardon, monsieur," responded Jean, laying his iron fingers upon the hand that held me, and loosening its grip as easily as if it had been the hand of a child.--"_Voilà_! madame, you are free. Leave Monsieur the Englishman to me, and go away into the house, if you please." I did not wait to hear any further altercation, but fled as quickly as I could into the presbytery. Up into my own chamber I ran, drew a heavy chest against the door, and fell down trembling and nerveless upon the floor beside it.