"CAN YOU PERFORM THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY AT ONCE, REVEREND SIR?"
It was the hour of eleven by the village clock. Eleven sounded from the
old clock on the mantel. The fire burned low in the grate of Rev. Dr.
Warner's study. The air was growing chill in the room. Still, the old
pastor, who had looked after the village flock for nearly half a
century, heeded neither the time nor the chill, he was so intent upon
the sermon he was writing for the morrow.
He had scarcely concluded the last line ere he heard a well-known tap
upon the door.
He smiled as he arose from his chair, crossed the room and flung open
the door.
He knew well whom he should find standing there, old Adam, the village
sexton and grave digger, who always stopped when he saw a light in the
study window.
"Come in, Adam," said the reverend gentleman; "come up to the fire and
warm yourself; it's a wild night to be about. Has any one sent you here
for me?"
"No, parson," replied Adam, hobbling in. "There's no call for you to be
out on this terrible night, thank Heaven. It's quite by chance that I
left my own fireside myself. I had an errand at the other end of the
village. The weather caught me returning--a regular blizzard--and I have
been floundering about in the drifting snow for hours. I thought I had
lost my way until I saw the light in the window, and--"
But the rest of the sentence was never finished, for at that moment both
men heard distinctly the sound of carriage wheels without, accompanied
by the loud neighing of horses.
Before they could express their wonderment there was a loud peal at the
front door bell.
The reverend gentleman answered the summons in person.
Before him stood three persons, two men and a woman, a slender figure
wearing a long dark cloak, and whose face was covered by a thick veil.
Both men had their coat collars turned up and their hats pulled low over
their faces to protect them from the stinging cold.
"You are the Rev. Dr. Warner?" queried one of the gentlemen. The
minister bowed in the affirmative, hurriedly bidding his guests to
enter.
"You will pardon our errand," exclaimed the stranger who had already
spoken, "but we are here to enlist your services. Can you perform a
wedding ceremony in the old chapel across the way? Our time is limited.
We are in all haste to catch a train, and wish the marriage to take
place with the least possible delay."
"Certainly, certainly, sir," returned the good man. "I am always pleased
to join two souls in holy matrimony. Step in; the lady must be
thoroughly chilled. This is a dreadful night."
"We prefer to make our way directly over to the chapel," remarked the
man who had spoken up to this point. "The lady is warm, having but just
left the carriage, a few steps beyond."
"As you will," responded the pastor. Turning to the old sexton, he said,
quietly: "Will you step over to the church, Adam, brush the snow from
the steps and light the lamps about the altar?"
Adam hastened to carry out his commands. He had scarcely completed his
task when the bridal party entered, preceded by the pastor.
Adam watched them curiously as they filed down the aisle, both men still
supporting the slender figure quite until the altar was reached.
The Rev. Dr. Warner, shivering with the severe cold of the place, picked
up his book quickly.
"Which is the bridegroom?" he asked, looking from one muffled figure to
the other. The man toward the left of the girl dropped back a pace or
two, silently waving his hand toward his friend.
The old minister had never heard the names of the contracting parties
before, and the idle thought for an instant found lodgment in his mind
whether or no they could be fictitious. Then he blamed himself roundly
for his momentary suspicion, and went on hurriedly with the ceremony.
The man answered in a low, guarded voice. There was a tone in it which
somehow jarred on the good minister's sensitive nerves. The girl's voice
was pitifully fluttering, almost hysterical.
But that was not an uncommon occurrence. Few brides are calm and
self-possessed.
"You will please lift your veil for the final benediction," said the
aged pastor, pausing, book in hand, and gazing at the slim, silent,
dark-robed figure, who had made her responses faintly, gaspingly, almost
inaudibly. Again it was the stranger to the left who complied with his
request, but for one instant both the clergyman and the old sexton
caught sight of a face white as death, yet beautiful as an angel's,
framed in a mass of dead-gold hair; but the flickering of the lamps
caused strange shadows to flit over it. There was a moment of utter
silence, broken only by the howling of the wind outside.
Then slowly the minister's voice broke the terrible silence by uttering
the words: "Then I pronounce you man and wife, and whom God hath joined
together let no man put asunder."
As the last word echoed through the dim old church the cold steel of a
revolver, which had been pressed steadily to the girl's throbbing heart
by the hand of the bridegroom, concealed by her long cloak, was quickly
withdrawn.
"My wedded wife!" murmured the man, and in his voice there was a tone of
mocking triumph. The girl swooned in his arms, but, turning quickly with
her, he hurried forward into the dense shadows of the church, carrying
her to the coach in waiting without attracting attention.
He could scarcely restrain himself from shouting aloud, so exuberant
were his spirits.
"Rave. Do whatever you like. You cannot change matters now. I am your
husband, ay, the husband of a girl worth a million of money. When we are
out of hearing of the old parson I will give three rousing cheers to
celebrate the occasion and give vent to my triumph--ay, three cheers and
a tiger with a will and a vengeance."
The appearance of his friend, who had remained behind to adjust the
little matters that needed attention, put a stop to his hilarity for the
moment.
"Well, what's next on the programme? What do you suggest now, Halloran?"
he exclaimed, as that individual sprang into the coach and took his seat
with chattering teeth.
"I propose that you drive to the nearest inn or hostelry, or whatever
they choose to call it hereabouts. I understand there is one some five
miles from here, and, indeed, the horses won't last much longer than
that."
"I'm governed by your advice," replied his companion, with a hilarious
laugh. "Give the order to get to the hostelry as soon as the driver can
make it. Anything will suit me. I'm not proud, even if I have made a
cool million in an hour's time. Ha! ha! ha!"
"Are you mad?" whispered his companion, giving him a violent nudge.
"Bah! You needn't fear that she will hear what I'm saying. The puny
little dear has swooned again. Didn't you notice that I had to fairly
carry her from the altar?"
"These dainty little heiresses have to be handled with kid gloves,"
remarked Halloran. "Fainting when anything goes wrong seems to be their
especial weakness."
"She will soon find out that I will not tolerate that kind of thing!"
exclaimed Armstrong, as he insisted upon being called from that moment
out.
"Be easy with her. Don't show your hand or your temper until you get
hold of the money," warned Halloran. "Remember you are playing for a
great stake, and the surest way of winning is by keeping the girl in
love with you."
"She is mine now. I am her lord and master. I shall not bother making
love to the milk-and-water, sentimental creature, as the other one
probably did. She isn't my style, and I have little patience with her.
There was a decided feeling of antagonism between us from the start, and
then my forcing her to go through the ceremony at the point of a cold
steel weapon will not have the effect of endearing me to her ladyship.
She is sure to hate me, but that won't bother me a snap of my finger."
"Don't get independent too soon," remarked Halloran. "Pride always goeth
before a fall, you know. You haven't the money in your hands yet. Don't
lose sight of that important fact, my dear boy."
They talked on for half an hour or more; then suddenly the driver drew
rein.
"This is the country tavern, and my horses cannot go any further; they
are dead lame and played out," he announced.