being overheard. During this scene Edith had stood trembling, half
fainting, with a kind of blank despair in her soul, and scarcely any
consciousness of what was going on.

The witness, who had entered last, moved slowly and carefully about, and
walked up to where he could see the figure of Edith faintly defined
against the white sheen of the clergyman's surplice. He stood at her
right hand.

"Begin," said Dudleigh; and then he said, "Miss Dalton, where are you?"

She said nothing. She could not speak.

"Miss Dalton," said he again.

She tried to speak, but it ended in a moan.

Dudleigh seemed to distinguish her now, for he went toward her, and the
next moment she felt the bridegroom at her side.

A shudder passed through Edith. She could think of nothing but the
horror of her situation. And yet she did not think of retreating. No.
Her plighted word had been given, and the dark terror of Wiggins made it
still more impossible. Yet so deep was her agitation that there was
scarce any thought on her mind at all.

And now the clergyman began the marriage service. He could not use his
book, of course, but he knew the service by heart, and went on fluently
enough, omitting here and there an unimportant part, and speaking in a
low voice, but very rapidly. Edith scarcely understood a word.