he
was dressed yesterday--and--detail to note--with a pencil behind the
lobe of his left ear, for he has just been making out an account for
his New York house.

Here is Miss Horatia Bluett, as thin, as dry, as plain as ever, her
dust cloak over her traveling gown, and in place of jewelry a noisy
bunch of keys, which hangs from her belt.

The company politely rise as the bride and bridegroom enter. They "mark
time," as Caterna says. Then they advance toward the clergyman, who is
standing with his hand resting on a Bible, open probably at the place
where Isaac, the son of Abraham, espouses Rebecca, the daughter of
Rachel.

We might fancy we were in a chapel if we only had a harmonium.

And the music is here! If it is not a harmonium, it is the next thing
to it. An accordion makes itself heard in Caterna's hands. As an
ancient mariner, he knows how to manipulate this instrument of torture,
and here he is swinging out the andante from _Norma_ with the most
accordionesque expression.

It seems to give great pleasure to the natives of Central Asia. Never
have their ears been charmed by the antiquated melody that the
pneumatic apparatus was rendering so expressively.

But everything must end in this world, even the andante from _Norma_.
and the Reverend Nathaniel Morse began to favor the young couple with
the speech which had clone duty many times before under similar
circumstances. "The two souls that blend together--Flesh of my
flesh--Increase and multiply--"

In my opinion he had much better have got to work like a notary:
"Before us, there has been drawn up a deed of arrangement regarding
Messrs. Ephrinell, Bluett & Co.--"

My thought remained unfinished. There are shouts from the engine. The
brakes are suddenly applied with a scream and a grind. Successive
shocks accompany the stoppage of the train. Then, with a violent bump,
the cars pull up in a cloud of sand.

What an interruption to the nuptial ceremony!

Everything is upset in the dining car, men, furniture, bride,
bridegroom and witnesses. Not one kept his equilibrium. It is an
indescribable pell-mell, with cries of terror and prolonged groans. But
I hasten to point out that there was nothing serious, for the stoppage
was not all at once.

"Quick!" said the major. "Out of the train!"

* * * * *

CHAPTER XX.

In a moment the passengers, more or less bruised and alarmed, were out
on the track. Nothing but complaints and qu