University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

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 bride-groom,
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 be
wildered 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 answered 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, thought 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.