In obedience to the priest's direction he sauntered to her side
laughing. Then, still laughing, with his hand he separated the tresses
of dark hair, as though to look at the beauty of her side face, and bent
down as if to kiss her.
She stood pale and rigid, but once more her hand was lifted towards her
mouth.
"Stop," he whispered swiftly into her ear, speaking in English, "I have
come to rescue you. Go through with this farce, it means nothing. Then,
if I bid you, run for the drawbridge into the slave-camp."
She heard, a light of intelligence shone in her eyes, and her hand fell
again.
"Come, stop that, friend Pierre," said Pereira suspiciously. "What are
you whispering about?"
"I was telling the bride how beautiful I think her," he answered
carelessly.
Juanna turned and flashed on him a well-simulated glance of hate and
scorn. Then the service began.
The young priest was gifted with a low and beautiful voice, and by the
light of the moon he read the ritual of marriage so solemnly that even
the villains who stood round ceased their jokes and sneers and were
silent. All things were done in order, though Juanna made no reply
to the usual questions. With much sham courtesy the loathsome Pereira
presided over the ceremony--their hands were joined, the ring was set
upon Juanna's finger, the blessing was pronounced, and it was finished.
All this while Leonard stood like a man in a dream. He felt as though he
were really being married; it even came into his mind, as he looked upon
the loveliness of the mock bride at his side, that a worse fate might
befall him.
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