CHAPTER III. THE WITNESS
At last the page was found again by Mr. Jenkins. Having found it, he hesitated still a moment, then cleared his throat, and in the manner of one hurling himself forward upon a desperate venture, he began to read.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God,” he read, and on in a nasal, whining voice, which not only was the very voice you would have expected from such a man, but in accordance, too, with sound clerical convention. The bridal pair stood before him, the groom with a slight flush on his cheeks and a bright glitter in his black eyes, which were not nice to see; the bride with bowed head and bosom heaving as in response to inward tumult.
The cleric came to the end of his exordium, paused a moment, and whether because he gathered confidence, whether because he realized the impressive character of the fresh matter upon which he entered, he proceeded now in a firmer, more sonorous voice: “I require and charge you both as ye will answer on the dreadful day of judgment.”
“Ye've forgot something,” Mr. Caryll interrupted blandly.
His lordship swung round with an impatient gesture and an impatient snort; the lady, too, looked up suddenly, whilst Mr. Jenkins seemed to fall into an utter panic.
“Wha—what?” he stammered. “What have I forgot?”
“To read the directions, I think.”
His lordship scowled darkly upon Mr. Caryll, who heeded him not at all, but watched the lady sideways.