An anxious look dawned in her face. "I am insulted—" says she, and paused quickly. "Edward!" she called, and put a hand to her bosom.
"Anne, my dove!" cried the voice, "where are you? Come, child, 'tis late."
The horses came to a stop before the door, with the body in the saddle, bound to the crupper.
"What is it?" she cried in alarm, and suddenly she shrieked out, clutching at the door-post. "It is an omen—my wedding-night."
"Ay," says I, "which be your bridegroom, he that calls out or he that is silent? Call on him and he hears not."
Peal after peal went up now from her, and the house was awake with alarm. I turned away, leaving her on the door-step, and mounted the mare. As I cantered off into the night I cast a glance behind me, and a group was gathered at the door, and in that group lay Mrs Anne fallen in a swoon, with the sleeping figure on the horse before her.
COLSTON AND COY. LIMITED, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.