"No, parson," replied Adam, hobbling in. "There's no call for you to be out on this terrible night, thank Heaven. It's quite by chance that I left my own fireside myself. I had an errand at the other end of the village. The weather caught me returning—a regular blizzard—and I have been floundering about in the drifting snow for hours. I thought I had lost my way until I saw the light in the window, and—"
But the rest of the sentence was never finished, for at that moment both men heard distinctly the sound of carriage wheels without, accompanied by the loud neighing of horses.
Before they could express their wonderment there was a loud peal at the front door bell.
The reverend gentleman answered the summons in person.
Before him stood three persons, two men and a woman, a slender figure wearing a long dark cloak, and whose face was covered by a thick veil.
Both men had their coat collars turned up and their hats pulled low over their faces to protect them from the stinging cold.
"You are the Rev. Dr. Warner?" queried one of the gentlemen. The minister bowed in the affirmative, hurriedly bidding his guests to enter.
"You will pardon our errand," exclaimed the stranger who had already spoken, "but we are here to enlist your services. Can you perform a wedding ceremony in the old chapel across the way? Our time is limited. We are in all haste to catch a train, and wish the marriage to take place with the least possible delay."
"Certainly, certainly, sir," returned the good man. "I am always pleased to join two souls in holy matrimony. Step in; the lady must be thoroughly chilled. This is a dreadful night."
"We prefer to make our way directly over to the chapel," remarked the man who had spoken up to this point. "The lady is warm, having but just left the carriage, a few steps beyond."