CHAPTER VI.

I come not for your welcome, I expect none; I bring no joys to bless the bed withal, Nor songs, nor masques, to glorify the nuptials. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--_The Elder Brother_.

It was late in the afternoon when Colonel Falconer rode by the Traveller's Rest; and his disappearance, though accounted for in the apology he had commissioned his son to deliver, was considered the more remarkable, as within an hour's time the presence of the clergyman was expected, for whom captain Caliver and lieutenant Brooks, as two of the principal attendants on the bridegroom, had gone in great state. There were many conjectures secretly hazarded as to the true cause of the Colonel's desertion, when the delay of an hour might have enabled him to discharge his duties to his son and destined daughter; and had Captain Loring been favoured with any jealous kinsmen, alive to the honour of his family, or been himself of a suspicious and cavilling mood, it is quite possible a defection so extraordinary might have caused some unpleasant feelings, and even an interruption of the ceremonies in hand. But such was not the case, and the matter was left to be canvassed by the friends and connexions of the bridegroom alone; who, after satisfying themselves that the Colonel had been summoned away by no sudden messenger, and that, if a necessity had really existed for his departure, it must have existed long enough previously to allow him time to make his own explanations in person, agreed to attribute the proceeding to one of those fits of moody eccentricity, by which, it appeared, he was often affected.

By the time this subject of wonder was exhausted there arose another, which produced, in the end, still greater surprise and discussion than the other. This was the non-appearance of the clergyman at the appointed hour; and indeed the sun set, before any tidings were had either of him or of the officers, and then not until messengers had been sent off with led horses, on the vague presumption that some accident might have happened to the carriage on the way.

Another subject of discussion was the conduct of the youthful bride, who, although during the greater part of the day exhibiting uncommon spirits, and running over the grounds with other frolicsome maidens, herself the most frolicsome of all, yet displayed, on one or two occasions, a disposition to wander by herself, and even stray into the woods; and once, when she had strayed further than usual, and was pursued and arrested, she shed tears, though none could tell for what reason. As the time drew nigh when the clergyman was expected, she manifested a great unwillingness to be withdrawn by her bridemaids, according to custom, but insisted she would walk in the garden, and that so obstinately, that it required all the influence Miss Falconer had over her to induce her to retire to her chamber; and here she wept so bitterly as to amaze and even alarm her youthful attendants. Her parent, however, being summoned to the chamber, she embraced him, dried her eyes, smiled, laughed, suffered a garland of snowy rose-bays, the latest of the season, to be fastened in her hair, and, so long as he remained in her sight, betrayed no other symptom of distress or agitation; for which reason her late tears were remembered without surprise, as being natural to the occasion.

It was not until after nightfall that the clergyman made his appearance, with the officers. Accidents of a common nature, but unusual in number and fatality, had detained them on the way. First, they had broken down, before reaching the village, in consequence of the loss of a linchpin, or some other essential atom in the economy of the coach; then, after attempting to return, it was discovered that a horse had lost a shoe, and that some portion of the harness had given way. In short, their difficulties were of such a nature, that they were on the point of abandoning the carriage altogether, to seek some other conveyance among the neighbouring farms, when 'a very excellent, contriving blockhead,' as lieutenant Brooks called him, came to their assistance, and inspired them with new hopes of accomplishing their journey. This was no less a personage than honest Dancy, of the Traveller's Rest, who chanced to be returning from the village on foot, and was glad to offer his services, on condition of being allowed to ride home on the box with the venerable Richard. Nay, not content with again setting the vehicle in motion, he even volunteered, in the warmth of his gratitude, to divide with Richard the labour of driving,--a proposal highly acceptable to the latter, who had much of his master's affection for an afternoon nap, and could take it as well upon a coach box as in the chimney corner. The only ill consequence of this exchange was, that, before they had proceeded a mile further, the zealous Jehu interrupted an exceedingly interesting account captain Caliver was giving the clergyman of his midnight encounter with the Hawks of the Hollow, by suddenly overturning the coach into a gully, whence all thought themselves fortunate in escaping without broken bones. But now arose a greater difficulty, or rather a series of difficulties, than before; for, first, it was questionable whether their force was sufficient to raise the unlucky vehicle, or whether, being raised, it was in a condition to carry them further; and, secondly, the reverend functionary, frightened and resolved to trust his neck no longer to a structure so ill-fated, declared, that, whatever might be the event, he would enter it no more, but would rather finish the remaining four or five miles on foot. In a word, they were reduced to the necessity of applying at a neighbouring farm-house for assistance; and getting horses and saddles as they could, they continued, and at last concluded, the journey, but in such plight as caused no little surprise and merriment among the expectant guests.

