Detective and mystery stories; Fiction; Love stories
As I thanked him and turned away, I caught the cry of newsboys down the
street, and in a moment they were among the crowd and were selling their
papers right and left. Both the _Leader_ and the _Journal_, stirred to
unusual enterprise by the day's events, had evidently made use of the
largest and blackest type at their command to add emphasis to their
headlines. I bought copies of both papers, and hurried on to the
Sheridan, for I was becoming disagreeably conscious that I had eaten no
lunch that day. I found the hotel without difficulty, and after
registering, sat down in the office and opened the papers. The
reporters, no doubt, would save me a lot of trouble.
The scene at the church had been even more sensational than I had
pictured it, for evidently the Lawrences were a more important family
socially than I had imagined, and the list of guests had been
correspondingly large. They had gathered, had gossiped, had admired the
decorations and criticised each other's gowns; a murmur of satisfaction
had greeted the whispered announcement that the groom and his best man
were waiting in the study; the organist played a selection or two and
then stopped, expectant, ready to begin the wedding march. The ringing
of bells and blowing of whistles announced the noon hour, but the bride
had not arrived. Then, from somewhere, came the sudden whisper that
something was wrong. A shiver ran through the crowd as two carriages
drew up at the church door. Heads were craned and a sigh of relief ran
around as the bridesmaids were seen to alight. But where was the bride?
There was no bride! The bride had disappeared!
Uneasiness changed to wonder, wonder to astonishment, as the details
were gradually gleaned from the exclamations of the excited young women;
tongues began to wag, innocently at first, then, inevitably, with a
touch of malice, for the bride's action had been a direct affront to all
these people. Many of them, usually well-bred, waited in the hope of
catching a glimpse of the groom's face as he hurried away. Both he and
Mrs. Lawrence had been protected from the reporters, but the decorator
and some of the Lawrence servants had evidently made the most of their
opportunities, for the papers had the details of the disappearance
substantially as I had learned them. And nobody had been found who had
seen the bride leave the house, or had caught a glimpse of her during
her flight.
That was the gist of the information contained in the papers. Both of
them gave space to much speculation as to the reason for this remarkable
event, but plainly both were wholly at sea and had no theory to fit the
facts. So, finally, I folded them up, put them in my pocket, made a
hasty toilet, and went in to dinner. That over, I again sought the
reading-room and lighted a reflective cigar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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