Chapter 17 - Page 2

which it had been
consigned. Many were surprised, and even scandalized, that Ellieslaw,
not remarkable for attention to his lady while alive, should erect after
her death such a costly mausoleum in affected sorrow; others cleared him
from the imputation of hypocrisy, and averred that the monument had
been constructed under the direction and at the sole expense of Mr.
Ratcliffe.

Before these monuments the wedding guests were assembled. They were
few in number; for many had left the castle to prepare for the ensuing
political explosion, and Ellieslaw was, in the circumstances of the
case, far from being desirous to extend invitations farther than to
those near relations whose presence the custom of the country rendered
indispensable. Next to the altar stood Sir Frederick Langley, dark,
moody, and thoughtful, even beyond his wont, and near him, Mareschal,
who was to play the part of bridesman, as it was called. The thoughtless
humour of this young gentleman, on which he never deigned to place
the least restraint, added to the cloud which overhung the brow of the
bridegroom.

"The bride is not yet come out of her chamber," he whispered to Sir
Frederick; "I trust that we must not have recourse to the violent
expedients of the Romans which I read of at College. It would be hard
upon my pretty cousin to be run away with twice in two days, though I
know none better worth such a violent compliment."

Sir Frederick attempted to turn a deaf ear to this discourse, humming a
tune, and looking another may, but Mareschal proceeded in the same wild
manner.

"This delay is hard upon Dr. Hobbler, who was disturbed to accelerate
preparations for this joyful event when he had successfully extracted
the cork of his third bottle. I hope you will keep him free of the
censure of his superiors, for I take it this is beyond canonical
hours.--But here come Ellieslaw and my pretty cousin--prettier than
ever, I think, were it not she seems so faint and so deadly pale--Hark
ye, Sir Knight, if she says not YES with right good-will, it shall be no
wedding, for all that has come and gone yet."

"No wedding, sir?" returned Sir Frederick, in a loud whisper, the
tone of which indicated that his angry feelings were suppressed with
difficulty.

"No--no marriage," replied Mareschal, "there's my hand and glove on't."

Sir Frederick Langley took his hand, and as he wrung it hard, said in
a lower whisper, "Mareschal, you shall answer this," and then flung his
hand from him.

"That I will readily do," said Mareschal, "for never word escaped my
lips that my hand was not ready to guarantee.-So, speak up, my pretty
cousin,