other. Affrighted as she was by the tomb-like
aspect of the deep vault, she had not ventured so far that she should
now shrink from further dangers or fail in her quest;--the cherished
object of her constant watchful care was within that subterranean
blackness,--for what purpose?--she did not dare to think! But there was
an instinctive sense of dread foreknowledge upon her,--a warning of
impending evil,--and had she not sworn to him--"If God struck you down
to hell I would be there!" The entrance to the cavern looked like the
mouth of hell itself, as she had seen it depicted in one of her
Catholic early lesson books. There were serpents and dragons in the
picture ready to devour the impenitent sinner,--there might be serpents
and dragons in this cave, for all she knew! But what matter? If the man
she loved were actually in hell she "would be there"--as she had
said!--and would surely find it Heaven! And so,--seeing the mere
outline of his form moving ghost-like in the gloom, it was to her a
guiding presence,--a light amid darkness,--and when,--after a minute or
two--her straining eyes perceived him climbing steadily up the steep
and perilous rocks, seeming about to disappear altogether,--she
mastered the tremor of her nerves and crept cautiously step by step
into the sombre vault, blindly feeling her way through the damp, thick
murkiness, reckless of all danger, and only bent on following him.

CHAPTER XXII

Of all the vagaries and humours of humanity when considered in crowds,
there is nothing which appears more senseless and objectless than the
way in which it congregates outside the door of a church at a
fashionable or "society" wedding. The massed people pushing and shoving
each other about have nothing whatever to do with either bride or
bridegroom, the ceremony inside the sacred edifice has in most cases
ceased to be a "sacrament"--and has become a mere show of dressed-up
manikins and womenkins, many of the latter being mere OBJECT
D'ART,--stands for the display of millinery. And yet--the crowds fight
and jostle,--women scramble and scream,--all to catch a glimpse of the
woman who is to be given to the man, and the man who has agreed to
accept the woman. The wealthier the pair the wilder the frenzy to gaze
upon them. Savages performing a crazy war-dance are decorous of
behaviour in contrast with these "civilised" folk who tramp on each
other's feet and are ready to squeeze each other into pulp for the
c