THE CEREMONY DEFEATED.
I was flitting about, making myself generally useful, and so disguised that Le Roy had no notion who I was. The time appointed for the ceremony drew on. Poor Mrs. S. was in a flutter. Le Roy tried to sooth her, took her aside and talked to her a little; put her arm in his; looked very proud, but a little provoked, as if he feared that at last she'd fail him—faint away, perhaps. The hour came, the attendants began to draw into order, and the minister, too, put on his gravity, asking that the parties to be married take their place, and Le Roy stepped forth to lead up Mrs. S., who sat at the end of the long parlors. Full of pride was he, suddenly to be humbled. As he approached her, I cast a glance at puzzled Mrs. Stevens, tripped to a side window, gave the appointed signal, and the door-bell rang with great fury, as I had ordered. All the people present were startled, and on the qui vive to know what such a call could mean.
"A fire somewhere!" "Is this house on fire?" "O, dear! What can it mean?" was ejaculated, etc., etc.
Meanwhile the servant had rushed and opened the door.
"Does Mr. —— live here?" asked the officers.
"Yes."
"Is he in?"
"Yes."
"We wish to see him."