Chapter XXX: Love, Honor and Obey

It was the 26th day of April. The air smelled of balmy spring, a warm sun was overhead, a gentle breeze stirred the leaves amid which the birds sang, and the whole earth seemed a happy place. I jumped out of bed to look over the new suit, which I had, after much time and thought, managed to get together. It was of dark plum-colored stuff, soft to the touch, and became me as well as any coat and breeches I ever had. I laid out a new pair of boots, the pliable leather black and shiny, spread out my cloak on the bed, and was ready to dress for the wedding. I strapped my sword on, feeling that I was now in proper trim for the occasion. The weapon was the same good one which had stood me in such stead all along. It had received many a hard knock, the scabbard was not as free from dents as when I had it from the maker, it was rather rusty, too, I thought, the blade being stained here and there.

I sent to the innkeeper for some rags and rotten stone, that I might polish the steel up. Master Aleworthy appeared himself with the stuff. When he saw my fine looks (for I do myself that credit) he would not let me burnish up the weapon, but insisted on doing it for me. A very proper attempt he made of it, too, for, when he had finished it shone like a new shilling.

“Now for breakfast,” he said.

“Not for me,” I replied, “there will be plenty of fodder when this affair is over.”

“But, Sir Francis, ’twill be a long time to then.”

“Short enough,” was my answer.

I strode out across the fields to the Captain’s house, hoping I might get a glimpse of Lucille. But if she had been hard to see a week ago, she was ten times more so now. At every door I tried I was bidden to take myself off, and call again. Finally, being somewhat vexed, I called to one saucy hussy:

“Know, madame, that I am to wed to-day. That I am the groom.”

“Aye, I know it,” she responded, as cool as you please. “You will be sent for when you are wanted.”

With that I had to be content, kicking my heels up and down the garden path. Noon was the time. It wanted two hours yet.

It seemed a month that I was in the garden. At last some one beckoned to me, and I was admitted in to see Lucille.

I would have gone up, before them all, to kiss her heartily, but she held me off with her little hands, while a chorus of protests from all the women told me I must respect the manner in which she was adorned. Indeed, she made a handsome appearance. The dress was of soft, gray-white, shimmering silk, with pieces of lace as long as my gun barrel all about it, hung on after the manner of the clinging vine that twines about a tree. The sleeves had it in, I think, also, the neck, while there was a plenty trailing down the front and lower edge. She wore a crown of glossy green leaves, a single white flower in her dark hair.

The plan was for the party to go to the block house in carts, half a score of which, festooned with evergreens, were in waiting. Instead of letting Lucille and me go on together, which seemed to me to be the most sensible way, she rode with James Blithly, a great booby of a chap, while I had to sit in the cart with Mistress Alice Turner, a sweet enough maid. She was talkative, and I was not so, on the way, I had to keep answering “yes” and “no” to her questions.

It looked as though all the Colony and the folk from ten miles around had come to the wedding. There were nearly three hundred people in view when we neared the place where Dominie Worthington was awaiting us. There were a number of Indians and their squaws, friendly, all of them, who had gathered to see how the pale faces took their brides. They laughed, smiled and greeted me with “How, Cap’n,” while some held out their pipes, which, as was their custom, I puffed a few whiffs from, to show that we were at peace, though indeed, the ceremony lacked much of the solemnity usually associated with it.

The block house at last. The drum beat as Carteret, in my honor, drew the men up in double file. Lucille and I, with those who were to attend us, dismounted from the carts, marching between the lines of soldier-colonists into the main room. Then I was allowed to move up beside Lucille, while both of us looked about in wonder.

Never had such a bower for the plighting of love been constructed before. The rough hewn walls had been covered with green boughs, red berries gleaming amidst the foliage. On the floor the boards were hidden from view by furs in such quantity that they overlapped. The stag antlers, fastened here and there, served as hooks, whereon were suspended bows, arrows, swords, guns, powder-horns, Indian shields, curious stone hatchets, and many of the red-men’s household implements. Gay colored baskets added to the color of the scene.

A little wooden altar had been made, but it was almost hidden from view by trailing, green vines. The men-at-arms filed in, taking their places on either side of the chamber. Then came the town-folk, and the friendly Indians, squaws, and even settlers from Newark, so that the place was well nigh filled.

Dominie Worthington took his place. Lucille and I stood together, with Alice Turner and James Blithly on either side. Then, ere he began to say the words that would unite us, Master Worthington lifted up his voice in prayer.

Then came the promises, the pledges--“Love, Honor and obey”--“till death do you part”--solemn yet sweet. “Whom God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.”

