THE BETROTHAL.
It was no longer a secret, but was in everybody's mouth, that six
weeks after the funeral there was to be a betrothal ceremony in the
Baradlay house, and the latter was, they said, to receive a new name.
Friends and neighbours from the country around had been invited in the
baroness's name to a family festival.
There was a great bustle of expectation when it was announced that the
hero of the day, Benedict RideghvAiry, was coming, seated in a
brand-new coach which was drawn by five splendid horses. On the box
was perched a magnificent hussar, who sprang down to open the carriage
door and to help the great man alight with all the dignity demanded by
his lofty rank and the importance of the occasion.
"My dear sir," one of the administrator's friends hastened to announce
to him, with considerable concern in his tone, "I notice a good many
strange faces in there."
"Very likely, Zebulon," answered the administrator, briefly.
"That is, I know the faces well enough," explained the other, "but the
people are strangers to me."
"I don't understand," returned RideghvAiry, with a laugh.
"Don't understand?" repeated Zebulon TallA(C)rossy impatiently; "but you
will understand as soon as you are pleased to look around. The hall is
full of people belonging to the opposition; we know them, but we are
not on terms of acquaintance with them."
The great man now found the matter worthy of his attention, but did
not allow it to cause him undue concern. The principal men of the
county, he said to himself, had come to pay their compliments to the
son and heir, without regard to party. It was merely a conventional
form, and was, he felt sure, entirely without political significance.
Nevertheless, he would have preferred not to meet in that house his
inveterate opponent at the Green Table, TormAindy; but the Baradlay
mansion was on that day open to all comers, of whatever party.
Among the early arrivals was the much-persecuted priest, the Reverend
Bartholomew LAinghy, Aranka's father, whose appearance was a surprise
to many of the guests. His bearing was that of one whose part in the
festivities of the day was to be of no small importance. Indeed, the
preparations for a grand function were so manifest on every side that
RideghvAiry's good friend, Zebulon TallA(C)rossy, soon came to him for
further information.
"So there is to be a grand ceremony, is there?" he asked.
"Certainly," was the reply; "the bridegroom's spokesman goes to the
bride's representative and makes formal petition for her hand in
marriage. Receiving a favourable reply, he returns to the bridegroom,
the double doors are thrown open, and the retinue of ladies enters
with the bride at its head. Then comes the rest of the ceremony."
"Ah, that will be a fine spectacle."
The two gentlemen then went in quest of Count Paul GAilfalvy, whom the
administrator had chosen to act for him in this important matter.
After shaking hands, they began to exchange witticisms over the great
number of their political opponents who had assembled there to witness
their enemy's triumph. Thus talking and laughing, they failed to note
that TormAindy was at that moment engaged in earnest consultation with
the Reverend Bartholomew LAinghy. They were therefore unpleasantly
surprised when TormAindy's stentorian voice fell on their ears,
imposing a sudden hush on all present.
"Silence in the hall, gentlemen!" he cried. "We all know to what a
glad festival we are this day invited. A new sun has risen over the
house of Baradlay in the person of its new head, to whom, both for
his own sake and for that of our fatherland, we heartily wish long
life and prosperity. The bridegroom, whom Providence has called to be
the head of this house in the vigour of his youth,--"
"He puts it rather strongly," commented RideghvAiry to himself.
"--has commissioned me as his spokesman--"
"What's that?" exclaimed RideghvAiry and his friends, looking at one
another in amazement.
"--to ask the representative of the bride whether he gives his consent
to the desired union."
By this time the administrator and those at his side were fairly dumb
with astonishment. If TormAindy was spokesman for the bridegroom, what
part was Paul GAilfalvy supposed to play? And who was to reply for the
bride? The superintendent was expected to discharge that function, but
he was nowhere to be seen. The confusion became still worse confounded
when the Reverend Bartholomew LAinghy stepped forward in response to
TormAindy's address, and in clear tones thus made answer:
"Those ordained of heaven for each other let naught but death put
asunder. Let them who are already one in love be joined together in
holy matrimony."
"The parson is crazy!" exclaimed Zebulon in utter bewilderment.
But the solution of the enigma was not long delayed. The double doors
at the farther end of the hall were thrown open and the procession of
ladies entered, led by the widow Baradlay, who presented Aranka LAinghy
to the assembled company as the bride. It was a beautiful sight,--the
elder lady in a trailing black gown, a garnet diadem in her hair, and
a long-unwonted smile lighting up her face and giving her the aspect
of a beautiful queen; and the fair young bride at her side, in robe of
white with white hyacinths for her ornaments and a modest blush adding
its charm to her sweet maidenly dignity. Each type of beauty, so
entirely opposite in character, was perfect in its kind.
There was a murmur of surprise and admiration among the guests, and
all pressed forward in eager expectancy. A marble table with a gold
plate on it stood near the folding doors. Over the plate was spread a
lace napkin. The bridal party took their places at this table, and the
priest, Aranka's father, removed the napkin from the plate, revealing
two simple gold rings. One of these he then put on A-dAśn's finger, and
the other on Aranka's. Finally he placed the bride's hand in the
groom's. No word was spoken, there was nothing but this simple
ceremony; but it was impressive in the extreme. The whole company
broke into cheers, and even Zebulon TallA(C)rossy caught himself shouting
to the full capacity of his lungs; he only recognised his mistake
upon meeting the glance of the administrator, who looked at him with
severe disapproval, whereupon the other endeavoured to atone for his
misplaced enthusiasm by acting on a brilliant suggestion that suddenly
occurred to him.
"So there is to be a double betrothal," he remarked, blandly, to the
would-be bridegroom; but the latter only turned his back upon him with
a muttered imprecation.
Administrator RideghvAiry was the first to take his departure; but
before he went he had a final interview with the woman whom he had
hoped to claim as his bride that day.
"Madam," said he, as he bade her farewell, "this is the last time I
shall have the happiness to be the guest of the Baradlay family. I
should not have believed the greatest prophet, had he foretold to me
this morning what was about to occur. And yet I myself am not without
the spirit of prophecy. You, madam, and your son have deviated from
the course laid down for you in his dying hour by that great man, your
husband and my sincere friend. That course he communicated to me
before broaching the matter to you. You have chosen the very opposite
path to that which he opened for you, and I beg you to remember in
future what I now say: the way you have chosen leads upward, but the
height to which it leads is--the scaffold!"