"Not yet, father, but we will be if you will unite us," answered Anatole.
"Good; I will confess you both to-night, and to-morrow I will marry you."
That night the lovers were parted for the first time for a year, yet they were happy, for they had made a good confession, and to-morrow no man could part them.
In the morning the priest consecrated their union, and when all was over he said,—
"And now farewell, my children, and be happy and faithful to your vows."
"Will you not stay with us till the next ship comes?" asked Anatole.
"No; I can provide for myself, and I wish to see more of this island while I am here. I may see you again before you leave this island. God be with you, now let me go alone."
It appeared like a command as he uttered the words, so they let him go; not, however, before they had laden him with presents of provisions and directions how best to cater for himself. Then he left them, walking away with his load.
They watched him go up the valley until a cliff hid him, and then they turned and embraced each other.
"Now, indeed, you are my own wife."
"Yes, Anatole; and our baby need not blush for its parents," she replied, a happy smile irradiating her lovely face.
Three weeks after this, as Anatole lay asleep, he had a singular dream. He dreamt that a woman, young and beautiful, came into the cave and whispered something to his wife, then other females came and
