WITH THIS RING
It was the Sabbath, and the summer sun was casting its southering light
even with the eaves of Sim Gage's half-ruined house. It was high noon.
High noon for a wedding. But this was a wedding of no pomp or
splendor. No bell summoned any hither. There was no organ peal, nor
maids with flowers and serious faces to wait upon the bride; no
processional; no aisles fenced off with bride's ribbon; no audience to
crane. In the little room stood only a surpliced priest of the Church
of England. The witnesses were Nels Jensen and Karen, his wife, back
of whom was Wid Gardner, near to him Doctor Barnes. Those made all
present, now at high noon. And Sim Gage, trembling very much, stood at
the side of a bed where Mary Warren lay propped up in the blankets to
speak her wedding words.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together," began the holy man; and so
the ceremony went on in the lofty words which some inspired man has
written for the most solemn of all ceremonies.
"Dearly beloved . . . Dearly beloved!
"Who giveth this woman in marriage?" went on the deep voice of the
minister at last, himself strangely moved. Indeed, it had only been
after a long consultation with Doctor Barnes that he had been willing
to go on with this ceremony. "Who giveth this woman in marriage?"
Sim Gage had no idea of the marriage ceremony of the Church of England
or of any other church. As for Doctor Barnes, the matter had been too
serious for him to plan details. But now, seeing the exigency, he
stepped forward quickly and offered himself as the next friend of Mary
Warren, orphaned and friendless.
The ceremony went on until it came to that portion having to do with
the ring--for this was Church of England, and full ceremony was used.
"With what token?" began the voice of the man of God. Sim Gage's eyes
were raised in sudden question. Neither he nor Doctor Barnes, quasi
best man, had ever given thought to this matter of the ring. But again
Doctor Barnes was able to serve. Quickly he slipped off the seal ring
from his own finger and passed it to Sim Gage. The gentle hand of the
churchly official showed him how to place it upon the finger of Mary
Warren, who raised her own hand in his.
So finally it was over, and those solemn ofttimes mocking words were
said: "Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder!" And then
the surpliced minister of the church prayed God to witness and to bless
this wedding of this man and this woman; that prayer which sometimes is
a mockery before God.
There was at least one woman to weep, and Karen Jensen wept. She left
the place and ran out the door into the open sunlight, followed soon by
her husband and Wid Gardner.
Sim stood for a moment undecided. He did not stoop even now to greet
his wife with that salutation usual at this moment. The group at the
bedside broke apart. The bride, white as a ghost, dropped back on her
blankets. It was a godsend that at this instant Tim, the little dog,
broke in the door, barking and overjoyed, welcoming the company, and
making a diversion, which saved the moment.
Sim bent and picked up the little animal.
"He's glad," said he. With a vague and gentle pat of the blankets in
the general direction of Mary Gage, his wife, he turned, head bent, and
tip-toed out into the sunlight.
Karen Jensen interrupted any conversation, having dried her tears.
"Come on back in five or ten minutes," she said. "I'll have the
wedding breakfast ready. I've baked a cake."
When they had eaten of the cake, which they all agreed was marvelous,
the minister gladly repacked his vestments in his traveling bag
preparatory to his journey back with Doctor Barnes. He turned, after a
gentle handshake, saying: "Good-by, Mrs. Gage." Sim Gage, bridegroom,
suddenly flushed dark under his brick-red skin at hearing these words.
Karen Jensen finished her labors attendant upon the wedding breakfast,
and made ready for her own departure. Wid Gardner likewise found
reason for a visit to his own homestead. Mary Gage was left alone, and
ah! how white a bride she was.
Sim Gage stood outside his own door, looking at the departing figures
of Nels and Karen Jensen crossing the meadow toward their home; turning
to catch sight of Wid, though the latter was no longer visible. In
desperation he looked upon a sky, a landscape, which for the first time
in all his life seemed to him ominous. For the first time in his life
Sim Gage, sagebrusher, man of the outlands, felt himself alone.