Witness to the Deed Part 6

"What shall I do?" he thought. "No time to go anywhere else; I'll drop in and hang about in the church as if I did not belong to the party."

Easier said than done. Already there was a little crowd collecting, attracted by the carpet laid up the steps--a little gathering of the people who always do attend weddings--those who wait till the bride arrives and then hurry in to see the service, and those who, being in charge of perambulators, keep entirely outside and block up pavement and porch. Then, too, there were the customary maiden ladies, the officials of the church, the bell ringers, the woman from the crossing at the corner of the square in a clean ap.r.o.n, the butchers', bakers', and fishmongers' boys, and the children--especially those in a top-heavy condition from carrying other children, nearly as big as themselves.

Percy Guest was conscious of a whisper and a buzzing sound as he walked through the gates in what he intended to be a nonchalant fashion, but which proved to be very conscious, and then most conscious as a boy cried:

"'Ere he is, Bill!"

Fortunately the church door was close at hand, but before he entered he was aware that the turnc.o.c.k had joined the throng with three bright instruments over his shoulder, as if his services were likely to be wanted toward the end.

Percy Guest breathed more freely as he stepped into the gloom of the silent church, but was again disconcerted by the beadle in his best gold-braided coat, holding open a green baize door and two pew openers stepping forward apparently bent upon showing him the way up to the chancel.

"Thanks: I'll just look round," he said carelessly; but the words did not convey his meaning, and as he walked slowly into one of the side aisles to study tablets and monuments, he could not read a word for thinking that the two pew openers had seen through him.

"What a fool I am!" he muttered. "Of course they know. Even smell me.

Wish I hadn't used that scent."

An archaeologist could not have taken more apparent interest than he in that tablet covered with lines of all lengths, setting forth the good qualities of Robert Smith, "late of this parish," but the study was accompanied by furtive glances at a watch during the longest quarter of an hour the young man ever remembered to have spent.

But it ended at last.

"He'll soon be here now," he said to himself as, carrying his new hat behind him, he made for another tablet nearer the chancel, while divers whispers behind him told of pews being filled by those who wished to have good places, and so another five minutes pa.s.sed.

"Time he was here," thought the early arrival; and summoning his fort.i.tude ready for being stared at and commented upon, he walked quietly toward the chancel, faced round, and waited, staring blankly at the three or four score of faces watching him eagerly.

"Pleasant!" he said to himself. "Must be some of the friends here, but how confoundedly awkward I do feel. I hate these quiet weddings.

Company's good, even if you're going to be hanged. Why isn't Stratton here?"

There were fresh arrivals every minute, and Guest gazed anxiously now toward the door, but the arrivals were all female; and save that the clerk or verger was arranging cushions and books up by the communion table, he was alone, and the centre upon which all eyes were fixed.

"I've done wrong," muttered Guest as he mastered a strong desire to look at his watch, which he knew must now be within five minutes of the time.

"I ought to have gone back and brought him on. It's too bad to leave me here like this."

If he could have taken out his handkerchief to have wiped the gathering drops away from his temples he would not have cared so much, for they produced a terrible itching sensation. But no; he must seem cool and collected.

He was conscious now of talking somewhere behind him, in the vestry evidently, a deep utterance suggestive of intoning a service, and a harsh, sharp voice.

The clergyman and just then the clerk came down, pa.s.sed close by, looked at him, went and opened a pew door, and returned to approach him again with a deprecative cough, as if he were about to speak, but he pa.s.sed on again, and went back into the vestry.

"Took me for the bridegroom," muttered Guest to himself. "Stratton, you scoundrel, why don't you come? Oh! I'll pay you out for this."

At last! For a figure appeared at the other end of the church. No; it turned into a pew half-way down the centre aisle, and Guest became cold with apprehension as the organ began to peal forth its softest notes to a hushed, shuddering ba.s.s, while Guest looked wildly down the church, where, to his horror, there stood a figure in company with a tall, sedate, grey-haired lady dressed in grey; and as these figures approached he for a few moments forgot his agony in a long, rapt contemplation of the bridesmaid's face.

