“’Tis the only remedy, I think,” replied Mr. Morris.  “I fear there is no doubt as to d’Azay’s fate when arraigned, as he will be to-morrow.  Too many of his friends have already suffered that same fate to leave any reasonable hope that his will be other or happier.”  He drew Calvert to one side and spoke in a low tone.  “Indeed, I think ’tis more than probable that he is guilty of the charges preferred against him and would go over to Monsieur de Conde had he the chance.  I have known for a long while that he has become thoroughly disgusted with the trend of affairs here, and has no thought now but to serve the King.  I think he has broken with Lafayette entirely since the affair of St. Cloud, and his change of political faith is only too well known here.  If he does not leave Paris to-night, he will never leave it.”

“Then,” said Mr. Calvert, “I am ready to do my part.”

“No, no, ’tis impossible that this thing should be,” broke out Mr. Morris, looking at the young man’s pale, gloomy face.  “I had hoped that it would be the greatest happiness; was I, then, mistaken?”

Calvert laid his hand on the elder man’s shoulder.

“Hush, she must not hear.  ’Tis an agreement we have entered into,” he says, hurriedly.  “Will you call a priest and send for the Duchess and d’Azay?”

“The Bishop of Autun has just come in,” said Mr. Morris, after a moment’s silence, and pressing the young man’s hand, “and there is no time to send for anyone.  I will go myself and ask him to come up.”

They came in together in a very few moments, His Grace of Autun grave and asking no questions (from which Calvert rightly argued that Mr. Morris had confided in him), but with a concerned and kindly air toward the young man, for whom he had always entertained an especial liking.  In a simple and impressive manner he repeated the marriage service in the presence of Mr. Morris and some of the servants of the household, called in to be witnesses, Adrienne kneeling beside the couch on which Calvert lay, for he was too weak and ill to stand longer.

The strange scene was quickly over, the two parted almost without a word, Adrienne being led away by Mr. Morris to the Hotel de Ville, and Mr. Calvert remanded to bed by the surgeon, who was just arrived to dress his wound.

CHAPTER XX

MR. CALVERT SEES A SHORT CAMPAIGN UNDER LAFAYETTE

The project which Calvert had formed for joining the army he was able to put into execution within a couple of weeks.  The fever which had attacked him having entirely subsided and his wound healing rapidly, he was soon well enough to feel a consuming restlessness and craving for action.  The painful experience through which he had just passed, the still more painful future to which he had to look forward, aroused an irresistible longing for some immediate and violent change of scene and thought.  His vague plan for