Part 35 (1/2)
A small old man with a black suit and a long white beard came to the door and beckoned them. They suddenly realized that he was the priest and followed him meekly.
”I've often been the officiating surgeon,” whispered Louis, giggling nervously, ”but I never understood the point of view of the man on the operating table before.”
”Oh hush, Louis. I feel so solemn,” whispered Marcella. She wished very much that Wullie was there. She felt that he would have understood how she felt as she repeated mechanically the words the old man told her; she did not hear them really. She was making an end of all her doubts of Louis; she knew, quite definitely, that whatever misery or degradation might come to her in the future, whatever wild or conceited or cussed or tropical thoughts had brought her to this dull little chapel to-night, G.o.d was quite surely making her His pathway, walking over her life with s.h.i.+ning feet, burning out all the less fine things that did not belong to Him. She woke up to feel Louis fumbling with her hand to put the ring on; she had been miles and years away, through fires and waters of consecration.
The old clergyman looked at her; he looked at Louis. The actual service according to the book was over. He gave a little sigh, turned to lead them to the vestry to sign their names, and then quite suddenly came back and asked them to kneel down. He talked to G.o.d very intimately about them. Marcella got the queer idea that he was talking to her all the time.
”He must have thought a lot of you,” whispered the old woman. ”It isn't like him to make up a extry bit like that. Well, I'm sure I wish yous luck, both of you. Mind not let him have too much of his own way, my dear.”
Smiling she led away her toothless old man. Marcella handed Louis the marriage certificate, which he put in his pocket. Out in the street it was quite dark.
”Phew, wasn't it an awful experience? Lord, we're married! Married! Do you really believe it, darling? And I haven't given you a kiss yet. I couldn't with those old dodderers about. Oh, Marcella, isn't it great?
And isn't it a lark? But if anyone had told me I'd have got married in a tin tabernacle, s...o...b..red over by a lot of Non-bally-conformists I'd have had hysterics. We'll simply have to tell the Mater and Violet!
It'll be the joke of the century to them.”
She drew a deep breath.
”Louis, can't we run right away into the Bush? I do wish we were at home on Ben Grief in the wind--the thought of that great, big hotel terrifies me. I feel sort of--like I used to feel when I went to church with mother on Easter Sundays, when everything was cool and white and smelt of lilies. Oh, Louis, I _do_ so love you!”
Suddenly he stood still and looked at her.
”Let's find a cab and get down to that bally boat for the baggage. Oh, bother the baggage! My darling, I want you alone. You stood there so quiet and still, looking just like a little girl being very, very good.
Oh, my dear, you're a d.a.m.ned sight too good for me. Lord, I'll feed myself to the sharks in the harbour if ever I hurt you! What luck to find you! What amazing, gorgeous luck! Me--the waster, the unwanted, the do-nothing. Marcella--Lord, what's the use of words? I'm getting your trick of not being able to find words for what I mean. But you wait.
Just you wait. There's a new Louis born to-night, in a funny little Nonconformist chapel. Look at him, girlie--can't you see he's different?”
They found a cab and drove down to the quay again. Heedless of the people in the streets he kissed her again and again and did not stop talking for an instant.
”You know, the very fact of being married alone is going to do wonders for me. It's going to give me a grip on things. I've been an outcast, dear--I've never known, when I've been this side of the world, where my next bed or my next meal is coming from. But to have a wife--and we'll have a home and everything--why, you can't think what it means.”
When they reached the quay he left Marcella in the cab, telling her he would only be two minutes. She watched him vanish in the shadow of the Customs shed. A moment later he was back.
”I hate to leave you, even for a minute. I must have one more kiss. Oh, my darling, if you could only guess what it means to me to know that you love me, that you are waiting here for me. You've never been a throwout, a waster, or you'd realize just what you mean to me.”
Then he was gone, and she lay back, her eyes closed, dreaming. She felt very safe, very secure.
It seemed a long time that he was gone, but she was accustomed to going thousands of miles in her dreams, only to find, wakening suddenly, that the clock had only measured five minutes. But at last she realized that it really was a long time. The horse began to paw and fidget; the driver, smoking a very reeking pipe, looked in at the window.
”D'you think your boss'll be long?” he asked.
”How long has he been?” she asked.
”More'n half an hour. I've got some folks to take to the theatre, but I'm afraid I'll have to give them a miss if he don't hurry hisself.”
”I wonder if you'd go and see, please?” she asked doubtfully. ”You see, we've only just been married to-day and I feel so silly--the people on board are sure to start making a big fuss if I go--”
”Right-o, ma. I'll go,” he said, and made off across the quay. He, too, was gone a long while; the horse got more fidgety, but at last he appeared, carrying two of Louis's bags.
He grinned as he came up to the cab.
”He's a lad!” he said genially. ”Would make me stop an' wet the wedding.