The Wedding Feast
The stranger gazed on her for a moment as one entranced. It seemed as if his whole soul beamed forth in the gaze, and rested upon her beauty.
One of the maiden aunts whispered something in her ear. She made an effort to speak. Her moist blue eyes were timidly raised, gave a shy glance at the stranger, and were cast again to the ground.
Her words died away, but there was a sweet smile playing about her lips, and a soft dimpling of the cheek showed that she was pleased to meet so charming a person.
The late hour at which the guest had arrived left no time for talk. The stranger attempted again to tell his sad news, but the baron would not listen, and immediately led the way to the untasted banquet.
The feast was served in the great hall of the castle. Around the walls hung the portraits of the bride’s ancestors, and the horns and tusks of animals they had killed in the hunt. Armor and spears, and torn banners hung next to jaws of wolves and tusks of boars, and spears and battle axes. A large pair of antlers hung just over the head of the youthful bridegroom.
The stranger took but little notice of the company or of the entertainment. He scarcely tasted the banquet, but seemed absorbed in admiring the bride. He talked with her in a low tone that could not be overheard. The bride’s color came and went, and she listened to him with deep attention. Now and then she made some reply, but she was very quiet most of the time, and when his glance was turned she looked at him with much pleasure.
“They have fallen in love at first sight,” whispered one aunt.
“I felt that it would be so,” said the other.
The feast went on merrily, or at least noisily, for the guests were all blessed with large appetites.