The captain rose to please her，chiding her the while with a smile of satisfied vanity.'What a child it is！Apropos，sweetheart，have you ever seen me in gala uniform？'
'Alas！no，'said she.
'Ah，that's worth looking at！'He reseated himself beside the gipsy，but much closer this time than before.'Listen，my sweet—'
The gipsy girl gave two or three little taps of her pretty hand on his mouth with a playfulness that was full of child-like grace and gaiety.'No，no，I will not listen to anything.Do you love me？I want you to tell me if you love me.'
'Do I love thee，angel of my life！'exclaimed the captain，sinking on one knee before her.'I am thine—body，blood，and soul；all，all would I give for thee.I love thee，and have never loved but thee.'
The captain had so often repeated this sentence，on so many similar occasions，that he delivered it at one breath，and without a single blunder.At this passionate declaration the Egyptian raised to the dingy ceiling—which here took the place of heaven—a look full of ineffable happiness.'Oh，'she murmured，'this is the moment at which one should die！'
P us found'the moment'more suitable for snatching another kiss，which went to torture the miserable Archdeacon in his hiding-place.
'Die！'cried the amorous captain.'What are you saying，my angel？This is the time to live，or Jupiter is but a scoundrel！To die at the beginning of so delicious an occasion！Corne de f—that were a poor joke indeed！No，indeed.Listen，my dear Similar，Esmenarda—Pardon me！but you've got a name so prodigiously Saracen that I can't get it out properly—'tis a thicket that always brings me up short.'
'Alas！'said the poor girl，'and I used to like the name for its singularity.But since it displeases you，I would I were called Goton.'
'Oh，'tis not worth crying about，sweetheart！It's a name one must get accustomed to，that's all.Once I know it by heart，'twill come readily enough.Listen，then，my Similar，I love you to distraction—it's positively miraculous how much I love you.I know a little girl who is bursting with rage over it.'
'Who is that？'the gipsy broke in jealously.
'What does it matter to us？'answered P us.'Do you love me？'
'Oh！'said she.
'Well，that's enough.You shall see how much I love you too.May the great demon Neptune stick me on his fork，if I don't make you the happiest creature living.We'll have a pretty little lodging somewhere.My archers shall parade before your windows.They are all mounted，and cut out those of Captain Mignon completely.There are bill-men，cross-bowmen，and culverin-men.I will take you to the great musters of the Paris men-at-arms at the Grange de Rully.That's a very magnificent sight.Eighty thousand men under arms—thirty thousand in shining armour；the sixty-seven banners of the trade guilds；the standards of the Parliament，of the Chamber of Accounts，the Public Treasury，of the Workers in the Mint—in short，a devilish fine show！Then I'll take you to see the lions at the King's palace—beasts of prey，you know—women always like that.'
For some minutes the girl，absorbed in her own happy thoughts，had been dreaming to the sound of his voice with-out attending to his words.
'Oh，how happy you will be，'continued the soldier，and at the same time gently unfastening the gipsy's belt.
'What are you doing？'she said brusquely—this forceful proceeding had roused her from her dreams.
'Nothing，'answered P us.'I was only saying that you would have to put away all this mountebank，street-dancer costume when you are going to be with me.'
'To be with you，my P us，'said the girl fondly，and she fell silent and dreamy again.
Emboldened by her gentleness the captain clasped his arm about her waist without her offering any resistance；he then began softly to unlace the pretty creature's bodice，and so disarranged her neckerchief，that from out of it the panting priest beheld the gipsy's beautiful bare shoulder rise，round and dusky as the moon through a misty horizon.
The girl let P us work his will.She seemed unconscious of what he was doing.The captain's eyes gleamed.Suddenly she turned to him.'P us，'she said with a look of boundless love，'teach me your religion.'
'My religion！'exclaimed the captain with a guffaw.'Teach you my religion！Thunder and lightning！what do you want with my religion？'
'That we may be married，'answered she.
A mingled look of surprise，disdain，unconcern，and licentious passion swept over the captain's face.'Ah，bah！'said he，'who talks of marriage？'
The gipsy turned pale，and let her head droop sadly on her breast.
'Sweetheart，'went on P us fondly，'what matters such foolery as marriage？Shall we be any less loving for not having gabbled some Latin in a priest's shop？'
