death such a
costly mausoleum in
affected sorrow; others cleared
him from the imputation of
hypocrisy, and averred that the
monument had been constructed under the direction and at the sole
expense of Mr. Ratcliffe.
Before these
monuments the
wedding guests were assembled. They
were few in number; for many had left the castle to prepare for
the ensuing political
explosion, and Ellieslaw was, in the
circumstances of the case, far from being
desirous to extend
invitations farther than to those near relations whose presence
the custom of the country rendered
indispensable. Next to the
altar stood Sir Frederick Langley, dark, moody, and thoughtful,
even beyond his wont, and near him, Mareschal, who was to play
the part of bridesman, as it was called. The
thoughtless humour
of this young gentleman, on which he never deigned to place the
least
restraint, added to the cloud which overhung the brow of
the bridegroom
"The bride is not yet come out of her chamber," he
whispered to
Sir Frederick; "I trust that we must not have
recourse to the
violent expedients of the Romans which I read of at College. It
would be hard upon my pretty cousin to be run away with twice in
two days, though I know none better worth such a violent
compliment."
Sir Frederick attempted to turn a deaf ear to this discourse,
humming a tune, and looking another may, but Mareschal proceeded
in the same wild manner.
"This delay is hard upon Dr. Hobbler, who was disturbed to
accelerate preparations for this
joyful event when he had
successfully extracted the cork of his third bottle. I hope you
will keep him free of the
censure of his superiors, for I take it
this is beyond canonical hours.--But here come Ellieslaw and my
pretty cousin--prettier than ever, I think, were it not she seems
so faint and so
deadly pale--Hark ye, Sir Knight, if she says not
YES with right good-will, it shall be no
wedding, for all that
has come and gone yet."
"No
wedding, sir?" returned Sir Frederick, in a loud
whisper,
the tone of which indicated that his angry feelings were
suppressed with difficulty.
"No--no marriage," replied Mareschal, "there's my hand and glove
on't."
Sir Frederick Langley took his hand, and as he wrung it hard,
said in a lower
whisper, "Mareschal, you shall answer this," and
then flung his hand from him.
"That I will
readily do," said Mareschal, "for never word escaped
my lips that my hand was not ready to guarantee.- So, speak up,
my pretty cousin, and tell me if it be your free will and
unbiassed
resolution to accept of this
gallantknight for your
lord and husband; for if you have the tenth part of a scruple
upon the subject, fall back, fall edge, he shall not have you."
"Are you mad, Mr. Mareschal?" said Ellieslaw, who, having been
this young man's
guardian during his
minority, often employed a
tone of authority to him. "Do you suppose I would drag my
daughter to the foot of the altar, were it not her own choice?"
"Tut, Ellieslaw," retorted the young gentleman, "never tell me of
the
contrary; her eyes are full of tears, and her cheeks are
whiter than her white dress. I must insist, in the name of
common
humanity, that the
ceremony be adjourned till to-morrow."
"She shall tell you herself, thou incorrigible intermeddler in
what concerns thee not, that it is her wish the
ceremony should
go on--Is it not, Isabella, my dear?"
"It is," said Isabella, half fainting--"since there is no help,
either in God or man."
The first word alone was
distinctlyaudible. Mareschal shrugged
up his shoulders and stepped back. Ellieslaw led, or rather
supported, his daughter to the altar. Sir Frederick moved
forward and placed himself by her side. The
clergyman opened his
prayer-book, and looked to Mr. Vere for the signal to commence
the service.
"Proceed," said the latter.
But a voice, as if issuing from the tomb of his deceased wife,