I
never was half so long upon the surface afore, and it's done me a power
of good. At Cripple Corner, I was too much below it. Atop of the
Simpleton, I was a deal too high above it. I've found the medium here,
sir. And if ever I take it in convivial, in all the rest of my days, I
mean to do it this day, to the toast of 'Bless 'em both.'"
"I, too!" says Bintrey. "And now, Monsieur Voigt, let you and me be two
men of Marseilles, and allons, marchons, arm-in-arm!"
They go down to the door, where others are waiting for them, and they go
quietly to the church, and the happy marriage takes place. While the
ceremony is yet in progress, the notary is called out. When it is
finished, he has returned, is standing behind Vendale, and touches him on
the shoulder.
"Go to the side door, one moment, Monsieur Vendale. Alone. Leave Madame
to me."
At the side door of the church, are the same two men from the Hospice.
They are snow-stained and travel-worn. They wish him joy, and then each
lays his broad hand upon Vendale's breast, and one says in a low voice,
while the other steadfastly regards him:
"It is here, Monsieur. Your litter. The very same."
"My litter is here? Why?"
"Hush! For the sake of Madame. Your companion of that day--"
"What of him?"
The man looks at his comrade, and his comrade takes him up. Each keeps
his hand laid earnestly on Vendale's breast.
"He had been living at the first Refuge, monsieur, for some days.
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