He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy water, in the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: "_Benedic, Domine, annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine benedicimus, ut quæ eum gestaverit, fidelitatem integram suo sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua permaneat atque in mutua charitate semper vivat._"
He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, held by the knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by some unseen hand, and instantly extinguished. The wild pageant vanished as suddenly as the figures cast by a magic-lantern upon a wall disappear when the glass is removed. A wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the voice of Barbara.
"To the door, quickly!--to the door! Let no one pass, I will find out the author of this mishap anon. Away!"
She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves at the door.
"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By darkness, or by light, the match shall be completed."
The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage was complete.
Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music seemed to float in the air.
Fast the sand of life is falling, Fast her latest sigh exhaling, Fast, fast, is she dying.
With death's chills her limbs are shivering, With death's gasp the lips are quivering, Fast her soul away is flying.
O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth, And the skyey wonders greeteth, Singing loud as stars it meeteth On its way.
Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling, Hollowly in echoes rolling, Seems to say--
"She will ope her eyes--oh, never! Quenched their dark light--gone for ever! She is dead."
The marriage group yet lingered near the altar, awaiting, it would seem, permission from the gipsy queen to quit the cell. Luke stirred not. Clasped in his own, the cold hand of his bride detained him; and when he would have moved, her tightened grasp prevented his departure.