Mischievous Maid Faynie Part 4

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 fict.i.tious. Then he blamed himself roundly for his momentary suspicion, and went on hurriedly with the ceremony.

The man answered in a low, guarded voice. There was a tone in it which somehow jarred on the good minister's sensitive nerves. The girl's voice was pitifully fluttering, almost hysterical.

But that was not an uncommon occurrence. Few brides are calm and self-possessed.

"You will please lift your veil for the final benediction," said the aged pastor, pausing, book in hand, and gazing at the slim, silent, dark-robed figure, who had made her responses faintly, gaspingly, almost inaudibly. Again it was the stranger to the left who complied with his request, but for one instant both the clergyman and the old s.e.xton caught sight of a face white as death, yet beautiful as an angel's, framed in a ma.s.s of dead-gold hair; but the flickering of the lamps caused strange shadows to flit over it. There was a moment of utter silence, broken only by the howling of the wind outside.

Then slowly the minister's voice broke the terrible silence by uttering the words: "Then I p.r.o.nounce you man and wife, and whom G.o.d hath joined together let no man put asunder."

As the last word echoed through the dim old church the cold steel of a revolver, which had been pressed steadily to the girl's throbbing heart by the hand of the bridegroom, concealed by her long cloak, was quickly withdrawn.

"My wedded wife!" murmured the man, and in his voice there was a tone of mocking triumph. The girl swooned in his arms, but, turning quickly with her, he hurried forward into the dense shadows of the church, carrying her to the coach in waiting without attracting attention.

He could scarcely restrain himself from shouting aloud, so exuberant were his spirits.

"Rave. Do whatever you like. You cannot change matters now. I am your husband, ay, the husband of a girl worth a million of money. When we are out of hearing of the old parson I will give three rousing cheers to celebrate the occasion and give vent to my triumph--ay, three cheers and a tiger with a will and a vengeance."

The appearance of his friend, who had remained behind to adjust the little matters that needed attention, put a stop to his hilarity for the moment.

"Well, what's next on the programme? What do you suggest now, Halloran?"

he exclaimed, as that individual sprang into the coach and took his seat with chattering teeth.

"I propose that you drive to the nearest inn or hostelry, or whatever they choose to call it hereabouts. I understand there is one some five miles from here, and, indeed, the horses won't last much longer than that."

"I'm governed by your advice," replied his companion, with a hilarious laugh. "Give the order to get to the hostelry as soon as the driver can make it. Anything will suit me. I'm not proud, even if I have made a cool million in an hour's time. Ha! ha! ha!"

"Are you mad?" whispered his companion, giving him a violent nudge.

"Bah! You needn't fear that she will hear what I'm saying. The puny little dear has swooned again. Didn't you notice that I had to fairly carry her from the altar?"

"These dainty little heiresses have to be handled with kid gloves,"

remarked Halloran. "Fainting when anything goes wrong seems to be their especial weakness."

"She will soon find out that I will not tolerate that kind of thing!"

exclaimed Armstrong, as he insisted upon being called from that moment out.

"Be easy with her. Don't show your hand or your temper until you get hold of the money," warned Halloran. "Remember you are playing for a great stake, and the surest way of winning is by keeping the girl in love with you."

"She is mine now. I am her lord and master. I shall not bother making love to the milk-and-water, sentimental creature, as the other one probably did. She isn't my style, and I have little patience with her.

There was a decided feeling of antagonism between us from the start, and then my forcing her to go through the ceremony at the point of a cold steel weapon will not have the effect of endearing me to her ladys.h.i.+p.

She is sure to hate me, but that won't bother me a snap of my finger."

"Don't get independent too soon," remarked Halloran. "Pride always goeth before a fall, you know. You haven't the money in your hands yet. Don't lose sight of that important fact, my dear boy."

They talked on for half an hour or more; then suddenly the driver drew rein.

"This is the country tavern, and my horses cannot go any further; they are dead lame and played out," he announced.

CHAPTER VI.

THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIM.

It was certainly something entirely out of the experience of the old innkeeper at the country crossroads to be aroused from his slumbers at midnight by guests seeking the shelter of his hospitable roof, and that, too, on the most terrible night of the year.

The old man could scarcely believe his ears when he heard the sound of the old bra.s.s knocker on the front door resound loudly through the house.

He quite imagined that he must have dreamed it, until a second and third peal brought him to his senses and his feet at the same instant.

His bewilderment knew no bounds when he appeared at the door a few minutes later and found a coach standing there and the occupants seeking a lodging, also shelter for the horses.

"I haven't but one room to spare," exclaimed the old innkeeper, holding a flaring candle high above his head to better view his visitor.

"Have you a room in which a fire could be made?" asked one of the men.

"We have a lady with us."

"I suppose we could let you have my daughter Betsy's, she being off to the city on a visit."

"My companion and his br--his wife could have that; you can dispose of me anywhere," returned the speaker. "I could doze in a chair in the barroom for that matter. The driver could be as easily disposed of."

"Then bring the lady right in," said the old innkeeper. A moment later, the lovely girl, still unconscious, was brought in and laid upon the settee in the best room.

"What is the matter with the young woman?" gasped the innkeeper, his eyes opening wide with amazement.

"Merely fainted from the intense cold," returned one of the men briefly, adding: "If you will see that a fire is lighted in the room that you spoke of I shall be very much obliged."

"I'll have my wife down in a jiffy. No doubt the poor creature's half frozen, but a hot whiskey toddy will thaw her out quicker than you could say Jack Robinson," and he trotted off briskly on his double mission of rousing his wife to look after the girl and his hired help to a.s.sist the driver in putting away the horses, while he himself attended to making a blazing fire in the little chamber over the best room.

In less time than it takes to tell it the good housewife was by the girl's side.

"What a beautiful young creature!" she exclaimed, as the veil was thrown back and she beheld the lovely face, white as chiseled marble, framed in its cloud of golden hair. "Is it your sister, sir?" she asked, with all a country woman's thoughtless curiosity.

"No, she is my wife," exclaimed the stranger, who stood over by the fireplace, his brows meeting in a decided frown.

"Laws a mercy! Isn't she young to be married?" exclaimed the woman.

"Why, she don't look sixteen. Been married long?"

The stranger by the fireplace deliberately turned his back on the woman, vouchsafing her no reply.

By that time the innkeeper announced that the room above was ready, and that they might come up as soon as they liked.

Again the stranger by the fireplace lifted the slender figure, bore her up the narrow rickety stairway, saying good-night to his friend as he pa.s.sed him by.

"Good-night to you, and pleasant dreams," replied Halloran; "the same to your wife."