The room was not yet lighted, the evening shadows were creeping in, and up out of the town came the ringing of the vesper bell from the church of the Recollets. For a moment there was stillness in the room and all around us, and then the chaplain began in a low voice: "I require and charge you both--" and so on. In a few moments I had made the great vow, and had put on Alixe's finger a ring which the clergyman drew from his own hand. Then we knelt down, and I know we both prayed most fervently with the good man that we might "ever remain in perfect love and perfect peace together." Rising, he paused, and I went to the door and knocked upon it. It was opened by Gabord. "Come in, Gabord," said I. "There is a thing that you must hear." He stepped back and got a light, and then entered, holding it up, and shutting the door. A strange look came upon his face when he saw the chaplain, and a stranger when, stepping beside Alixe, I took her hand, and Mr. Wainfleet declared us man and wife. He stood like one dumfounded, and he did not stir as Alixe, turning to me, let me kiss her on the lips, and then went to the crucifix on the wall and embraced the feet of it, and stood for a moment, praying. Nor did he move or make a sign till she came back and stood beside me. "A pretty scene!" he burst forth then with anger. "But, by God! no marriage is it!" Alixe's hand tightened on my arm, and she drew close to me. "A marriage that will stand at Judgment Day, Gabord," said I. "But not in France or here. 'Tis mating wild, with end of doom." "It is a marriage our great Archbishop at Lambeth Palace will uphold against a hundred popes and kings," said the chaplain with importance. "You are no priest, but holy peddler!" cried Gabord roughly. "This is not mating as Christians, and fires of hell shall burn--aho! I will see you all go down, and hand of mine shall not be lifted for you!" He puffed out his cheeks, and his great eyes rolled so like fire-wheels. "You are a witness to this ceremony," said the chaplain. "And you shall answer to your God, but you must speak the truth for this man and wife." "Man and wife?" laughed Gabord wildly. "May I die and be damned to--" Like a flash Alixe was beside him, and put to his lips most swiftly the little wooden cross that Mathilde had given her. "Gabord, Gabord," she said in a sweet, sad voice, "when you may come to die, a girl's prayers will be waiting at God's feet for you." He stopped, and stared at her. Her hand lay on his arm, and she continued: "No night gives me sleep, Gabord, but I pray for the jailer who has been kind to an ill-treated gentleman." "A juggling gentleman, that cheats Gabord before his eyes, and smuggles in a mongrel priest!" he blustered.