THE LITTLE JOKER
"What are these?" demanded the reverend gentleman, unfolding the
parchment.
"Oh, it's only my little joker, that took his right bower and won the
trick," laughed the woman.
"I don't understand," said the rector, while Abel Force, Thomas Grandiere
and William Elk drew near and looked over his shoulders at the document.
"Well, read it, and then maybe you will understand. Don't you see it is
the marriage certificate?" demanded the woman.
"It is, indeed," said the rector, examining the document. "It is, indeed,
a certificate of the marriage of Angus Anglesea, colonel in the Honorable
East India service, Anglewood Manor, Lancashire, England, and Ann Maria
Wright, widow, of Wild Cats' Gulch, California, signed by the officiating
minister, Paul Minitree, pastor of St. Sebastian's Parish, Sebastian,
California, and witnessed by Henry Powers, Margaret Rayburn and Philomena
Schubert! It is dated August 1, 18--. Col. Anglesea, what explanation can
you give of this?" sternly demanded the rector, while the severe faces of
the other men emphasized the question.
"Why, he can't give any! The joker takes every trick! It's the highest
card in the pack, and I have just played it!"
"The thing is a forgery! I never was in California in my life! And I never
set eyes on this woman before this hour! It is a forgery, I say!"
exclaimed the colonel, so positively, so confidently, so authoritatively
that the men were once more puzzled.
"Oh, it's a misdeal, then, is it? I'll prove that it isn't!" said the
stranger. "Now, then, gentlemen, you can test the truth for yourselves.
Money is no object to you, particularly in such a case as this. You can
telegraph to the Rev. Father Paul Minitree, and ask him if this marriage
certificate is genuine, and you can telegraph every word of the
certificate, word for word. Ask him to compare it with the entry in the
parish register of August 1, 18--, and to telegraph the answer, at your
expense, mind you; and, though it will be expensive, it will be worth the
money, and you won't mind the cost," said the woman.
This settled the question.
Abel Force, the man most deeply concerned of any man present, had made no
violent demonstration. He had controlled his just wrath all through the
scene. His reverence for the sanctuary had aided his habitual
self-government in this ordeal.
Now, turning his back on Col. Anglesea, he said to Leonidas, who had been
a silent spectator of the drama enacting around him:
"Go, my dear boy, and order the carriages. I shall take my wife and
daughters home."
Le nodded, and went elbowing his way through the crowd--that made room for
him--to do his errand.
"Col. Anglesea, we will hereafter be compelled to dispense with your
society at Mondreer. Your effects shall be sent to the Calvert Hotel,
subject to your orders," he said, turning for a moment to his late guest.
"Sir, you abduct my wife by violence! You do it at your own peril!"
exclaimed the braggart.
The Maryland gentleman bowed gravely, but deigned no reply in words.
"Madam," he said, turning to the stranger, "if you will accept a seat in
our carriage, and give us the privilege of your company at our house, Mrs.
Force and myself would like to talk further with you on this subject."
"Oh, yes, thanky'! That I will! For I have got lots and loads to tell you
about that grand vilyun! You needn't think I came here to stop the
marriage because I cared for him! Not I! I'm that sick of the beast that
the very sight of him is tartar emetic! What i' the name o' sense ever
come over a purty gal like your daughter to take up with a man like him?
And a man older and uglier than her own father? Good land! I didn't mean
to say that! I beg your pardon, sir; I didn't indeed! I meant to say a man
not nearly so young and handsome as her own father! That was it!"
exclaimed the stranger.
Mr. Force bowed his acknowledgment of her apology, and then led her up to
the pew occupied by his wife and daughters, and introduced her as
follows:
"Mrs. Col. Angus Anglesea, my dear. Mrs. Anglesea, my wife, Mrs. Force;
our eldest daughter, Miss Force; our younger daughters, Misses Wynnette
and Elva; our friend, Miss Meeke."
When rather embarrassed bows and courtesies were exchanged, Mr. Force
added:
"Mrs. Anglesea has been so kind as to accept an invitation to return home
with us."
"Yes," put in the lady referred to. "Yes, your old man asked me, and I
accepted, because I have got such loads and loads and loads to tell you
about that grand vilyun. Didn't he come nigh doing for that lamb? Never
mind, honey"--this to the half-conscious Odalite--"I know it seems hard
for you, 'specially if you was fond of him--though why you should 'a'
been--Lord! Anyhow, bad as it is now, it would 'a' been a heap worse if
he'd 'a' married you and then you'd found out as he had another wife
a-living."
Odalite took no notice of this speech. Wynnette answered:
"Oh, you needn't fret your nerves to fiddle strings about that--I mean you
need not distress yourself, ma'am. She hates him, and so do I. And so does
Elva. In spite of prayer book and catechism, we hate him. We can't help
it."
"Eh? What's that you say?" inquired Mrs. Anglesea. "You hate him? Then
why, in the name o' common sense, did she want to marry, and you all let
her, for?"
"It was Old Scratch's doings--I mean it was Satanic agency," Wynnette
explained.
At this moment Leonidas Force came up, and said to his cousin:
"The carriages are ready sir. I spoke to the rector, sir, and, with his
leave, had them brought around to the vestry door, so that you can all go
out that way, and avoid the crowd."
