Was he less brave than they? And he thought, standing there under the night sky, how cleverly the gypsy had outwitted Blue-beard at the very altar to which he had led his blushing brides. Great was Miss Northrup's consternation the next morning when she learned through a little note left for her that Captain Frazier had taken his departure from the Crossmon Hotel the preceding night. A sigh of relief fell from her red lips. "Perhaps it is better so," she said. A messenger who brought a great basket of orchids and white roses, entered. Hidden among the flowers, Gerelda found a little note in Varrick's handwriting: "I hope my darling rested well. Heaven has made the day beautiful because it is our marriage morn." It was an odd notion of Gerelda's to steal away from their elegant city mansion and her dear five hundred friends, to have the ceremony performed quietly up at the Thousand Islands, with only a select few to witness it. Great preparations had been made in the hotel for the approaching marriage. The spacious private parlors to be used were perfect fairy bowers of roses and green leaves. Up to this very morning Miss Northrup's imported wedding-gown had not arrived. Mrs. Northrup and Hubert Varrick were wild with anxiety and impatience over the affair. Gerelda alone took the matter calmly. "It will be here some time to-day," she averred. "The wedding will be delayed but a few hours, after all, and I don't know but that I prefer an evening wedding to a morning one, anyhow." It was almost dark ere the long-looked-for bridal _trousseau_ arrived. Varrick drew a great breath of relief. He welcomed the shadows of night with the greatest joy. He never afterward remembered how he lived until the hour of eight rolled round. He had not long to wait in the little anteroom where she was to join him. The few invited guests who were so fortunate as to receive invitations were all present. A low murmur of admiration ran around that little group as the heavy silken _portieres_ that separated the anteroom from the reception parlor were drawn aside, and Hubert Varrick entered with the beautiful heiress leaning on his arm. In her gloved right hand she carried a prayer-book of pearl and gold. A messenger had brought it, handing it to her just as she was about to enter the anteroom. "It is from an unknown friend," whispered the boy, so low that even Varrick did not catch the words. "A simple wish accompanies it," the boy went on, "and that is, when the ceremony is but just begun, you will raise the little book to your lips for the sake of the unknown friend who sends it to you." Gerelda smiled and promised, thoughtlessly enough, that she would comply. "Are you ready, my darling?" said Hubert.