For Chester fears at the last moment some lackey or the Countess de Pariza may send some word of what is going on to Sandvliet or Lillo, or something unexpected may mar his plan and he knows if he loses Hermoine now he loses her forever. A minute after he whispers exultingly: “See, the house is en fête and lighted up; she is ready for me, my bride!” Then speaking a few words of caution to Corker, the long boat comes alongside and that sturdy seaman gets into her stern sheets and takes command of her. Two minutes after Guy touches the landing stage. “Under that casement, musicians, and play there a soft Venetian serenade,” he whispers to the leader of the Italians, pointing to the great oriel window blazing with lights. “Si, gracioso, Señor,” the leader of these unfortunate devils replies; for Guy has hired them for his festival with princely hand, feeling himself financially a Midas. “A pleasant evening, Señor, a pleasant evening!” And the happy Italian kisses his hand to his liberal patron and goes with his serenaders to meet what fate has prepared for them. To this Guy answers nothing, but springs upon the landing and whispers to his cockswain: “Have the boat ready to start on the instant,” then says to the priest: “I pray thee come with me, holy father.” So the two go up the stairs on to the dyke and walk along the path by the little garden toward the mansion, that is scarce a hundred yards away. “It is a summer night,” says Guy, “Father Anastasius, would you mind taking a seat among these trees until I summon you? It is the sacrament of marriage I shall ask at your hands, and would have word with the lady before I bring you to her.” “At your pleasure, Captain,” replies the man of God. “I can tell my beads for you and offer up prayers for your wedded state as well under the sky as in a palace.” Then, unarmed save by the rapier common to cavaliers and the keen stiletto he always wears in his breast, for he does not wish to frighten his love by undue display of weapons, Chester raps on the door of the house. This is promptly opened by Alida, who whispers: “She is there, my lord, waiting for you, and oh, so happy! Take the compliments of one who loves you both and is your slave.” The Moorish girl would kiss his hand, but he is too eager for this, and steps into the room with the great oriel window, to find it lighted by perfumed lamps and decorated with flowers, ribbons and hanging vines, as if for a gorgeous festival. Then, from the oriel window where she has been looking for him, sweeps a dazzling vision of radiant beauty, a glorious beam upon her face, of love and happiness complete, and he whispers to her: “My bride, thou art too beautiful for earth!”