“I will, mother,” he exclaimed, proudly; and he glanced round the church, to see it crowded, even the aisles being densely packed, a low, murmuring buzz arising, which was checked, though, as the vicar, in his white surplice, moved from behind the great tomb, looking white almost as the linen he wore, and took his place inside the low wooden altar rails, which Jacky Budd bustled officiously to close, giving his lips a smack as if he scented the feasting that generally followed this operation, and hastened to replace the hassocks in front of the little gates.
Eve’s eyes rested upon the vicar’s for a moment as she was led by some one, she could not tell whom, and told to stand in a particular position: there was a strange whirring sound in her head, and the place was alternately swimming round her, and then coming to a dead stand, and beginning to recede, till the whole of the chancel seemed to be reproduced with photographic minuteness far away, as if seen through the wrong end of a telescope.
Then the mutterings of the crowd in the church reached her; Mrs Glaire whispered, “Be strong for my sake,” and Richard Glaire, dimly seen, stood beside her; and before her, calm and motionless, divided from her by the quaint old wooden barrier, soon to be divided from her by bars that were a thousand times as strong, stood the man that she knew and owned now, with a kind of desperation, that she loved.
It was a blasphemy, she told herself, to stand there as she did, ready to lie before her Maker; but as she mentally said this she prayed that her sin might be forgiven, and her act looked upon as a sacrifice to save her who had been to her as a mother, and Richard Glaire from a downward career; and as this prayer was repeated she heard the deep, sad voice of the vicar speaking.
The words came slowly, and the utterance grew deeper as, hardly able to bear the bitter agony he experienced, Murray Selwood addressed the first solemn words of the service to those before him, going on to “I require and charge you both,” while the silence in the church was almost painful.
Then turning to Richard, and with his voice rising, he asked the question—
“Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, (a pause) comfort her, (another pause) honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, (a long and painful pause, during which Richard Glaire winced as he tried to meet the questioning eyes fixed on his, and failed) so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” answered Richard, once more trying to meet the eyes that were fixed upon him in solemn question, and failing miserably.
Those who watched the service from close by, remembered afterwards that the vicar’s voice became low and trembling as, turning to Eve, he asked her—
“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him so long as ye both shall live?”