The Argosy — page 330: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

316 Parkwater. “‘ By up train or down, sir ?”’ interrupted the man. “Down. And when he comes, drive him with all speed to the church, Be in waiting there directly you can get ready ; by half-past seven if possible. I think he will come by a special train.” The blacksmith looked up from his employment. “I can’t take the job, sir, if you want me to be there before the regular down train. I could be there for that, but not before. I have got a wedding this morning at eight o’clock.” ‘You must go to the station,” peremptorily spoke Mr. Castlerosse. “IT don’t care what I pay you.” “It is not a question of payment, sir,” civilly answered the man. “‘T have engaged myself to this lady and gentleman, and I would not do such a thing as go from my word. I take them to the church, wait for them, and take them from thence to the station, to catch the quarter to nine down train.” Mr. Castlerosse seemed beaten on all sides. He turned crustily from the unmanageable blacksmith ; went back to the station, and charged the porter to tell any gentleman who might arrive by a special train from London that he must make for the church without the loss of a moment. Then, bending his steps towards the churchyard, he paced about amongst the gravestones. In his state of excitement he could not sit still, or remain away from the chief scene of action. A little before eight the doors were opened; he entered the church and ensconced himself behind a pillar, where he could see and not be seen. There were no signs yet of Mr. Lyvett, but presently the wedding party came in. The bride was first, looking lovely ; that fact struck even the preju- diced mind of Mr. Castlerosse. Who on earth was conducting her? Mr. Castlerosse stared, rubbed his eyes, and stared again. To his horrible conviction, his unbounded indignation, it was his own favourite nephew! A medical student, graceless in the sight of the rest of the world, painstaking in that of Mr. Castlerosse, whom Ae had had thoughts of benevolently setting up in practice; the good-looking, careless, random Charley Castlerosse. Scarcely had the clergyman begun the service when Mr. Castlerosse glided forward. ‘‘I forbid the marriage,” he said. ‘“‘ I can show cause why it should not take place.” A shudder passed through the frame of Sophia May. She did not know who caused the interruption, or what plea was going to be urged. Her face assumed the paleness of the grave, and she bent it forward and hid it on the altar-rails. The bridegroom, however, turned round and confronted the intruder. Whilst Charley Castlerosse never turned at all, for he had recognised the voice, and hoped to escape unseen, only wishing there was an open grave at hand that he might drop into it. COLMA a) (CO) NOOKS