low him to pass."

"You mistake, friend," said my companion gravely. "This gentleman, my
worthy colleague, has but just come from the island of St. Brandon,
where he preaches on the witches' Sabbath: hence the disorder of his
apparel. His admittance be on my head: wherefore let us by."

"None to enter at the west door save Councilors, commander, and
ministers. Any attempting to force an entrance to be arrested and laid
by the heels if they be of the generality, or, if they be of quality,
to be duly fined and debarred from the purchase of any maid whatsoever,"
chanted the sexton.

"Then, in God's name, let's on!" I exclaimed "Here, try this!" and I
drew from my purse, which was something of the leanest, a shilling.

"Try this," quoth Master Jeremy Sparrow, and knocked the sexton down.

We left the fellow sprawling in the doorway, sputtering threats to the
air without, but with one covetous hand clutching at the shilling which
I threw behind me, and entered the church, which we found yet empty,
though through the open great door we heard the drum beat loudly and a
deepening sound of footsteps.

"I have choice of position," I said. "Yonder window seems a good
station. You remain here in the choir?"

"Ay," he answered, with a sigh; "the dignity of my calling must be
upheld: wherefore I sit in high places, rubbing elbows with gold lace,
when of the very truth the humility of my spirit is such that I would
feel more at home in the servants' seats or among the negars that we
bought last year."

Had we not been in church I would have laughed, though indeed I saw that
he devoutly believed his own words. He took his seat in the largest
and finest of the chairs behind the great velvet one reserved for the
Governor, while I went and leaned against my window, and we stared at
each other across the flower-decked building in profound silence, until,
with one great final crash, the bells ceased, the drum stopped beating,
and the procession entered.

CHAPTER III IN WHICH I MARRY IN HASTE

THE long service of praise and thanksgiving was well-nigh over when I
first saw her.

She sat some ten feet from me, in the corner, and so in the shadow of a
tall pew. Beyond her was a row of milkmaid beauties, red of cheek, free
of eye, deep-bosomed, and beribboned like Maypoles. I looked again, and
saw--and see--a rose amongst blowzed poppies and peonies, a pearl amidst
glass beads, a Perdita in a ring of rustics, a nonparella of a