Lauriston’s nervousness, increased by the sight of the figure he felt sure he recognised as that of Rahas, was so great that he became the victim of what he believed to be a most strange delusion of the ear. It seemed to him that every word of the prayers of the service was repeated, as the clergyman uttered it, in a soft, distinct tone, away in the body of the church behind them. As soon as the service was over, the bridegroom turned round with machine-like rapidity, and was just in time to see the figure he had noticed go down the further end of the south aisle and out at the door. Although the man wore a European overcoat and carried in his hand an English hat, George felt more than ever convinced that it was Rahas. He was accompanied by a woman, of whose appearance Lauriston could only note two details: she wore dark clothing and was small of stature. It was not Mrs. Ellis, certainly. Sundran? He thought not. While the young man stood, as if transfixed, staring after these two disappearing figures with straining eyes, unmindful of the touch of his newly-made wife on his arm, Mr. Angelo’s precise tones, close at his ear, roused him from his stupefaction. “Come, Mr. Lauriston,” he said in a low but rather peremptory tone, “we have to go into the vestry.” The old lawyer’s face was, as usual, impassive; but it occurred to Lauriston, a man rendered by his profession observant of details, that the steadiness with which Mr. Angelo ignored his persistent stare at the side-door argued that he was himself aware of the objects of interest there. He said nothing, however, but followed the clergyman into the vestry, and signed his name in the register. “Come, now it’s your turn, little one,” he said tenderly to Nouna, who had slipped from his arm and was standing very quietly beside Mr. Angelo. She glanced up at the old lawyer, who gave her his arm with great ceremony, led her to the desk, and turned immediately to the bridegroom. “You saw, or thought you saw some one you knew among the congregation, I fancy,” said he in his quiet dry manner. Lauriston looked up quickly from the page over which he was bending. “Yes, I certainly did think so, in fact I am almost sure of it,” he said, turning to notice the old man’s expression. “I imagined that to be the case from your expression as we left the altar,” said the lawyer, keeping Lauriston’s eyes fixed by the steady gaze of his own. “Who do you think it was?” “I feel sure it was Rahas,” said George in a low voice, still watching the face of the lawyer, who now took Nouna’s place to sign the register as a witness to the marriage. “Did you see him too?” The old gentleman did not answer at once; he was bending low over the open page before him to finish his signature with a careful flourish. When he had done this, he placed the blotting-paper over it, put his arm through that of the bridegroom, and moved away with him.