And then the good vicar, still distressed at being aroused so early, came to the church. Had it been less pitiful and pathetic, it would have been most comical, the number of times the old vicar dropped his book, forgot the names, the appalling mistakes he made, the nervous hesitation of his manner. Sometimes Lord Chandos felt inclined to say hard, hot words; again, he could not repress a smile. But at length, after trembling and hesitating, the vicar gave the final benediction, and pronounced them man and wife. In the vestry, when the names were signed, some ray of light seemed to dawn on the old vicar. "Chandos," he said, "that is not a common name about here." "Is it not?" said the young lord; "it seems common enough to me." "Chandos," repeated the minister, "where have I heard that name!" "I have heard it so often that I am tired of it," said the young husband. And then it was all over. "Thank God to be out in the sunlight," he cried, as he stood, with his beautiful wife, in the churchyard. "Thank God it is all over, and I can call my love my wife. I thought that service would never end. Frank, have you no good wishes for my wife?" Sir Frank went to Leone. "I wish you joy," he said; "I wish you all happiness--but----" And then he played nervously with the hat he held in his hand. "But," she said with a bright smile, "you do not think I shall get it?" Sir Frank made no answer; he did not think she would be happy, but she had chosen her own way; he had said all he could. Perhaps his eyes were clearer than others, for he could read a tragedy in her face. Then Sir Frank left them, having performed his part with a very ill grace. "Leone, have you said good-bye to your uncle?" asked Lord Chandos. "I left a little note to be given him when he returns home this evening. How he will miss me." "And how fortunate I am to have you, my darling; there is no one in the wide world so happy. We will drive over to Rashleigh Station. I do not care who sees me now, no one can part us. Dr. Hervey thinks I went home to London this morning, but I won a wife before starting, did I not, Leone, my beautiful love? You are Lady Chandos now. What are you thinking of, my darling?" "I was wondering, Lance, if there was anything in our marriage that could possibly invalidate it and make it illegal?" "No," he replied, "I have been too careful of you, Leone, for that. You are my wife before God and man. Nothing shall take you from me but death." "But death," she repeated slowly. And in after years they both remembered the words. CHAPTER IX. A MYSTERIOUS TELEGRAM. Cawdor took rank among the most stately homes of England: it had been originally one of the grand Saxon strongholds, one, too, which the Normans had found hard to conquer. As time wore on the round towers and the keep fell into ruins--picturesque and beautiful ruins, round which the green ivy hung in luxuriant profusion; then the ruins were left standing.