Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-06-19
CHAPTER XIV.

A BRIDAL PARTY AND A LITTLE SURPRISE.
A week passed away. The shadow of the
caravan no longer fell on the green meadow
by the lake, and the struggling population of
Aberglyn, unsuspicious of foul play, had
already forgotten both the caravan and the
owner.
And if facts were to be taken into con-
sideration in estimating the extent of her
memory, Matt, too, had forgotten. It was
common talk now that she, the granlmarless
castaway, the neglected protegee of William
Jones, was to be married to the master of
the great bousel Nay, the very day was
fixed; and that very day was only two sun
rises distant, and Monk, Of Monkhurst, had
in his pocket a special license, which he had
procured, at an expenditure Of five pounds,
from London.
Doubtless, in any other more populous To-
cality the affair would have occasioned no
little scandal and many o1ninous shakings of
the head but the inhabitants were few and
FAR between, and had little or no time for
idle gossiping. The coast-guardsmen and
their wives were the only individuals who
exhibited any interest, and even their excite
ment was faint and evanescent, like the
movements of q fish in shallow and IN
wholesome pool.
But the really extraordinary part of the
whole affair was the conduct of Matt herself.
Apparently quite cured of her former repug
nance to a union with Monk, she made no OBJ
lection whatever to the performance Of the
ceremony, and laughed merrily when she was
Informed that the day was fixed. Monk, in
his grim, taciturn way, was jubilant. He
came to and fro constantly, and assumed the
manners of lover. Had he been less bent
on one particular object two things might
have struck him as curious: ~ That Matt,
though she had consented to marry him,
steadfastly refused to wear his ring or accept
any other present; and ~ that she still
sh1unk with persistent and ill-disguised dis
like from his caresses.
1t was now late in the month of August,
and the weather was broken by troublous
winds and fretful moon. For several weeks
William Jones, in his mortal terror, had re-
Trained from visiting the cave; he had never
set his foot therein, indeed, since the night of
the assassination. At last he could bear the
suspense no longer.
So late one windy and rainy night he stole
forth with his unlit lantern, and fought his
way in the teeth of half gale to the familiar
place, which he found, however, with some
little difficulty. He was neither superstitious
be was prey to na1neless terrors. Every gust
of wind went through his heart like knife;
every sound of wind or sea made that same
heart stop and listen. Only supreme greed
and miserly anxiety led him on. But at last
he gained the cave, within which there was
sound as Of clashing legions. clarions Shrek
ing, drums beating, all the storm and stress
Of the awful waters clashing on the cliffs
without, and boiling with unusual screams
through the black slit between the cave and
the DEVILS Caldron.
Trembling, with perspiration standing in
great beads on his face, he searched the cave
for the corpse of the murdered man, expect
ing to find it well advanced in decomposition.
Strange to say, however, it had disappeared.
William Jones was at once relieved and
alarmed; relieved because he was spared a
horrible experiences; alarmed because he
could not account for the disappearance. A
little reflection however, suggested that one
of those tidal waves SO common on the coast
might have risen well up into the cavern,
washed away the body from it's place on the
single, and carried it away in the direction
of the Caldron. "In which case" herefected
''them coastguard chaps would find it some
day among the rocks or on the shore, and
think it had been drownded in the way of
natur'"
Satisfied that everything else was undis-
turbed, he retired as hastily as possible, sealed
I'D the entrance to the cavern, and ran hastily
home.
The morning of the marriage came-a fine
sunny morning. An open dogcart belonging
to Monk, and driven by one of his servants,
stood at William Jones' door, and close to it
light country cart, borrowed by William
Jones himself from a neighboring farmer.
The population, consisting of an aged coast
guardmen, two coastguardmen's wives and
half dozen detected children, crowded in
front of the cottage.
The bridegroom, attired in decent black,
with flower in bis buttonhole, stood waiting
impatiently in the garden. Despite the festive
occasion, he had a gloomy and hangdog
appearance. Presently there emerged from
the door William Jones, attired in q drowned
seaman's suit several sizes too large for him,
and wearing a chimney-pot hat and white
rosette. Leaning on his arm was Matt,
dressed in dress of blue silk, newly made
for her, out Of damaged materials supplied by
Jones. by one of the coastguard women, a
light straw hat with blue ribbons to match,
and a light lace shawl. Behind this pair
hobbled William Jones' father, whose cos
tune was nautical, like his sons, but more
damaged, and who also sported chimney
pot hat and a white rosette.
The crowd gave a feeble cheer. Matt
looked round and smiled. but mingled with