And then he proposed that they should be made man and wife now in the world’s last hour.  It was not wrong.  It could not give her mother heart-disease, for she would not know of it till she should hear it in the land where there are neither marriages nor sickness.  Julia could not see any sin in her disobedience under such circumstances.  She did so much want to go into the New Jerusalem as the wedded wife of August “the grand,” as she fondly called him.

And so in the stillness of that awful night they walked back to Andrew’s castle, and found the venerable preacher, with saddle-bags on his arm, ready to mount his horse, for the presiding elder of that day had no leisure time.  Jonas and Cynthy stood bidding him good-by.  And the old man was saying again that if we were always ready it would be like stepping from one door into another.  But he thought it as wrong to waste time gazing up into heaven to see Christ come, as it had been to gaze after Him when He went away.  Even Jonas’s voice was a little softened by the fearful thought ever present of the coming on of that awful midnight of the eleventh of August.  All were surprised to see the two young people come back.

“Father Williams,” said August, “we thought we should like to go into the New Jerusalem man and wife.  Will you marry us?”

“Sensible to the last!” cried Jonas.

“According to the laws of this State,” said Mr. Williams, “you can not be married without a license from the clerk of the county.  Have you a license?”

“No,” said August, his heart sinking.

Just then Andrew came up and inquired what the conversation was about.

“Why, Uncle Andrew,” said Julia eagerly, “August and I don’t want the end of the world to come without being man and wife.  And we have no license, and August could not go seven miles and back to get a license before midnight.  It is too bad, isn’t it?  If it wasn’t that we think the end of the world is so near, I should be ashamed to say how much I want to be married.  But I shall be proud to have been August’s wife, when I am among the angels.”

“You are a noble woman,” said Andrew.  “Come in, let us see if anything can be done.”  And he led the way, smiling.

CHAPTER XLII.

FOR EVER AND EVER.

When they had all re-entered the castle, Andrew made them sit down.  The old minister did not see any escape from the fatal obstacle of a lack of license, but Andrew was very mysterious.

“Virtue is its own reward,” said the Philosopher, “but it often finds an incidental reward besides.  Now, Julia, you are the noblest woman in these degenerate times, according to my way of thinking.”

“That’s true as preachin’, ef you’ll except one,” chirped Jonas, with a significant look at his Cynthy Ann.  Julia blushed, and the old minister looked inquiringly at Andrew and at Julia.  This exaggerated praise from a man so misanthropic as Andrew excited his curiosity.