In the meanwhile, the tedium that might have been produced by these unforeseen circumstances, was put to flight by the appearance and activity of the French dancing-master, who, although carried to the house only for a whim, was soon found to be the most efficient adversary of ennui that could have been found. He was no sooner in the house than he snuffed his way, with the unerring accuracy of a setter-dog, to the kitchen, where he fell upon the ruins of the dinner table with the zeal of the hungriest of that species; and then, having succeeded in first gaining possession of a flagon of wine, or some stronger liquor, he threw aside his cane, clapped his hat under his arm, and seizing upon his fiddle, bounded with a hop and a skip first into one apartment, then another, and finally into the porch, in all of which were gathered some of the guests, and in all, as he entered, drawing a savage note from his instrument, and exclaiming,--

"_Attendez_, jentlemans and leddees! now we s'all dance; ou-y for no we no dance? Now for de Contre-danse and de Menuet!--Each jentlemans and his leddee--Mon Dieu! de jentlemans and leddees will be very well content. _Attendez_; I am de _maître de bal_, and I know ou-at is de _matiéres de mode_, begar, ou-at you calls fashionable."

The appearance of the man was itself diverting, but was rendered still more so by his sudden assumption of the character and authority of master of ceremonies, to which he seemed to consider he had the best right in the world, and which he was, in the end, suffered to exercise, for no better reason than that there was no other person appointed to such an honour. He evidently held, that the chief ceremony and pleasure of a wedding lay in the practice of his own art; and he addressed himself to the task of marshalling and animating the dancers with such zeal and enthusiasm, that several forgot they were beginning the ball at the wrong end, seized upon partners as forgetful, or as waggish, as themselves, and set Monsieur Tiqueraque's heart in a blaze of rapture, by dancing outright. What was begun in jest, came at last to be practised in earnest; and when the clergyman with the military groomsmen rode up to the door, they had some reason to fear lest their ill fate had deprived them of the most impressive portion of the ceremony.

Their appearance was hailed with the greatest joy, and the more especially when they declared they had met Colonel Falconer, and received from him the same charges he had delivered to his son,--namely, that the rites and rejoicings should not be delayed on his account, even for a minute. They retired for a little space to refit their disordered attire, and a few moments afterwards reappeared, conducting, with the other attendants, the youthful pair whose destinies were now to be united. The bride was very pale, her eyes red with weeping, and her brows contracted into that expression of imploring distress so frequent on her countenance; her lips quivered incessantly; and ever and anon her frame was agitated by that shuddering sob which remains as the last convulsion of tears. Yet she walked into the room without faltering, and suffered herself to be placed beside the lover, and surrounded by the guests, without betraying any agitation sufficient to excite remark. All that was observed was, that she kept rolling her eyes about her a little wildly, as if in part bewildered by the sudden transition from her quiet chamber to an apartment full of lights and human beings. At last, her eyes fell upon the clergyman, and she surveyed him with a gaze so fixed, so peculiar, so strongly indicative, as he thought, of a troubled and unhappy spirit, that his own feelings became disturbed, and he began the rites with an agitated voice.

In the meanwhile, the wedding guests pressed closer around, and the domestics, thronging at the doors of the apartment, began to steal reverentially in; and among them, it was noticed that there were several strange faces not before observed. One of these, however, was recognised by Captain Loring as belonging to a young farmer residing near the valley, and he did not doubt that the other intruders were people of the same class, who had stolen softly into his house, attracted by the opportunity of witnessing a ceremony so much more splendid than any ever before seen in the neighbourhood of Hawk-Hollow. Such intrusions are indeed not unusual in certain sequestered parts of the country.

With her eyes still fastened upon the clergyman, Catherine listened to the words of the ceremony, until the usual demand was made, "Dost thou take this man to be thy husband?" She opened her lips to reply, but, though they moved as if in speech, and every sound was hushed as in the silence of death, not a word, not even the whisper of an accent, came from them. The demand was repeated, and with as little effect; she spoke not a word, but she rolled her eyes around the circle with double wildness; and Miss Falconer, throwing an arm around her waist, murmured, in hurried tones,

"She is ill--the ceremony cannot go on."

"Kate, my dear, adzooks!" cried Captain Loring, "what's the matter? Are you ill, my girl? What, can't you speak? can't you say _Yes_ to the parson? Ah, adzooks, that's a girl! that's my Kate Loring! You hear her, parson? She says, yes!"

