The Unseen Bridegroom; Or, Wedded For a WeekFleming, May Agnes
General
The Unseen Bridegroom; Or, Wedded For a Week
Fleming, May Agnes
Fiction
The carriage seemed suddenly to reel, a thousand lights flashed before
her eyes, a roar like the roar of many waters surged in her ears, a
deathly sickness and coldness crept over her, and with a gasping sob she
slipped back, fainting away for the first time in her life.
CHAPTER XV.
THE MAN IN THE MASK.
Dizzily Mollie opened her eyes. Confused, bewildered, she strove to sit
up and catch her breath in broken gasps.
"So sorry, Mollie," said an odious voice in her ear. "Quite shocked, I
am sure, to have you faint; but you've not been insensible half an hour.
It wasn't my fault, you know. You would scream, you would struggle, you
would exhaust yourself! And what is the consequence of all this
excitement? Why, you pop over in a dead swoon."
Mollie raised herself up, still dazed and confused. She put her hand to
her forehead and strove to recall her drifting senses.
They were still bowling along at a sharp pace over a muddy country road;
still fell the rain; still howled the wind; still pitch darkness wrapped
all without. Were they going on forever? Was it a reality or a horrible
nightmare?
"We are almost at our journey's end," said the man, soothingly. "Come,
cheer up, Cricket. I love you, and I won't hurt a hair of your head."
"Where are we?" Mollie faintly asked.
"Rattling over a beastly country road," answered her companion, "under
a sky as black as Erebus, and in a down-pour that threatens a second
flood. There's the sea. We're down by the sad sea waves now, Mollie."
Mollie listened. Above the roar of the elemental strife she could hear
the deep and mighty bass of the roaring sea.
"We will be there in ten minutes more," said the man, briskly.
"Where is there?" inquired Mollie, in the same faint accent.
"Home, my pretty wife--our cottage by the sea, and all that, you know.
Don't droop, my charming Cricket. We'll be as happy together as the days
are long. I love you with all my soul--I swear it by all that's good and
gracious; and I'll make you the best husband ever bright-eyed little
girl had. Trust me, Mollie, and cheer up. Yoicks! Here we are."
The carriage stopped with a jerk that precipitated Mollie into her
captor's arms; but, with an angry push, she was free again directly.
The man opened the door and sprung out. Wind howling, rain tailing,
trees surging, sea roaring, and a big dog barking, made the black night
hideous.
"Down, Tiger! Down, you big, noisy brute!" cried the man. "Here, Mollie,
let me help you out."
There was no escape--Mollie let him. The salt breath of the sea blew in
her face--its awful thunder on the shore drowned all lesser noises.
Through the blackness of the black night she could see the blacker
outline of a house, from one or two windows of which faint lights
shone. Tossing trees surrounded it--a high board fence and a tall,
padlocked gate inclosed it.
"All right, Mollie," the man said. "This is home!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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