ho overnight had sanctified the
ring. (It was he who had entertained Rodriguez when he first escaped
from la Garda, and Rodriguez had sent for him now.) Each note of the
bells came clear through the hush as they entered the church. And then
with suitable attendants the bishop strode by and they saw quite close
the blessed cope of Toledo. And the bridegroom followed him in, wearing
his sword, and Don Alderon went with him. And then the voices rose
again in the street: the bells rang on: they all saw Dona Mirana. The
little bunches of bright anemones grew sticky in their hands: the bells
seemed louder: cheering rose in the street and came all down it nearer.
Then Dona Serafina walked past them with all her maids: and that is
what the gossips chiefly remembered, telling how she smiled at them,
and praising her dress, through those distant summer evenings. Then
there was music in the church. And afterwards the forest-people had
come. And the people screamed, for none knew what they would do. But
they bowed so low to the bride and bridegroom, and showed their great
hunting bows so willingly to all who wished to see, that the people
lost their alarm and only feared lest the Bishop of Toledo should blast
the merry bowmen with one of his curses.

And presently the bride and bridegroom entered the chariot, and the
people cheered; and there were farewells and the casting of flowers;
and the bishop blessed three of their bows; and a fat man sat beside
the driver with folded arms, wearing bright on his face a look of
foolish contentment; and the bowmen and bride and bridegroom all went
away to the forest.

Four huge white horses drew that bridal chariot, the bowmen ran beside
it, and soon it was lost to sight of the girls that watched it from
Lowlight; but their memories held it close till their eyes could no
longer see to knit and they could only sit by their porches in fine
weather and talk of the days that were.

So came Rodriguez and his bride to the forest; he silent, perplexed,
wondering always to what home and what future he brought her; she
knowing less than he and trusting more. And on the untended road that
the bowmen shared with stags and with rare, very venturous travellers,
the wheels of the woodland chariot sank so deep in the sandy earth that
the escort of bowmen needed seldom to run any more; and he who sat by
the driver climbed down and walked silent for once, perhaps awed by the
occasion, though he was none oth