The Mystery of the Locks

by E. W. Howe

"A careless hunter has allowed his gun to explode in the road," he said, when he returned after a long absence. But this explanation did not seem to satisfy even himself, for he soon went down to the lower end of the hall, and aroused Mrs. Wedge, by throwing the window-prop on the roof of her house. On the appearance of that worthy woman, who came in with her eyes almost closed from the sleepiness which still clung to her, but who opened them very wide at sight of Annie Benton, he said,—

"Will you two please talk about the weather, and nothing else, until I return? I will return in a few minutes, and make the necessary explanations. If there is anything wrong here, I will make it right."

He left the house hurriedly, and they heard the big iron gate in front bang after him, but when his footsteps could no longer be heard, and they no longer had excuse for listening to them, the two women sat in perfect silence. Occasionally Mrs. Wedge looked cautiously around at Annie Benton, but, meeting her eyes, they both looked away again, and tried to appear at their ease, which they found impossible. Fortunately Dorris was not gone long, and when he came back he put the girl's cloak on, as if they were going out.

"We will return in a little while," he explained to Mrs. Wedge, who looked up curiously as he walked out with Annie Benton on his arm. "If you care to wait, we will tell you a secret when we come back, as a reward for not speaking while I was out of the room."

Down the stairs they went, out at the front gate, and toward the town, until they reached the church door, which they entered. On the inside they found Reverend Wilton waiting for them at the chancel rail, and although he tried to appear very much put out because he was disturbed at that unseasonable hour, and yawned indifferently, he was really interested. Perhaps he was thinking of the rare story he would have to tell at breakfast.

Dorris had evidently given instructions as to what was expected of him, for as soon as they stood before him he read the marriage service, and pronounced them man and wife; after which he congratulated them and left the church, which was probably in accordance with his instructions, too.

A single light burned in the building, which barely extended to the vaulted ceiling, and which did not prevent the pews and the pulpit from looking like live objects surprised at being disturbed at such an hour; and leading his wife up to the organ, Dorris said: "We will have the wedding march, if you please," whereupon he disappeared behind the instrument to work the bellows.

And such a wedding march was never heard before. The girl put all the joy of her heart into melody, and made chords which caused Allan Dorris to regret that he could not leave the bellows and go round in front to wave his hat and cheer. He was seated on a box in the dusty little corner, working away industriously; and when he heard how eloquently the girl was telling the story of her love for him, tears of thankfulness came into his eyes and surprised them, for they had never been there before. Your cheek and mine have been wet with tears wrung from the heart by sorrow, but all of us have not been as happy as Allan Dorris was on his wedding night.

But there was more than joy in the music; it changed so suddenly into the plaintive strain of the minstrel baritone as to cause Allan Dorris to start. It may have been because the player was executing with the left hand, and without a light; but certainly it was difficult, like a life. But when the chords were formed, they were very sweet and tender, as we might say with a sigh that flowers on a weary man's grave were appropriate.

At last the music ceased, dying away like the memory of sobs and cheers and whispers, and taking his wife's arm through his own, Allan Dorris walked back to The Locks.