LADY OF THE ISLE. CHAPTER I. AN INTERRUPTED WEDDING. All! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, that but an hour before Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness! And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs, Which ne’er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise!—_Byron._ It was the first of May, the marriage day of the Viscount Montressor, of Montressor Castle, Dorsetshire, and Estelle, only daughter and heiress of Sir Parke Morelle, Hyde Hall, Devonshire. A glorious morning! the cloudless, blue sky smiled down upon the green hills and dewy dales and deep woods of Devon; and the park around the Hall was all alive and musical with the joyous songs of birds, and the merry laughter of young men and maidens gathering to celebrate their May-day festival, and to do honor to the marriage of their landlord’s daughter. The elm-shaded, winding avenue that led from the highway to the house, was arched at each terminus by a mammoth wreath of flowers, and many were the carriages that passed under them, on their way to assist at the wedding; and these contained only the bridesmaids, and the nearest friends and relatives of the family, whose relationship or position gave them the right to attend the bride to church;—for a still more numerous party had been invited to meet her at the altar. The villagers and tenants, grouped about under the shade of the great old trees, or wandering over the greensward on either side of the grand avenue, watched these equipages as they rolled on, commenting—as usual— “That is Sir William Welworth’s carriage—he is the bride’s uncle by her mother.” “Who don’t know that?—Hush! my eyes! lend me a rumberrell, Joe, or I shall be dazed blind, along o’ looking at this turn out! Whose is it? since you know everything.” “That?—that’s Lord Dazzleright’s—the great cove’s as made a fortin’ and _riz by the law_—(not at a rope’s end, though, as _you’ll_ rise one of these days, Bill, my lad, if you don’t keep out o’ the squire’s preserves)—but by reading and pleading, and keeping on the right, do you see, of the powers that be; until he got himself made a Baron of;—which people _do_ say he’ll get upon the woolsack yet,” replied the gamekeeper, Joe, as the splendid equipage of the new member of the house of peers dashed past them. “Yes; but what does he _he_ do here?” inquired the laborer, Bill. “He’s the god-father of the bride, you know, besides being a bachelor without children, I mean sons-and-heirs.” “Here comes somethin’ like a huss—my granny! how solemncolly! who’s comin’ to a funeral?”