The ceremony immediately commenced. The prologue beginning, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here," etc., etc., etc., was read. The solemn exhortation to the contracting parties, commencing "I require and charge ye both, as ye shall answer in the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any just cause or impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together," etc., etc., etc., followed. Capitola listened to all this with the deepest attention, saying to herself: "Well, I declare, this getting married is really awfully interesting! If it were not for Herbert Greyson, I'd just let it go right straight on to the end and see what would happen next!" While Cap was making these mental comments the priest was asking the bridegroom: "Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife," etc., etc., etc., "so long as ye both shall live?" To which Craven Le Noir, in a sonorous voice responded: "I will." "Indeed you will? We'll see that presently!" said Cap to herself. The priest then turning toward the bride, inquired: "Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, etc., etc., etc., so long as ye both shall live?" To which the bride, throwing aside her veil, answered, firmly: "No! not if he were the last man and I the last woman on the face of the earth and the human race was about to become extinct and the angel of Gabriel came down from above to ask it of me as a personal favor." The effect of this outburst, this revelation, this explosion, may be imagined but can never be adequately described. The priest dropped his book and stood with lifted hands and open mouth and staring eyes as though he had raised a ghost! The two Le Noirs simultaneously sprang forward, astonishment, disappointment and rage contending in their blanched faces. "Who are you, girl?" exclaimed Colonel Le Noir. "Capitola Black, your honor's glory!" she replied, making a deep curtsey. "What the foul fiend is the meaning of all this?" in the same breath inquired the father and son. Cap put her thumb on the side of her nose, and, whirling her four fingers, replied: "It means, your worships' excellencies, that--you--can't come it! it's no go! this chicken won't fight. It means that the fat's in the fire, and the cat's out of the bag! It means confusion! distraction! perdition! and a tearing off of our wigs! It means the game's up, the play's over, villainy is about to be hanged and virtue about to be married, and the curtain is going to drop and the principal performer--that's I--is going to be called out amid the applause of the audience!" Then, suddenly changing her mocking tone to one of great severity, she said: "It means that you have been outwitted by a girl! It means that your purposed victim has fled, and is by this time in safety! It means that you two, precious father and son, would be a pair of knaves if you had sense enough; but, failing in that, you are only a pair of fools!"