The Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1903-1909, 1906-11-27
B. S.R:CROCKETT.A uM~% TIER
Copyright. 1898, 1900, by S. R. Crockett)


the great palace where abode the
bride-elect.
Who is that YOUTH" asked Mar
garet of CORTLAND of Joan, as they
came out together; she looked at the
J Dane-"he at the head of your first
troops? He looks like your brother"
He has often been taken for SUCH"
said the bride. He is called the
Count von Loen."
The bells of the minister changed
out a changeful thunder of brazen ac-
claim as the bride set out for the
first time $50 they told each other OF
the s~treets) to see her promised hus-
band.
Very like a princess and a great
lady looked Joan of Hohenstein as she
went up the aisle, with Margaret of
CORTLAND by her side. She kept her
eyes on the ground, for she meant to
look at no one and behold nothing till
she should see-that which she longed
to look upon.
Suddenly she was conscious that
they had stopped in the middle of a
vast silence. The candles upon the
great altar threw down a golden
l%ustre, Joan saw the irregular shin
ing of them on her white bridal dress,
and wondered that it should be SO
bright.
my brother, the Prince of Court
land" said the voice of the Princess
Margaret.
Slowly Joan raised her eyes-pride
and happiness at wal with a kind OF
glorious shame upon her face.
But that one look altered all things.
She stood fixed, aghast, turned to
stone as she gazed. She could
neither speak nor think. That which
she saw almost struck her dead with
horror.
The man whom his sister introduced
as the Prince of CORTLAND was not
the knight of the tournament. He was
not the young prince of the summer
palace. He was a man much older,
more meager of body, grey-headed,
with an odd sidelong expression in his
eyes. His shoulders were bent and
he carried himself like a man prema-
turely old.
And there, behind the altar railing,
clad in the scarlet of a prince of the
church, and wearing the mitre OF a
bishop, stood the husband of her
hearts deep thoughts, the man who
had never been out of her mind all
these weary months. He held a
service book in his hand, and stood
ready to marry Joan of Hohepsteln to
another.
Are you the Prince of Courtland?"
she asked; and at the sound of her
voice, ~unwontedly clear in the great
church, ever the organ appeared to
still itself. All listened intently,
though only a few heard the ,onversa-
ton.
Il have that honor" bowed the man
with the bent shoulders.
Then, as God lives, | will never
marry you." cried Joan, all her soul in
the disgust of her voice.
BE not disdainful, my lady," said
the bridegroom mildly; Il will be your
humble slave. You shall have a
palace and an establishment of your
own, an it like you. The marriage
was your fathers desire, and hath the
sanction of the emperor. 1t is as
necessary for your state as for mine"
Then, while the people waited in a
kind Of palpitating uncertainty, the
Princess Margaret whispered to the
bride, who stood with a face as ashen
pale as her white dress.
Well she said finally, Il will
marry this man, since it is my fate.
Let the ceremony proceed"
81 thank you, gracious lady, said
the prince, taking her hand and lead
ing his bride to the altar. "You will
never regret it."
mo, but you will" muttered his
groomsman, Prince Ivan of Muscovy.
The full rich tones of the prince
bishop rose and fell through the
crowded Minister as Joan of HoheD-
stein was married to his elder
brother, and with the closing words
of the episcopal benediction an W
fell upon the multitude. They felt
that they were in the presence of
great unknown forces, the action and
interaction of which might lead no
man knew whittier.
At the close of the service, Joan,
now Princess of CORTLAND, leaned
over and whispered a word to her
captain, Maurice o Lynar, an action
noticed by few. The young man
started and gazed into her face; but,
Immediately commanding his emotion,
he nodded and disappeared by a side
door.
The great organ swelled out. The
nor;,uo pcnnocciop uroc ra-forpnnd