Mischievous Maid Faynie | Page 9

her lips with his own Faynie had started back with a terrible feeling of faintness rushing over her. For the first time her lover's breath was strong with the odor of brandy.
And the voice, which was always so gentle, kind and endearing, was muttering something about "the cursed darkness of the night."
No wonder the girl's soul revolted, and that she changed her mind suddenly about the elopement, which was to make or mar her young life. And what she heard after he forced her into the coach only added to the terror which had grown into her heart against him, and when she made that flying leap from the coach, her one cry to Heaven was that she might escape the man whom she had but so lately madly adored, but whom she now so thoroughly abhorred.
CHAPTER V.
"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