CHAPTER VII.
The next day at sharp nine two carriages were at the door.
But the ladies were not ready. Thus early in the campaign did they throwall into disorder. For so nicely had Raynal timed the several eventsthat this threw him all into confusion. He stamped backwards andforwards, and twisted his mustaches, and swore. This enforcedunpunctuality was a new torture to him. Jacintha told them he was angry,and that made them nervous and flurried, and their fingers strayedwildly among hooks and eyes, and all sorts of fastenings; they were notready till half-past nine. Conscious they deserved a scolding, they sentJosephine down first to mollify. She dawned upon the honest soldier soradiant, so dazzling in her snowy dress, with her coronet of pearls (anheirloom), and her bridal veil parted, and the flush of conscious beautyon her cheek, that instead of scolding her, he actually blurted out,"Well! by St. Denis it was worth waiting half an hour for."
He recovered a quarter of an hour by making the driver gallop. Thenoccasional shrieks issued from the carriage that held the baroness. Thatancient lady feared annihilation: she had not come down from a gallopingage.
They drove into the town, drew up at the mayor's house, were receivedwith great ceremony by that functionary and Picard, and entered thehouse.
When their carriages rattled into the street from the north side,Colonel Dujardin had already entered it from the south, and was ridingat a foot's pace along the principal street. The motion of his horse nowshook him past endurance. He dismounted at an inn a few doors from themayor's house, and determined to do the rest of the short journey onfoot. The landlord bustled about him obsequiously. "You are faint,colonel; you have travelled too far. Let me order you an excellentbreakfast."
"No. I want a carriage; have you one?"
"I have two; but, unluckily, they are both engaged for the day, and bypeople of distinction. Commandant Raynal is married to-day."
"Ah! I wish him joy," said Camille, heartily. He then asked the landlordto open the window, as he felt rather faint. The landlord insisted onbreakfast, and Camille sat down to an omelet and a bottle of red wine.Then he lay awhile near the window, revived by the air, and watchedthe dear little street he had not seen for years. He felt languid, buthappy, celestially happy.
She was a few doors from him, and neither knew it.
A pen was put into her white hand, and in another moment she had signeda marriage contract.
"Now to the church," cried the baroness, gayly. To get to the church,they must pass by the window Camille reclined at.
White Lies Page 7
