Old Roger was dragged from his grave with the white slave, whom some of the most disaffected changed into a black man. Even the Ralstons came in for a share, and the Vulture, with its smuggling captain and crew, were fished up from the watery beds off the Banks of Newfoundland and paraded before the public. This gossip, however, was put down by the majority, who confined their remarks to the Percys. Clarice rather enjoyed knowing that everybody was discussing her and her affairs. The favored few were in a flutter of excitement and expectancy. Those who had not been sure of an invitation and consequently were not ready with the wedding garment were greatly agitated. Trips were made to New Bedford and Boston, fashions discussed, goods priced, dressmakers interviewed and employed, last year’s finery looked over to see if it would do, and the question often asked of each other when they met “What are you going to wear?” Miss Hansford knew exactly what she and Elithe were to wear. There had been no attempt on the part of Clarice to leave the latter out, and two cards lay conspicuously on the centre-table in Miss Hansford’s best room. Folded carefully in the trunk in which they had come from Boston were the gray silk and the white muslin, Elithe’s dress and her aunt’s. Once after the invitations came they were taken out and tried on to make sure everything about them was right. Elithe told her aunt she looked like a queen, and Miss Hansford thought Elithe looked like an angel. Their dresses were ready and satisfactory. They had nothing to do but to wait for the great event, written about in the papers and anticipated by every one in Oak City. And while the gossip went on and the interest increased, over the mountains and across the prairies of the West a train Eastward bound was speeding on its way and coming nearer and nearer to its destination and the scene of the tragedy which was to electrify the surrounding country and change the marriage bells into a funeral dirge. CHAPTER XXIV. THE SHADOW BEGINS TO FALL. It was the Saturday before the wedding, which was to take place on Thursday of the next week. Many of the guests from a distance had arrived. The Ralston House was full, Miss Hansford’s cottage was full, as were some of the other cottages engaged for the occasion. The Harbor Hotel, as the largest and most expensive and most fashionable house in Oak City, was crowded to its utmost capacity. “Positively no more room, if you take a shelf in a closet,” the distracted clerks said to the mob of people who came as usual in the afternoon boat clamoring for accommodations. Those who had families and were expected for Sunday were easily disposed of, while the rest were turned away. There was a good deal of fault-finding and some swearing among the disappointed ones, as they left the hotel, not knowing where to go next.