“Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere, attending to everything, and he slipped up to the unwilling bridegroom just as he was having to answer a very difficult question about the lateness of his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experienced in crossing. By this time Gordon had discovered that he was supposed to have been ten years abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but where he came from or what he had been doing over there were still to be found out; and it was extremely puzzling to be asked from what port he had sailed, and how he came to be there when he had been supposed to have been in St. Petersburg but the week before? His state of mind was anything but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just reflecting that the last he had seen of his hat and coat was in the church. What had become of them, and how could he go to the station without a hat? Then opportunely “Jeff” arrived.
“Your train leaves at ten three,” he said in a low, business-like tone, as if he enjoyed the importance of having made all the arrangements. “I’ve secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and here are the tickets and checks. The trunks are down there all checked. Celia didn’t want any nonsense about their being tied up with white ribbon. She hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip out by the fire-escape and down through the back yard of the next neighbor, where a motor, just a plain regular one from the station, will be waiting around the corner in the shadow. Celia knows where it is. None of the party will know you are gone until you are well under way. The car they think you will take is being elaborately adorned with white at the front door now, but you won’t have any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up. Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as soon as Celia’s ready I’ll show you the way.”
Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else to do, but his countenance grew blank. Was there, then, to be no escape? Must he actually take another man’s bride with him in order to get away? And how was he to get away from her? Where was the real bridegroom and why did he not appear upon the scene? And yet what complications that might bring up. He began to look wildly about for a chance to flee at once, for how could he possibly run away with a bride on his hands? If only some one were going with them to the station he could slip away with a clear conscience, leaving her in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and distressed was out of the question. He had rid himself of a lonely dog and a suffering child, though it gave him anguish to do the deed, but leave this lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have become responsible, he could not, until he was sure she would come to no harm through him.
“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”
It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for an instant since it began, but had chimed its changes through music, ceremony, prayer and reception without interruption. It acted like a goad upon his conscience now. He must do something that would set him free to go back to Washington. An inspiration came to him.
“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with us?” he asked the young man, “I am sure your sister would like to have you.”
The boy’s face lit up joyfully.
“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully, and—if it’s all the same to you, I wish Mother could go too. It’s the first time Celia and she were ever separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have to say good-by with the house full of folks this way. But she doesn’t expect it of course, and really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip——”
“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the compulsory bridegroom graciously, and felt as if he had perjured himself. It was not in his nature to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.
“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he added earnestly. “I really want you. Tell your mother.”