He was now a lieutenant.
At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercedes; at the second he reminded her that he loved her.

Mercedes begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond." "So that," said the abbe, with a bitter smile, "that makes eighteen months in all.

What more could the most devoted lover desire ?" Then he murmured the words of the English poet, "'Frailty, thy name is woman.'" "Six months afterwards," continued Caderousse, "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules." "The very church in which she was to have married Edmond," murmured the priest; "there was only a change of bride-grooms." "Well, Mercedes was married," proceeded Caderousse; "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm, she nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve, where, eighteen months before, the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart.

Fernand, more happy, but not more at his ease--for I saw at this time he was in constant dread of Edmond's return--Fernand was very anxious to get his wife away, and to depart himself.

There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans, and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles." "Did you ever see Mercedes again ?" inquired the priest.
"Yes, during the Spanish war, at Perpignan, where Fernand had left her; she was attending to the education of her son." The abbe started.