being on the banks of a fine trout-stream, and in the midst of woodland
coverts, abounding with excellent game. The bride, with her father
and attendant maidens, entered the chapel; but the earl had not arrived.
The baron was amazed, and the bridemaidens were disconcerted.
Matilda feared that some evil had befallen her lover, but felt no diminution
of her confidence in his honour and love. Through the open gates of the
chapel she looked down the narrow road that wound along the side of the hill;
and her ear was the first that heard the distant trampling of horses,
and her eye was the first that caught the glitter of snowy plumes,
and the light of polished spears. "It is strange," thought the baron,
"that the earl should come in this martial array to his wedding;"
but he had not long to meditate on the phenomenon, for the foaming steeds
swept up to the gate like a whirlwind, and the earl, breathless with speed,
and followed by a few of his yeomen, advanced to his smiling bride.
It was then no time to ask questions, for the organ was in full peal,
and the choristers were in full voice.

The abbot began to intone the ceremony in a style of modulation impressively
exalted, his voice issuing most canonically from the roof of his mouth,
through the medium of a very musical nose newly tuned for the occasion.
But he had not proceeded far enough to exhibit all the variety and compass
of this melodious instrument, when a noise was heard at the gate, and a party
of armed men entered the chapel. The song of the choristers died away
in a shake of demisemiquavers, contrary to all the rules of psalmody.
The organ-blower, who was working his musical air-pump with one hand,
and with two fingers and a thumb of the other insinuating a peeping-place
through the curtain of the organ-gallery, was struck motionless by the
double operation of curiosity and fear; while the organist, intent only
on his performance, and spreading all his fingers to strike a swell
of magnificent chords, felt his harmonic spirit ready to desert his body