He arose also, not in the least disturbed at his reception, and bowing low before her, said in tones of earnest admiration: “My bride, my queen, I am overwhelmed with so much loveliness, and my heart exults with pride over your exquisite beauty.” Still he heaved a little sigh as his mind wandered involuntarily to the fair Enid. The hour had arrived, the clergyman was waiting, and Ralph offered Dora his arm, saying, imperatively: “Come!” “Go, and I will follow; but I will not touch you until I am obliged to,” she said, icily. Somewhat crest-fallen he obeyed, turned, and led the way from the room, followed by the three sorrowful women. They passed through several brilliantly lighted corridors, and at length paused before a wide entrance, draped with heavy curtains, before which stood two pages. There was a confused murmur of voices within, as if a large company were assembled, and waiting for the appearance of the bridal party. Dora gasped once or twice, but made no other sign to reveal the struggles of her almost breaking heart. Without a word Ralph stepped to her side, and taking her hand, drew it within his arm; then making a sign to the pages, the curtains were suddenly swept aside, revealing the magnificent and brilliantly lighted drawing-room, into which Robert was conducted on the night of his capture. A murmur of admiration greeted the ears of the party as they thus stood revealed to the company within. At one end of the room there had been erected an altar, over which was a canopy of white velvet looped with gold cord and tassels, a most graceful and elegant affair. The floor of the altar was likewise carpeted with white velvet, with a delicate vine of gold trailing over it. Thither Ralph proceeded, leading his fair and lovely bride. They reached it, ascended the steps, and placed themselves in position, waiting for the clergyman to speak the words which should make them one. He arose, an old, gray-headed man, with a sad, pale face, and who glanced with compassion at the white, rigid countenance of Dora. He knew she was an unwilling bride, and his heart ached in sympathy for the anguish so plainly stamped upon her features, and he rebelled against performing such a mockery in the sight of Heaven. But he was powerless, for he himself was a prisoner within those vaults, and had received his orders to pronounce them man and wife in defiance of all opposition, or his own life would pay the forfeit. The assembled guests consisted of about fifty persons in all, and comprised twenty-five of the band of smugglers, most of the captives, and the servants. All were clad befitting the occasion, and conspicuous among the company were the seven lovely girls before alluded to, all of whom were robed in spotless white. Near the altar, and with a smile of fiendish exultation upon his evil face, stood Squire Moulton.