Near him was the grand and martial figure of the veteran soldier, General Lyon.
At a respectful distance stood a group of the old family servants.
The bridal party come on and formed before the minister—Alexander and Drusilla stood together in the center; on Alexander’s right stood Richard, on Drusilla’s left stood Anna.
All were reverently silent.
At a signal from General Lyon; Richard Hammond put the envelope supposed to contain the license and the fee into the hands of the minister, who merely, as a matter of form, glanced over it and then opened his book and began the sacred rite by reading the solemn exhortation with which they commence.
The old, loving servants, who had hitherto kept at a reverential distance from their masters, now drew as near the scene of action as they dared do, so that they might hear every syllable of the ceremony that was to unite, as they supposed, their young mistress to the husband of her choice.
When the minister, in the course of his reading, came to these awful words—awful at least, to one of the contracting parties, he delivered them with great effect.
“‘If any man can show just cause, why these may not be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.’”
The minister made the usual formal pause, for the answer that might often come, but never does; and then, with the most solemn emphasis, he addressed the pair before him:
“‘I require and charge you, BOTH, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that if any persons are joined together, otherwise than God’s Word doth allow, their marriage is not lawful.’”