consider it his duty to object.

Mrs. West was to be one of the witnesses, and, as Barbara couldn't leave
the man she was engaged to, the very last day before he sailed, Basil
thought we had better have Salomon the chauffeur for the second witness.
Mr. George Vanneck might have come on from Glasgow, but I heard Mrs.
West say to Basil, when he suggested telegraphing, "I don't want to see
him just now, and especially at the time of a wedding. He might be
unreasonable."

As we needed Salomon, we went all the way in the car, instead of taking
the train from Oban, which would have saved us a few hours.

When we got to Gretna Green it was evening, but the daylight lingered
still. In the south it would already have been gone. There was a pale
dusk mingling with the moonshine, and I couldn't help remembering the
mysterious light in Sweetheart Abbey, on my first night of Scotland and
the heather moon. I remembered my dream, too, the dream of the locked
ebony and silver box, which could be opened only by the key of the
rainbow. It nearly broke my heart to think of these things, and I wished
it _would_ break, so that I might die instead of marrying Basil: for if
I were dead I should be safely out of everybody's way, just the same as
being married.

Basil asked me where it was that we had gone through the ceremony for
the photographs, but before I had time to answer, the car brought us to
the house, and he recognized it from the biograph pictures. He told
Salomon to stop, and leaving Mrs. West and me in the car, he got out to
talk with the man of the house. Up till that moment I had been dully
wishing it were all over, and had been actually in a hurry; but suddenly
I felt as if I couldn't bear being married, and should have to run away.
I longed and almost prayed for something--anything--to happen which
would put off the wedding until another day. If an earthquake had
wrecked the house I should have been delighted. But nothing did happen.
Mrs. West talked cheeringly to me while Basil was gone, saying how happy
I should be all the rest of my life, and what a lovely honeymoon her
brother was planning. "I shall go away and leave you to your two
selves," she said; and though I'm afraid I almost hated her, still I
longed to cry out, "Oh, _don't_ go away!"

In a few minutes Basil came back, looking excited and rather happy, yet
there was that curiously pitiful, apologetic expression in his eyes
which had been in them always lately,