Americans -- England -- Fiction; West Country (England) -- Fiction
"There's your worthy name also, and that of Grace Sibella
Malherb. You knew not that she was called Sibella too? An
old family name on the mother's side. She was a Carew and my
mother was also a Carew. But this family history won't interest
you?"
"Not now."
"Well, having determined to see you married to my Grace,
I sought the means. There are but three ways in this kingdom
to be married, and all demand the co-operation of the Church.
We lack a purely civil rite, but there is a talk of establishing
such. First comes marriage by Banns, which necessitates three
weeks' notice in a place of worship. This I tried myself, with
results not unfamiliar to you. 'Twas for the best. Marriage by
ordinary license requires but a fifteen days' residence in the parish
where the ceremony is to take place. Doctors' Commons can
supply this document at a moment's notice, or the Bishop of the
Diocese will do so through his Chancellor and Surrogates. Another
glass of wine? You look as if you wanted it. Now this method
is equally out of place, because we cannot entertain you here for
the next fifteen days, much as we should like to do so. The
secret of Grace's whereabouts must be hidden no more. There
remains marriage by Special License--a ceremony permission to
perform which can only be given by the Archbishop of Canterbury
himself. It allows the contracting parties to be married
anywhere they please: in a church, or on a high road, or within
a private dwelling, or at the top of Dartmoor. A priest of the
Church of England and two witnesses complete the entire
necessary conditions. How witnesses can witness a wedding in
the dark is doubtful; but they must do their best, and trust to
their ears if not their eyes.
"That document, beaming upon you there, is the Special
License which will permit you to marry Miss Malherb. I have
friends at Court. His Grace was easily convinced of the
propriety of my application. And fate favoured me, for he loves
your country with a Christian charity very proper in a primate.
It was enough for him that you desired instantly to return home
after your long incarceration, and that your future wife was both
eager and willing to accompany you. Feel it, read it, touch it!
Has it not the very odour of sanctity? All this have I done for
you and for her. You see, I'm not quite the rascal you thought
me.
"'I never bark when out of season,
I never bite without a reason.'
Indeed, barking and biting are quite foreign to my nature."
Stark stared at the Special License without speaking.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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