Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
She felt that it was
going, going. She prayed that the minister might be quick, while yet
she retained a little self-command, and give her an opportunity to utter
some binding vow which should make good her solemn engagement, and avert
the scandal of the outbreak on the verge of which she was trembling. “Do
you,” said the minister to Mr. Whitcomb, “take this woman whom you
hold by the hand to be your wife, to honor, protect, and love while
you live?” “I do,” replied the bridegroom promptly. “Do you,” said the
minister, looking at Mary, “take the man whom you hold by the hand to
be your husband, to love and honor while you live?” Mary tried to say
“Yes,” but at the effort there surged up against it an opposition
that was almost tangible in its overpowering force. No longer merely
operating upon her sensibilities, the inexplicable influence that
was conquering her now seized on her physical functions, and laid its
interdict upon her tongue. Three times she strove to throw off the
incubus, to speak, but in vain. Great drops were on her forehead;
she was deadly pale, and her eyes were wild and staring; her features
twitched as in a spasm, while she stood there struggling with the
invisible power that sealed her lips. There was a sudden movement among
the spectators; they were whispering together. They saw that something
was wrong. “Do you thus promise?” repeated the minister, after a pause.
“Nod, if you can't speak,” murmured the bridegroom. His words were the
hiss of a serpent in her ears. Her will resisted no longer; her soul
was wholly possessed by unreasoning terror of the man and horror of the
marriage. “No! no! no!” she screamed in piercing tones, and snatching
her hand from the bridegroom, she threw herself upon the breast of the
astonished minister, sobbing wildly as she clung to him, “Save me, save
me! Take me away! I can't marry him,--I can't! Oh, I can't!”
The wedding broke up in confusion, and that is the way, if you choose
to think so, that John Lansing, one thousand miles away, saved his wife
from marrying another man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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