We were man and wife.

Then indeed came happy confusion and laughter. We were overwhelmed, Lucille and I. But Carteret charged down on us, in the nick of time, to rescue us from the friendly enemy that swarmed about us. How quick was the journey back to the Captain’s house, and what a feast was there spread out for all who wished to come.

So often was the health of Lucille and myself proposed and drunk, that I lost track of those who did me the honor to touch glasses. There was gay laughter, songs and talk, merrymaking among the young people, and over all good-fellowship and much cheer, with Lucille happiest of the women, and I of the men. It grew night, but hundreds of candles chased the gloom away.

So it had come about, after many days, with force and with arms I had won my bride.

We were to go to the home I had prepared. Lucille kissed Madame Carteret and others of her women friends, while I had my own cart and horses brought up to the door.

There were farewells by the score, laughter and tears from the women, cheers from the men. The driver spoke to his team, they leaped forward. Lucille and I had begun our life’s journey together.

It was not far to the house. The door was opened on a blaze of candles.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” I said, kissing her.

“Oh, Francis,” she exclaimed, looking about. “It is perfect. How good of you to do all this for me.”

“Do you like it?”

“It is more than I dreamed.”

A little wind, coming in the windows, flickered the candles. The breeze seemed to sigh in contentment at our happiness. The servants closed the door. We were alone--my wife and I.

THE END.

=“More Ex=Tank Tales”=

By CLARENCE LOUIS CULLEN.

With Introduction by the Author.

_12mo, 250 Pages. Cloth Bound. Price, One Dollar._

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TALE THE FIRST.--Wherein Ex-Tank No. 18 Marvelously Winneth Out as ye
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TALE THE SECOND.--In Which Ex-Tank No. 17 Meeteth Up With ye Renowned
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TALE THE EIGHTH--Describeth, Through the Lips of Ex-Tank (Ultlander) No.
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York.

TALE THE NINTH.--Wherein Ex-Tank (Hoodoo) No. 13 Hath a Good Word to Say
of ye Slumbersome Burg, Philadelphia-by-Schuylkill.

TALE THE TENTH--In Which Ex-Tank No. 22 Narrowly Escapeth the Dangers of
ye Vasty Deep.

TALE THE ELEVENTH.--Wherein Ex-Tank No. 14, by Means of ye Raffling
Stunt, Returneth to His Home Like Santa Claus.

TALE THE TWELFTH.--Wherein Ex-Tank No. 12 Starts on a Journey from
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Translated Direct from the Polish by BASIL DAHL.

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Transcriber’s Note

On p. 212, the printer transposed the third and fourth lines of the paragraph beginning: “So we stood thus....”

As printed:

So we stood thus, perchance while a man might have counted a score slowly. Around us was the waste of =[to go to pieces every second. Between us, as pale as death,]= =[waters. Under our feet the quivering Eagle, that was like]= was Lucille, the cause of both of us being there. Perhaps she was dead, and our bitter words were spoken in vain.

Corrected:

So we stood thus, perchance while a man might have counted a score slowly. Around us was the waste of =[waters. Under our feet the quivering Eagle, that was like]= =[to go to pieces every second. Between us, as pale as death,]= was Lucille, the cause of both of us being there. Perhaps she was dead, and our bitter words were spoken in vain.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original. The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.

30.24 Lord prevent that they cast their eyes this Replaced.
way[?/!]”

55.26 I had to rout up Wil[l]is, Added.

127.26 as though they were [p/b]ut pebbles. Replaced.

149.23 and I wondered va[ug/gu]ely Transposed.

154.13 and your po[r]ker was a fine fat one Added.

164.21 when I asked if I was not [t]o hang Added.

174.17 to burn us like rats in a tra[y/p]. Replaced.

187.5 “Oh, the vill[ia/ai]n,” Transposed.

188.4 and Nanette ac[c]ompanied them. Added.

199.13 “I suppose I must,” he said sullenly[.] Added.

199.27 a voyage he couldn’t see the end of[.] Added.

231.17 from the charge of wit[c]hcraft Added.

257.15 and then we[b / b]reathed, it seemed Transposed.

262.11 or halt them for a[ ]time Added.

265.16 Messenger[s] were sent Added.

278.24 into a panic as quickly as possibl[y/e] Replaced.

295.25 they might not get near enough to charge[.] Added.

301.14 to ignite the hug[h/e] pile of brush Replaced.

304.26 “And who car[r]ied out the powder?” Added.

316.13 feeling his [s]teel pierce my side Added.

333.10 “With all my wor[l]dly goods I thee endow.” Added.