"Thank you, Le. Dear, kind fellow! It was very good and thoughtful of you.
Come, love. Come, children. Le, give your arm to this lady. Mrs. Anglesea,
let me introduce my relative, Mr. Leonidas Force."
"Oh, Lord! I know the fellow. Knew him before I knew you," said the woman,
very unceremoniously appropriating Le's arm.
Mr. and Mrs. Force led the way, supporting their drooping daughter between
them.
Le followed with the California lady.
And Miss Meeke and the two little girls brought up the rear.
They passed through the chancel into the vestry, where they found the
rector had preceded them, to wait and offer such sympathetic condolence as
he might.
"What do you think of this baseness, reverend sir?" inquired Mr. Force.
"It may be premature to judge before all the evidence is in, but it seems
as if your late guest is an impostor, if not a criminal."
"I feel sure that there can be no doubt upon that subject."
"If I can be of any service, pray command me at any time," said the
rector.
"I thank you very much. I think I will have to trouble you with two
commissions. First, to tell our friends in there that, under existing
circumstances, there can be no reception at our house to-day."
"I will do so."
"And, also, I must ask you to telegraph to St. Sebastian, as the woman
advised, for further proof of her claim. Here is my pocketbook. Don't
spare it in the cause. Could you spare an hour or two to come up to my
house to-morrow?" inquired Mr. Force.
"I will take the time, and make it a point to be there."
"Come to dinner, if you please, sir. You know our hour," said Mrs. Force.
"Thank you, madam," replied the minister, without further committing
himself.
Then the party took leave of their pastor, and went out by the back door
to enter their carriage.
Abel Force handed his wife, his eldest daughter and their guest into the
first carriage, which he entered after them, the party of four filling the
interior.
Le handed Miss Meeke and his two young cousins into the second carriage,
and followed them.
And the little procession left the churchyard, and took their way through
the grove to the turnpike road leading to Mondreer.
Meanwhile, the whole congregation of wedding guests lingered in the
church, and gathered into groups to talk over the strange events that had
just happened before their eyes.
They were not disappointed, those wedding guests. Far from that. They had
got so much more than they expected! They had not only seen the bride, the
bridegroom, the bridesmaids, the bride's mother, and all their dresses,
which had been made in New York, after the latest fashion; they had not
only seen the whole marriage ceremony performed, and noted the demeanor of
every one concerned in it, from the rector who read the rites to the
smallest bridesmaid who held the glove; they had not only seen all these
pageantries which they had expected to see, but they had seen a great deal
more than they had bargained for. They had witnessed the performance of a
startling drama in real life--the arrest of a marriage by the sudden
appearance of the would-be bridegroom's wife.
Now, they had got a great deal more than they had looked for, besides
having something to talk about all the rest of their lives.
They could not leave the church, though the dinner hour was at hand, and
most of them had far to go to reach their own homes.
They collected in little crowds to discuss the interruption.
"Who was the woman, did anybody know? When did she come to the
neighborhood? Had any one seen or heard of her before to-day?"
Such questions as these went around.
At last some one said that the stranger had been staying at Miss Sibby
Bayard's for the last week.
And immediately Miss Sibby Bayard became the center of attraction and the
most important person in the assembly.
The people crowded around her, plied her with a score of questions before
she could answer one.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, at last, impatiently. "Yes! She has been staying at
my house for five days past. She came from Califoundery, passenger in the
ship where Roland was third mate. Yes! The boy fetched her to me, 'cause
she had business in this neighborhood."
"Did you know the nature of her business?" asked the fiery, red-headed,
hot-tempered, little William Elk.
"Never dreamed of her doing this here. Thought she was a widdy woman.
Thought her business was money. Why, I fetched her to church this morning
myself, without a notion that she wanted to come here for anything but
just to see the wedding. And she was awful anxious to get here before the
ceremony was begun."
"It is a great pity that you did not arrive before it was finished," said
the tall, dark, gloomy Thomas Grandiere.
"So it were. I can't gainsay that. And so we should 'a' been here if it
hadn't been for the stubborn nater of that mule o' mine; for, you see, I
had no other conveyance, and had to drive my wisitor here in the cart.
And, if ever Old Scratch got into a brute beast, he got into that mule
this morning. Couldn't get him out of a creep to save my life! And he
balked so, coming up Indian Creek Hill, that I thought he would have upset
us into the water--and it froze over! So we didn't get here till after the
ceremony was over. There, that is all I know about it! Miss Hedge and Miss
Sukey Grandiere spent an afternoon and took tea at my house, along with
her, and maybe they can tell you something," said the old lady.
And immediately she was deserted in favor of the sisters, who became, in
their turn, the center of interest.
But these ladies had really very little to communicate.
Then the curiosity of the crowd took another direction.
"We were all invited to the wedding reception, but, of course, we are not
expected to go now," said Mrs. Hedge.
"But it might seem like an offense if we didn't," suggested Miss
Grandiere.
And people were divided on the subject until the rector appeared,
requested a hearing, and, with the apologies and regrets of Mr. and Mrs.
Force, announced that there could be no reception held at Mondreer that
day.
So, at length, the congregation reluctantly separated and went home.