There was a stir outside, not merely because the bride's carriage had arrived followed by those of the bridesmaids and Fru Wingaard, but because the coachman in grey livery wanted to drive up to the church door, which seemed impossible. Those in front pressed back to make room, but those behind declined to be pushed against, and exerted their strength, till several people were forced up against the carriage windows. Shrieks, angry words, and orders ensued, and alarm inside the carriages. Engel put his head out of the window, but no one listened to him, and he got out of the carriage. The police were at hand, and eagerly cleared a way for the wealthy magnate, while the bride alighted, as did the bridesmaids; they arranged themselves and walked forward, not where the others had passed; the crowd made way for them in all directions. Her red-gold hair crowned with myrtle, the bride resembled the most exquisite work of an English Academician. The lines of her face were regular and of an English type, the colouring soft, the skin very white; the shoulders rather sloping, beautiful--the figure that of a soft delicate young girl. She walked forward with her head bent, not looking at any one, her hand resting lightly on her father's arm; just below the level of his order of St. Olaf could be seen her diamond ornament, though only by those just before or above them. An old-fashioned brooch, a valuable one, which was recognised as having been a favourite of her mother, secured the flowers in front of her dress. A puff of wind raised her veil just as they came up the steps; it streamed out into the face of the sailor, but did not touch it; a delicate perfume was spread in all directions. How relieved Engel felt as he stood inside the door! That had been the worst journey he had ever made in his life. Still he had not hurried; unobtrusive, quiet, benign, he had walked forward; he kept his eye fixed on one point--was that the needle's eye which must be passed through? His handsome regular features looked as though they had never been disturbed by any idea inconsistent with honourable habits, or the good counsel of elders and superiors--nay, as though he had never had knowledge of such things. His had always been a God-fearing house; three generations had endowed charities. The very perfume which now hung round them might well have come from Palestine. And after all there had been no danger. "We are in church now." The organ pealed under the powerful touch of the drunken Swabian; its full accords blended with Engel's thoughts, and seemed to restore him to himself.