There it was, a printed wedding certificate, done in blue and gold with
a colored picture of two clasped hands under a white dove with a gold
ring in its beak. Beneath was an idealized boat with silken sails
bearing two people down a rose-lined river of life; and the whole was
bordered with orange blossoms. It was one of those old-fashioned
affairs that country ministers used to give their parishioners in the
years gone by, and are still to be had in some dusty corners of a
forgotten drawer in country book stores. But Michael recognized at once
that it was a real certificate. He read it carefully. The blanks were
all filled in, the date she gave of the marriage was there, and the
name of the bridegroom though evidently written in a disguised hand
could be deciphered: “Sty. Carter.” Michael did not recognize the names
of either the witnesses or the officiating minister.
“How do you happen to have Mr. Carter’s real name here when you say he
married you under an assumed name?” he asked moving his finger
thoughtfully over the blurred name that had evidently been scratched
out and written over again.
“I made him put it in after I found out who he was,” said Lizzie. “He
couldn’t come it over me thet-a-way. He was awful gone on me then, an’
I cud do most ennythin’ with him. It was ’fore she cum home from
Europe! She jes’ went fer him an’ turned his head. Ef I’d a-knowed in
time I’d gone an’ tole her, but land sakes! I don’t ’spose ’twould a
done much good. I would a-ben to her before, only I was fool ’nough to
promise him I wouldn’t say nothin’ to her ef he’d keep away from her.
You see I needed money awful bad fer baby. He don’t take to livin’
awful good. He cries a lot an’ I hed to hev thin’s fer ’im, so I
threatened him ef he didn’t do sompin’ I’d go tell her; an’ he up an’
forked over, but not till I promised. But now they say the papers is
tellin’ he’s to marry her tonight, an’ I gotta stop it somehow. I got
my rights an’ baby’s to look after, promise er no promise, Ken I get
him arrested?”
“I am not sure what you can do until I look into the matter,” Michael
said gravely. Would the paper he held help or would it not, in his
mission to Starr’s father? And would it be too late? His heavy heart
could not answer.
“Do you know these witnesses?”
“Sure.” said Lizzie confidently. “They’re all swells. They come down
with him when he come to be married. I never seen ’em again, but they
was real jolly an’ nice. They give me a bokay of real roses an’ a
bracelet made like a snake with green glass eyes.”
“And the minister? Which is his church?”
“I’m sure I donno,” said Lizzie. “I never ast. He Come along an’ was ez
jolly ez enny of ’em. He drank more’n all of ’em put together. He was
awful game fer a preacher.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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