“You are right,” exclaimed the other, “nothing must interfere with the marriage.”

“This must be the place,” exclaimed Halloran, in a low voice; “large gabled house, arched gate, serpentine walk; yes, there is the figure of a woman in the shadow of the stone post this way.  You are actually trembling.  Remember, it’s only a young girl you are to face on this occasion, and a deucedly pretty one, at that.  The time that you will be more apt to be shaky is when you face her father; but I guess you’re equal to it.”

A low laugh was his companion’s only answer.  The next moment Kendale called to the driver to halt, threw open the door and sprang out into the main road, hastening toward the little figure that had emerged out of the shadow.

“Oh, Lester, you have been so long,” cried the girl, springing into his arms with a little sobbing cry.  “I have been waiting here almost half an hour.”

“It took longer to come than I had reckoned on, my darling,” he answered.  “You know I had to stop at the village below and make arrangements for the wedding.”

The girl drew back and looked at him.

“Your voice sounds so hoarse and strange, Lester,” she said.  “Have you been crying?”

His arms fell from her; he drew back, laughing immoderately.

“What, weeping on the happiest day of my life?” he cried.  “Well, that’s pretty good.  I’ve been up to my ears in business, rushing around, to get everything in shipshape order, but, good Lord! what am I thinking about, to keep you standing here in the snow?  Here is the coach, and by the way, I’ve brought along an old friend of mine, who was wild to witness the marriage ceremony.”

As he spoke he took her by the arm and drew the girl toward the carriage in waiting.

What was there about her lover that seemed so changed to the girl, that caused the love to suddenly die out of her heart?

“Lester,” she cried, drawing back, “oh—­oh, please do not be angry with me, but I’ve changed my mind.  It seemed such a terrible thing to do.  Let us not be married to-night.”

Something like an imprecation rose to his lips, but he chopped it off quickly, uttering again that laugh, so hard, so cruel, so blood-curdling, that it sent a chill of terror to her young heart.

“It’s too late to change your mind now,” he exclaimed.  “It’s only natural you should feel this way; girls always do.  Here is the coach and the horses.  The driver and my friend will be impatient to be off.”

Either the excitement of his coming triumph or the brandy he had taken had made him recklessly wild.

He drew her along, heedless of her struggles, her passionate protest.  His face was flushed, his dark eyes gleamed; he was ready at that moment to face and defy devils and men.

“Don’t make a fuss, my darling.  You’ve got to come along,” he exclaimed.  “Of course, you have scruples and all that.  I think the more of you for them, but you’ll thank me for not listening some day.  I’ll bring you back after the ceremony’s over and set you down at your own gate, if you say so, I swear I will,” and as he spoke he caught her in his arms and fairly thrust her into the vehicle, placed her on the seat and sprang in beside her.