“All obligations were canceled by the wrong he did you,” said Mr. Rodney. “Perhaps so. He saved my life, but then he certainly made it valueless to me,” said the wounded man, musingly. After a moment, he continued: “After a short time and without any further solicitation on my part, he consented to allow me to consider the beautiful Julie my _fiancée_, but only on condition that we never met until the bridal day. Although I was most eager to meet my fair intended bride, I was forced to acquiesce in his decision. Indeed, I did not greatly care to change it. I was carried away by the romantic idea of never meeting my bride until the hour that gave her to my eager arms. Its very difference to the customs of my own country had its peculiar charm for me. Monsieur Sanson wrote to his daughter, and she consented to the marriage in a _naive_ pretty letter that transported me with rapture. It was arranged that the fair one would leave her convent school to become my bride in about six months. Do I weary you with all this preliminary explanation, Mr. Rodney?” inquired the invalid, pausing suddenly. “On the contrary, I am deeply interested in your story,” replied the lawyer. “I will hasten to the end, then,” said Oran Delaney. “We continued our travels for awhile, when about two months before the time set for my marriage, Monsieur left me, to return to his villa at Nice, ostensibly to make preparations for the marriage. He was to write to me when to come, but in little more than a week I was telegraphed to go to his death-bed. He had accidentally shot himself.” He was growing excited now. The feeble breath came from his lips in great palpitating gasps. “You are over-tasking yourself,” Mr. Rodney reminded him again. “No, I shall soon have done now,” Mr. Delaney answered. “Well, I went with all haste to Nice, and I arrived there late one night, and found Monsieur Sanson dying, indeed. They told me that he had been handling a revolver when it exploded in his hand, fatally wounding him. He lay at the point of death, and his one anxiety was his fair young daughter whom he was leaving alone in the world. Would I have any objection to fulfilling my marriage contract now, he asked me, that he might die satisfied? “I told him I would marry Julie at once, and his mind was at once relieved of its load of care. Preparations were made for a midnight marriage. A priest was summoned. Everything was arranged with perfect legality.” He paused and swept his aristocratic white hand wearily across his brow.