Ingot presented the Judge to the would—be bride and bridegroom. “You wish to be married-you are Mr. Grier?” said Judge Grimshaw.
“That’s me and I’m ready,” said Carnac. “Get on with the show. What’s the first thing?”
“Well, the regular thing is to sign some forms, stating age, residence, etc., and here they are all ready. Brought ’em along with me. Most unusual form of ceremony, but it’ll do. It’s all right. Here are the papers to sign.”
Carnac hastily scratched in the needed information, and Luzanne doing the same, the magistrate pocketed the papers.
“Now we can perform the ceremony,” said the Judge. “Mr. Larue, you go down there with the young lady and bring her up in form, and Mr. Carnac Grier waits here.”
Larue went away with Luzanne, and presently turned, and she, with her arm in his, came forward. Carnac stood waiting with a smile on his face, for it seemed good acting. When Luzanne came, her father handed her over, and the marriage ceremony proceeded. Presently it concluded, and Grimshaw, who had had more drink than was good for him, wound up the ceremony with the words: “And may the Lord have mercy on you!”
Every one laughed, Carnac kissed the bride, and the Judge handed her the marriage certificate duly signed. It was now Carnac’s duty to pay in the usual way for the ceremony, and he handed the Judge ten dollars; and Grimshaw rolled away towards the village, Ingot having also given him ten.
“That’s as good a piece of acting as I’ve ever seen,” said Larue with a grin. “It beats Coquelin and Henry Irving.”
“I didn’t think there was much in it,” said Carnac, laughing, “though it was real enough to cost me ten dollars. One has to pay for one’s fun. But I got a wife cheap at the price, and I didn’t pay for the wedding ring.”
“No, the ring was mine,” said Larue. “I had it a long time. It was my engagement ring, and I want it back now.”
Luzanne took it off her finger—it was much too large—and gave it to him. “It’s easy enough to get another,” she said in a queer voice.
“You did the thing in style, young man,” said Ingot to Carnac with a nod.
“I’ll do it better when it’s the real thing,” said Carnac. “I’ve had my rehearsal now, and it seemed almost real.”
“It was almost real,” said Ingot, with his head turned away from Carnac, but he winked at Larue and caught a furtive look from Luzanne’s eye.
“I think we’d better have another hour hereabouts, then get back to New York,” said Larue. “There’s a circus in the village—let us go to that.”
At the village, they did the circus, called out praise to the clown, gave the elephant some buns, and at five o’clock started back to New York. Arrived at New York, they went to a hotel off Broadway for dinner, and Carnac signed names in the hotel register as “Mr. and Mrs. Carnac Grier.” When he did it, he saw a furtive glance pass from Luzanne’s eyes to her father. It was disconcerting to him. Presently the two adjourned to the sitting-room, and there he saw that the table was only laid for two. That opened his eyes. The men had disappeared and he and Luzanne were alone. She was sitting on a sofa near the table, showing to good advantage. She was composed, while Carnac was embarrassed. Carnac began to take a grip on himself.
The waiter entered. “When shall I serve dinner, sir?” he said.
Carnac realized that the dinner had been ordered by the two men, and he said quietly: “Don’t serve it for a half-hour yet—not till I ring, please. Make it ready then. There’s no hurry. It’s early.”
The waiter bowed and withdrew with a smile, and Carnac turned to Luzanne. She smiled, got up, came over, laid a hand on his arm, and said: “It’s quiet and nice here, Carnac dear,” and she looked up ravishingly in his face.
“It’s too quiet and it’s not at all nice,” he suddenly replied. “Your father and Ingot have gone. They’ve left us alone on purpose. This is a dirty game and I’m not going to play it any longer. I’ve had enough of it. I’ve had my fill. I’m going now. Come, let’s go together.”
She looked a bit smashed and overdone. “The dinner!” she said in confusion.
“I’ll pay for that. We won’t wait any longer. Come on at once, please.”
She put on her things coolly, and he noticed a savage stealthiness as she pushed the long pins through her hat and hair. He left the room. Outside the hotel, Carnac held out his hand.
“Good night and good-bye, Luzanne,” he said huskily. “You can get home alone, can’t you?”
She laughed a little, then she said: “I guess so. I’ve lived in New York some years. But you and I are married, Carnac, and you ought to take me to your home.”
There was something devilish in her smile now. Then the whole truth burst upon Carnac. “Married—married! When did I marry you? Good God!”
“You married me this afternoon after lunch at Shipton. I have the certificate and I mean to hold you to it.”
“You mean to hold me to it—a real marriage to-day at Shipton! You and your father and Ingot tricked me into this.”
“He was a real Judge, and it was a real marriage.”
“It is a fraud, and I’ll unmask it,” Carnac declared in anger.
“It would be difficult to prove. You signed our names in the hotel register as Mr. and Mrs. Carnac Grier. I mean to stick to that name—Mrs. Carnac Grier. I’ll make you a good wife, Carnac—do believe it.
“I’ll believe nothing but the worst of you ever. I’ll fight the thing out, by God!”
She shook her head and smiled. “I meant you to marry me, when you saved my life from the streetcar. I never saw but one man I wanted to marry, and you are that man, Carnac. You wouldn’t ask me, so I made you marry me. You could go farther and fare worse. Come, take me home—take me home, my love. I want you to love me.”
“You little devil!” Carnac declared. “I’d rather cut my own throat. I’m going to have a divorce. I’m going to teach you and the others a lesson you won’t forget.”
“There isn’t a jury in the United States you could convince after what you’ve done. You’ve made it impossible. Go to Judge Grimshaw and see what he will say. Go and ask the hotel people and see what they will say. You’re my husband, and I mean you shall live with me, and I’ll love you better than any woman on earth can love you. … Won’t you?” She held out her hand.
With an angry exclamation, Carnac refused it, and then she suddenly turned on her heel, slipped round a corner and was gone.
Carnac was dumbfounded. He did not know what to do. He went dazedly home, and slept little that night. The next day he went out to Shipton and saw Judge Grimshaw and told him the whole tale. The Judge shook his head.
“It’s too tall a story. Why, you went through the ceremony as if it was the real thing, signed the papers, paid my fee, and kissed the bride. You could not get a divorce on such evidence.
