tomacher, under whose making I had suffered so many emotions
that each sprig of work upon it seemed to have its own tale of misery
for my eyes, and fixed against this and her white throat were those
masses of flowers without which her beauty never seemed quite complete.
In her hair, which was piled high above her forehead, flashed a huge
golden comb, and upon her arm gleamed two bracelets, whose exquisite
workmanship was well known to me, for they had been an heirloom in my
family for years. She was fair as a dream, proud as a queen, cold as a
statue, but she was mine! Was not the minister waiting for us at the
church? and were not the horses that were to take us there even now
champing their bits before the door?

"She rode with me. Four white horses had been attached to Miss
Dudleigh's coach, and behind these we passed in state out through the
noble park that separated this lordly house from the rest, into the
closely packed streets, where hundreds waited to catch a glimpse of the
most beautiful woman in Albany, going to be made a bride.

"Miss Dudleigh rode behind us in another coach, and the murmur which
greeted our appearance did not die out till after she had passed, for
they knew she would soon be riding the same road with even greater
state, if not with so much beauty; and the people of Albany loved Honora
Dudleigh, for she was ever a beneficent spirit to them, and more than
ever, since a shadow had fallen upon her happiness, and she had come to
know what misery was.

"And thus we passed on, Marah with a glowing flush of triumph burning on
her cheek and I in one of those moods of happiness whose rapture was so
unalloyed that I scarcely heard the half-laughing comments of those who
saw with wonder how plain was the man who had succeeded in carrying off
this well-known beauty. And the greater part of the way was traversed,
and the bells of the old North Church became audible, and in a moment
more we should have seen the belfry of the church itself rising before
us, when, suddenly, the woman that I loved, the woman whose nuptials the
minister was waiting to celebrate, gave a great start, and, turning
quickly toward me, cried:

"'Turn the horses' heads! I do not go to the church with you to-day. Not
if you kill me, Mark Felt!'

"You have heard of stray bullets coming singing from some unknown
quarter and striking a person seated at a feast. Such a bullet struck me
then. I looked at her in horror."

CHAP