From the fact that in the ensuing conversation the Abbe addressed the master of the house as Monsieur le Comte, Dick soon understood the toast, the Abbe's look of sly merriment, and the half pleased, half chiding expression of the Count himself. The bottle went round often, and the talk became unconstrained. Dick made it known that he was an American, whereupon he was plied with many questions concerning the war, and particularly concerning the personality of Washington. The Count then said he had seen that great philosopher, Franklin, in Paris, honored by beautiful women and celebrated men, among whom he appeared in his plain coat, as if the simplicity of the ancient sages had been in him revived. "It is in the hope of meeting him," said Dick, "that I am now on the way to Paris." "Then you have a pleasure very near at hand," said the Count. "I trust it is near at hand," said Dick. "It may be delayed by another matter that must intervene,--also a pleasure." "You speak and look as if it were a matter of some doubt or difficulty," said the Count. "If I can be of assistance--" "I thank you, monsieur, but it is a matter in which the aid of Monsieur l'Abbe would be more to the point." "Command me, monsieur," put in the Abbe. "My aid is for whoever asks it." "I begin to understand," said the Count, with a kindly smile. "The lady in the carriage--" "Precisely," said Dick. "Monsieur le Comte is very penetrating." "Oh, no, very stupid, usually," said the Count. "But at present there is a reason why my perception is keen wherever a love affair or a marriage is concerned." "Then it is true, as the toast of Monsieur l'Abbe indicated, that you also are about to achieve happiness? We have to felicitate each other!" "Yes, it is true. And so great is my happiness that I would have the whole world happy at the same time. I was saying this to the Abbe only an hour ago, and wishing for opportunities to make others similarly happy, when, behold, the good God grants my wish by sending you to my door. You would have the aid of the Abbe, you say? Very well. I use the power I have over the Abbe's actions, through his affection for me, to compel his aid in your behalf." "But that is not necessary," said the Abbe. "You know I dote upon runaway matches. I need not apologize, Monsieur Wetheral,--one can easily see, by the circumstances, that yours is a runaway match. It is therefore a love match." "You are right, Monsieur l'Abbe. The young lady was to have been sacrificed, according to the custom that prevails everywhere but in my country. Her horror at the match arranged for her would have distressed you, gentlemen, if you could have witnessed it." "I am sure it would have distressed me," said the Count. "But it is now averted, and need be thought of no more. The Abbe shall perform your marriage before you leave my roof, under which you are safe from all pursuit."