"Patience, sir," said the clergyman, surveying the bride, who at the sound of her father's voice, seemed to recall her powers, and opened her lips, as if to speak. "Be not precipitate, young lady," he added, directing his discourse to Catherine, and speaking with a kindly voice: "this is a question too solemn to be answered lightly,--a profession embracing too much of the sacrament of an oath to be made except with deliberation. Take, therefore, your own time, and answer according to your heart and your reason----'Dost thou take this man to be thy husband?'"

The words of reply were almost upon Catherine's lip, when a whistle, sounding loudly from an open window, and startling the whole company, was echoed by a sudden cry from the room itself; and at the same moment, the bridemaids starting away in affright, a young man, pallid in visage, and roughly clad, rushed into the circle, and displayed to the eyes of the bride the features of the younger Gilbert. She uttered a scream, and to the confusion of every body present, flung herself immediately into his arms, crying with tones as wild and imploring as his own, "Oh, Herman, save me!" and fell into a swoon.

"Death and furies!" cried the bridegroom, recognising his rival at a glance, and springing at him like a tiger.

"Kill the villain!" exclaimed his sister, in a transport of indignation, endeavouring to tear her friend from the embraces of the intruder. But the efforts of the brother and sister were counteracted by a new and unexpected enemy. The French dancing-master, who, notwithstanding the violent enthusiasm with which he entered into his proper duties of fiddling and animating the guests, had yet wisdom enough to conduct himself with proper decorum, the moment his reverend colleague appeared, and had been for the last few moments entirely lost sight of, now darted with a hop and a pirouette to the bridegroom's side, and roaring with a voice loud enough to add to the terror, "_Sacre!_ ou-at! marry a leddie against her ou-ill!" he struck his violin over young Falconer's head with an energy of application that brought him to the floor, and dashed his instrument into a thousand pieces. "_Sacre!_" he continued, triumphantly--"I s'all help myself to the most beaut'ful leddee here!" And, as he spoke, he snatched up the astounded Harriet, and vanished from the apartment.

In the meanwhile, the outrage, of a character so extraordinary, had not been confined to the persons of the wedding pair and the bridegroom's sister. At the very moment when Hyland Gilbert darted into the circle, many of the guests, hearing the whistle that seemed to have conjured up the spectre, turned to the window, and beheld three or four savage-looking men spring through it into the room, while as many others, remaining in the open air, thrust long carbines and rifles among the guests, as if upon the point of firing on them. At the same time, others made their appearance at the door, armed in the same way; and, to crown all, the little six-pounder, which had remained in the Hollow ever since the eventful 4th of July, and stood upon the lawn near the house, charged by Captain Loring's own hand, and ready to be fired the moment the ceremony was over, was suddenly let off by some unknown hand, rattling the glass in the windows, and shaking the house to its foundation. These circumstances were enough to inspire all with dread; which was still further increased when the assailants, singling out the few military officers present, rushed upon them before they could betake themselves to their arms, and beat them all to the floor, with the exception of the captain of cavalry, who sprang from a window on the opposite side of the apartment, uttering a single ejaculation of surprise,--that is to say, 'By the eternal Jupiter!'--and was seen no more until the assault was over, and the actors in the outrage had vanished. The whole scene, though one of unexampled confusion and terror, was over in a few moments; and such was the panic, that scarce a being present remembered, or indeed conceived, the true nature, or had noted all the circumstances attending the assault. That wild men with arms in their hands, had been among them,--had struck down several persons present, then rushed over the whole house, as if in search of some object of prey whom they expected, but found not, among the guests below, and then had betaken themselves to flight, without doing further mischief--was all that was at first known; and it was not until a distant yell at the park-gate, followed by the faint sound of hoofs, proclaimed the departure of the enemy, that the gentlemen present were able to tear themselves from the grasp of the frighted women, and examine into the effects of such a visitation. It was soon found that the officers, who had endured the brunt of the attack, had owed this distinction less to the animosity than the fears of the assailants, who, seeming to apprehend resistance from no others, had made it a point to seize them, before adventuring upon the main objects of the outrage. They were but little hurt, the assailants having studiously avoided all bloodshed; and even the bridegroom, though stunned and a little disfigured by the blow so heartily bestowed upon him by Monsieur Tiqueraque, soon recovered his wits, and joined the rest in eager search after the bride. She had vanished, as well as his sister; and by and by, when the distraction caused by such a discovery, and the ravings and lamentations of Captain Loring, had a little subsided, it was found that the girl Phoebe had also disappeared.