"Now, my lord. We could not get on without you."
"Oh, thank you—thank you. You are very good."
The Lord Mayor crossed the threshold, and then Mr. Villimay, who had occupied a remote and mysterious position at the back of the door, closed it, and locked it on the inside.
"If—if you were to lose the key, Mr. Villimay?" said the Lord Mayor.
"Why, then," interposed Sir Richard Blunt, "I'm afraid we should have to stay there until Sunday, unless some couple kindly got married in the meantime."
The Lord Mayor gave a very odd kind of cough, as he said—
"What would the Lady Mayoress say?"
The air without had been cold, but what was that compared with the coldness within? At least, the street breeze had been dry, but in the church there was such a fearful dampness pervading the narrow passage in which the party found itself, that every one felt as though his very marrow was cold.
"This passage," said Mr. Villimay, "hasn't been opened for many a long day."
"Indeed!" said the secretary.