message.

Mr. Walraven stood aghast. Lucy was plied with questions. Who was the
girl? What was she like? What had she said? Where had she come from?

Sir Roger was wildly alarmed at first, but Mr. Walraven reassured him.
The company waited, on the _qui vive_, for they knew not what. Eleven
o'clock came. Lucy went up to the bride's room; the door was still fast;
she knocked--there was no reply; she called--there was no answer. Then
Lucy screamed, and in a twinkling a crowd was around the door. They
shook it, they rapped, they called, all in vain. Dead silence reigned.

"Force the door!" exclaimed Carl Walraven, hoarsely.

Strong men forced it. There was a rush in, a recoil, a cry of
consternation, for the apartment was empty; the bird had flown.

How the search began no one ever knew, but begin it did. The house was
hunted from top to bottom; still in vain. Not a trace of the bride could
be found.

The wedding party dispersed in wild confusion, but the search went on.
Through the night it lasted; but morning broke, and still no trace. The
bride had disappeared as if the earth had opened and swallowed her up!




CHAPTER VII.