Catanaugh jumped like a deer that hears the crackle of a twig behind it. Here in the deep brazen voice of the marriage bells ringing out in the belfry above him he thought he heard the answer his incantation had forced from the white man's Okee. But the voice was so terrible, so loud, that, forgetting the shaman's injunctions, forgetting everything but his need to escape, he rushed to the door, unbolted it frantically and ran, still pursued by the "him, barn, boum" till he reached the fort, where the frightened sentries, who had no orders to keep any Indian from _leaving_ the town, let the masked figure through the gates. Dr. James Buck, who with Dr. Whitaker, was to perform the ceremony, arrived at the church just as the wedding party was starting from the other end of the town. His foot hit against something. He stooped and picked up a rattle and his fingers were covered with brown dust. Hastily seizing a broom which stood in the vestry-room, he swept the tobacco down the aisle and into a corner. The curious rattle he hid with the replaced broom, to be investigated later. Then he took his stand in the chancel, where Dr. Whitaker soon joined him, and through the open door the two clergymen watched their flock approach. Most of them were men, cavaliers as finely dressed, if their garments were somewhat faded, as though they were to sit in Westminster Abbey; soldiers in leathern jerkins; bakers, masons, carpenters, with freshly washed face and hands, in their Sunday garments of fustian and minus workaday aprons; and the few women were in figured tabbies and damasks. Now when the congregation had filled every seat and were lined up against the walls, a number of Indians, all relatives of Pocahontas, slipped in and stood silently with faces that seemed not alive except for the keenness of their curious eyes. Them through the doorway came Pocahontas and old Opechisco and Nautauquas. A sudden feeling of the wonder of this marriage overcame Alexander Whitaker. This Indian maiden who was a creature of the woods, shy and proud as a wild animal, was to be married by him to an Englishman with centuries of civilization behind him. What boded it for them both and for their races? Then with love for the maiden whom he had baptized and with faith in his heart, he listened while Dr. Buck began, until he himself asked in a loud, clear voice: "Rebecca, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband?" After the feast was over the bride said to her husband, using his Christian name shyly for the first time: "John, wilt thou walk with me into the forest a little?" And Rolfe, nothing loath to escape the noisy crowd, rose to go with her. "Why dost thou care to come here?" he asked when they found themselves beyond the causeway in the woods flecked with the white of the innumerable dogwood trees.