By the Light of the Soul Part 25

"What is it?" asked Wollaston, in a burst of anger. "I call it a pretty pickle we are in, for my part. Ten chances to one, Mr. Edgham has got the baby back home safe and sound by this time, anyway, and here we are, here is Maria!"

"There ain't but one thing you can do," said Gladys. Her tone was forcible. She was full of the vulgar shrewdness of a degenerate race, for the old ac.u.men of that race had sharpened her wits.

"What! in Heaven's name?" cried Wollaston.

The three had been slowly walking along, and had stopped near a church, which was lighted. As they were talking the lights went out.

A thin stream of people ceased issuing from the open doors. A man in a clerical dress approached them, walking quite rapidly. He was evidently bound, from the trend of his steps, to a near-by house, which was his residence.

"Git married," said Gladys, abruptly. Then, before the others realized what she was doing, she darted in front of the approaching clergyman. "They want to git married," said she.

The clergyman stopped and stared at her, then at the couple beyond, who were quite speechless with astonishment. He was inconceivably young for his profession. He was small, and had a round, rollicking face, which he was constantly endeavoring to draw down into lines of asceticism.

"Who wants to get married?" asked the clergyman.

"Them two," replied Gladys, succinctly. She pointed magisterially at Wollaston and Maria.

Wollaston was tall and manly looking for his age, Maria's dress touched the ground. The clergyman had not, at the moment, a doubt as to their suitable age. He was not a brilliant young man, naturally.

He had been pushed through college and into his profession by wealthy relatives, and, moreover, with his stupidity, he had a certain spirit of recklessness and sense of humor which gave life a spice for him.

"Want to get married, eh?" he said.

Then Wollaston spoke. "No, we do not want to get married," he said, positively. Then he said to Gladys, "I wish you would mind your own business."

But he had to cope with the revival of a wonderful feminine wit of a fine old race in Gladys. "I should think you would be plum ashamed of yourself," she said, severely, "after you have got that poor girl in here; and if she stays and you ain't married, she'll git talked about."

The clergyman approached Wollaston and Maria. Maria had begun to cry.

She was trembling from head to foot with fear and confusion.

Wollaston looked sulky and angry.

"Is that true--did you induce this girl to come to New York to be married?" he inquired, and his own boyish voice took on severe tones.

He was very strong in moral reform.

"No, I did not," replied Wollaston.

"He did," said Gladys. "She'll get talked about if she ain't, too, and the last train has went, and we've got to stay in New York all night."

"Where do you come from?" inquired the young clergyman, and his tone was more severe still.

"From Edgham, New Jersey," replied Gladys.

"Who are you?" inquired the clergyman.

"I ain't no account," replied Gladys. "All our folks git talked about, but she's different."

"I suppose you are her maid," said the clergyman, noting with quick eye the difference in the costumes of the two girls.

"Call it anything you wanter," said Gladys, indifferently. "I ain't goin' to have her talked about, nohow."

"Come, Maria," said Wollaston, but Maria did not respond even to his strong, nervous pull on her arm. She sobbed convulsively.

"No, that girl does not go one step, young man," said the clergyman.

He advanced closely, and laid a hand on Maria's other arm. Although small in body and mind, he evidently had muscle. "Come right in the house," said he, and Maria felt his hand on her arm like steel. She yielded, and began following him, Wollaston in vain trying to hold her back.

Gladys went behind Wollaston and pushed vigorously. "You git right in there, the way he says, Wollaston Lee," said she. "You had ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Before the boy well knew what he was doing he found himself in a small reception-room lined with soberly bound books. All that was clear in his mind was that he could not hinder Maria from entering, and that she must not go into the house alone with Gladys and this strange man.

A man had been standing in the doorway of the house, waiting the entrance of the clergyman. He was evidently a servant, and his master beckoned him.

"Call Mrs. Jerrolds, Williams," he said.

"What is your name?" he asked Maria, who was sobbing more wildly than ever.

"Her name is Maria Edgham," replied Gladys, "and his is Wollaston Lee. They both live in Edgham."

"How old are you?" the clergyman asked of Wollaston; but Gladys cut in again.

"He's nineteen, and she's goin' on," she replied, shamelessly.

"We are neither of us," began Wollaston, whose mind was in a whirl of anger of confusion.

But the clergyman interrupted him. "I am ashamed of you, young man,"

he said, "luring an innocent young girl to New York and then trying to lie out of your responsibility."

"I am not," began Wollaston again; but then the man who had stood in the door entered with a portly woman in a black silk tea-gown. She looked as if she had been dozing, or else was naturally slow-witted.

Her eyes, under heavy lids, were dull; her mouth had a sleepy, although good-natured pout, like a child's, between her fat cheeks.

"I am sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Jerrolds," said the clergyman, "but I need you and Williams for witnesses." Then he proceeded.

Neither Wollaston nor Maria were ever very clear in their minds how it was done. Both had thought marriage was a more complicated proceeding. Neither was entirely sure of having said anything.

Indeed, Wollaston was afterwards quite positive that Gladys Mann answered nearly all the clergyman's questions; but at all events, the first thing he heard distinctly was the clergyman's p.r.o.nouncing him and Maria man and wife. Then the clergyman, who was zealous to the point of fanaticism, and who honestly considered himself to have done an exceedingly commendable thing, invited them to have some wedding-cake, which he kept ready for such emergencies, and some coffee, but Wollaston replied with a growl of indignation and despair. This time Maria followed his almost brutally spoken command to follow him, and the three went out of the house.

"See that you treat your wife properly, young man," the clergyman called out after him, in a voice half jocular, half condemnatory, "or there will be trouble."

Wollaston growled an oath, the first which he had ever uttered, under his breath, and strode on. He had released his hold on Maria's arm.

Ahead of them, a block distant, was an Elevated station, and Maria, who seemed to suddenly recover her faculties, broke into a run for it.

"Where be you goin'?" called out Gladys.

"I am going down to the Jersey City station, quick," replied Maria, in a desperate voice.

"I thought you'd go to a hotel. There ain't no harm, now you're married, you know," said Gladys, "and then we could have some supper.

I'm awful hungry. I ain't eat a thing sence noon."

"I am going right down to the station," repeated Maria.

"The last train has went. What's the use?"