Then he could bear it no longer, and he was about to rush out and go in search of Stratton when he felt that it was too late, for already the admiral was at the door with the bride, and Edie and Miss Jerrold were at his side.

He gave Edie one quick glance full of agony, and then in a hurried whisper to the admiral's sister:

"Miss Jerrold, for goodness' sake ask Sir Mark to step into the vestry.

Stratton has not come."

Too late--too late! The organ was still giving forth its introductory strain; the two clergymen moved out of the vestry, and took their places; Sir Mark and Myra were close up, and the clerk came forward and signed to Guest to stand in the bridegroom's place.

Before he could think, the admiral's lips were close to his ear, and the sharp whisper thrilled him as if it had been a roar.

"Where's Stratton?"

"I--he was to meet me--I--I'll go and see."

The words were stammered forth in a whisper, and no one better than he felt how tame and paltry they sounded, while as, hat in hand, he hurried down the aisle, running the gauntlet of a couple of hundred eyes, it seemed as if they stung him, that the looks were more mocking than wondering, while, raging with annoyance, the few yards felt lengthened out into a mile.

Through the baize doors, and under the portico, but no sign of the brougham with the pair of greys that was to bring the bridegroom.

What to do; jump into a hansom and bid the man gallop to Benchers' Inn?

It would take best part of an hour, and Stratton must be there directly.

He would wait and see, even if everyone in the crowd was staring at him wonderingly, while the cold sweat stood out in big drops upon his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" said a stern voice at his elbow, and Guest turned to face the admiral, whose florid countenance was mottled with white.

A few words of explanation followed and then:

"I'll take a hansom and gallop off to his chambers."

"No," said Sir Mark in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice. "An insult to my child! It is atrocious!"

The old man turned and strode back, while, hardly knowing what he did, Guest followed him between the two rows of curious faces to where Myra stood, perfectly firm and self-contained, while Edie was trembling visibly, and clinging to Miss Jerrold's arm.

As Sir Mark reached his daughter there was a loud whispering in the church, which was suppressed by several hushes! as one of the clergymen approached the wedding party, all present being eager to catch his words as the _contretemps_ was now grasped.

"Will you step into the vestry for a few minutes? Some trifling mishap, perhaps--to the carriage or one of the horses. Perhaps an error about the time."

"No, no," said the admiral sternly. "We will wait here, sir. No; Myra, take my arm; you shall not submit to this."

She was deadly pale, but she made no movement to obey.

"Not yet," she said in a low voice. "We must wait."

"It is impossible, I tell you!" cried the admiral loudly, for his rage and mortification would have their way. "My dear girl! Hold up your head; the shame is not yours. Guest, take my sister and niece to the other carriage." Then, s.n.a.t.c.hing Myra's hand, he led her back to the door, his grey beard and moustache seeming to bristle as his eyes flashed rage and defiance from side to side, till they reached the portico, where a man stepped forward.

"The bells, sir?" he whispered deferentially; "the ringers are all here?"

That was the last straw--a brazen one.

With an angry snort the admiral caught the man by the shoulder and swung him out of the way, signalling directly after for his carriage, which, as the coachman and footman had not expected to be wanted for some time yet, stood right away, with the servants chatting by the horses' heads.

Not above a minute before the carriage was drawn up, but it was like an age to those who listened to the whispering and giggling going on.

For the words "No bridegroom!" had reached the little crowd outside as soon as the retiring wedding party; and as Guest heard a remark or two made, there was a singing in his ears, and an insane desire to rush at some staring idiot and thrash him within an inch of his life.

But he glanced at Myra as he pressed Edie's hand against his side, and saw that the bride's head was erect and that she stepped proudly into the carriage. Then the admiral took his seat by her side and said firmly: