The last toll of the bell rolled out slowly and solemnly, and its deep tones came along the lofty church, and died away in long reverberations down the aisles and along the galleries. Twelve! The hour had come, and with the hour the man; but where was the woman?
Thus far Jack had been holding his face in his hands; but, as the last tones of the bell died away, he raised himself and looked around with some wildness in his face.
"By Jove! Only think of it. A widow, and too late! By Jove! I can't grapple with the idea, you know."
After this we relapsed into silence, and waited.
The people in the pews whispered more vigorously, and every little while looked anxiously around to see if the bridal party was approaching. Old Fletcher closed his eyes, folded his arms, and appeared either buried in thought or in sleep--probably a little of both. Jack sat stolidly with his legs crossed, and his hands hugging his knee, looking straight before him at the opposite side of the chancel, and apparently reading most diligently the Ten Commandments, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer, which were on the wall there. I was in a general state of mild but ever-increasing surprise, and endeavored to find some conceivable reason for such very curious procrastination.
So the time passed, and none of us said any thing, and the little company of spectators grew fidgety, and Jack still stared, and I still wondered.
"You said twelve, I think, sir," said he, mildly and benevolently.
"Twelve--did I? Well--of course; why not? Twelve, of course."
"The lady is rather behind the time, I think--isn't she?" said the reverend gentleman, with mild suggestiveness.
"Behind the time?" said Jack, fumbling at his watch; "why, so she is; why, it's twenty minutes to one. By Jove!"
"Perhaps you mistook the hour," hinted the clergyman.
"Mistook it? Not a bit of it," cried Jack, who looked puzzled and bewildered. "The hour? I'm as confident it was twelve as I'm confident of my existence. Not a bit of doubt about that."
"Perhaps something's happened," said I; "hadn't I better drive round to the house, Jack?"
"Yes; not a bad idea," said Jack. "I'll go too. I can't stand it any longer. I've read the ten commandments through seventy-nine times, and was trying to work up to a hundred, when, you interrupted me. Do you know, old chap--I feel out of sorts; that brandy's got to my head--I'd like a little fresh air. Besides, I can't stand this waiting any longer. If it's got to be--why, the sooner the better. Have it out--and be done with it, I say. A fellow don't want to stand all day on the scaffold waiting for the confounded hangman--does he?"