The organist, who had not seen what had gone before, but who, after the first hymn, had expected to hear the words of the service, rose when the movement became general. What was it? He saw the bride out in the aisle, the others still in the chancel, the whole congregation standing up. "_Aber das war kurios! Wird's nichts daraus? Ho--ho! Ich hab' meine zwei tausend_." And he began to play the organ. They tried to stop him, but he answered, "What haf they don with the brite? The music shall do her goot." Hardly had the bellringers heard the organ before they thought, "Now they are married," and began to ring the bells. Hardly had those on board the saluting vessel heard the bells before the guns began to thunder. They were to continue firing until the bride's carriage drew up at the door of the house, and as they could not see this from the ship, a signal was to be made to them. In the general confusion this was forgotten, so on they went--bang, bang, bang! It seemed to them at last that they had fired a great many rounds, but that was other people's affair, so they thundered away as long as they had any powder; for they also had been drinking considerably. All this caused great amusement. The affair changed from the sublime to the ridiculous. First among the crowd who left the church amid the pealing of the organ, the clash of the bells, the thunder of the cannon; their laughter was taken up in increasing measure by those in the market-place, and from there it spread over the whole town. In the memory of man there had not been so much laughter at one time as now resounded from the river banks to the most remote houses on the mountain, or out on the Point. The country people went laughing home amid the roar of the cannon, and wherever they came there was laughter. A gala day in town and harbour. Thunder of cannon and flutter of flags, flags and cannon--and laughter! At first the bridal party looked at each other with horror; by ones and twos they made their way out of the church, but the laughter outside was infectious; when they got home and read the _Spectator_, they laughed too. The Town Bailiff himself laughed! Up the avenue walked Nora and Rendalen. The cannon thundered, and they turned round and looked at the flags flying in the town and in the harbour--and laughed. Karl Vangen hurried past them on his long legs; Tora was at Niels Hansen's. She was terribly exhausted, but calm; he was going to fetch the carriage--and off he went. No less than fifteen girls passed them at once, going up to Fru Rendalen; another large group was following them. They did not walk, they raced, and were quickly past. A little later Fru Rendalen came out on to the steps to meet her son and Nora: they were just the opposite of every one else; they stopped every moment. Now, just when she wanted them so much. How could they forget her? All at once she pulled off her spectacles and wiped them. Then put them on slowly.