"'Turn the horses' heads! I do not go to the church with you to-day. Not if you kill me, Mark Felt!'
"You have heard of stray bullets coming singing from some unknown quarter and striking a person seated at a feast. Such a bullet struck me then. I looked at her in horror."
"'You think I am playing with you,' she murmured. 'I am not. I have sickened of these nuptials and am going back. If you want to, you may kill me where I sit. You carry a dagger, I know; one more red blossom will not show on my breast. Give it to me if you will, but turn the horses.'
"She meant it, however much my lost heart might cry out for its happiness and honor. Leaning forward, I told the pompous driver that Miss Leighton had been taken very ill, and bade him drive back; and then with the calmness born of utter despair and loss, I said to her:
"'In pity for my pride drop your head upon my shoulder. I have said you were sick, and sick you must be. It is the least you can do for me now.'
"She obeyed me. That head on which in fancy I had set the crowns of empires, for whose every hair my heart had given a throb, sank coldly down till it rested upon the heart she had broken; and while I steadied my nerves to meet the changed faces of the crowd, the carriage gave a sudden turn, and amid murmurings that fell almost unheeded on my benumbed senses, we wheeled about and faced again the gates through which we had so lately issued.
"'She is ill,' I shouted to Miss Dudleigh, as we passed her carriage. But she gave me no reply. She was gazing over the heads of the crowd at some distant object that enthralled her every look and sense; and moved by her expression as I thought never to be moved by anything again, I followed her glance, and there, on the outskirts of the crowd, crouching amid branches that yet refused to hide him, I saw Edwin Urquhart; and the miserable truth smote home to my heart that it was he who had stopped my marriage--he, whom I had thought far distant, but who had now come to hinder, by some secret gesture or glance, my bride on her path to the altar.
"A dagger was hidden in my breast, and I still wonder that I did not leap from the carriage, burst through the crowd, and slay him where he crouched in cowardly ambush. But I let the moment go by, perhaps because I dreaded to bring the shadow of another woe into Miss Dudleigh's white face, and almost immediately the throng had surged in thickly between us, and Miss Dudleigh's carriage had turned after ours, and there was nothing further to do but to ride back, with the false face pressed in seeming insensibility to my breast, and that false heart beating out its cold throbs of triumph upon mine.