Grisell's feeling was by this time concentrated in the one hope that
she should be dutiful to the poor, unwilling bridegroom, far more to
be pitied than herself, and that she should be guarded by God
whatever befell.
It was over. Signing of registers was not in those days, but there
was some delay, for the darkness was more dense than ever, the rush
of furious hail was heard without, a great blue flash of intense
light filled every corner of the church, the thunder pealed so
sharply and vehemently overhead that the small company looked at one
another and at the church, to ascertain that no stroke had fallen.
Then the Lord of Whitburn, first recovering himself, cried, "Come,
sir knight, kiss your bride. Ha! where is he? Sir Leonard--here.
Who hath seen him? Not vanished in yon flash! Eh?"
No, but the men without, cowering under the wall, deposed that Sir
Leonard Copeland had rushed out, shouted to them that he had
fulfilled the conditions and was a free man, taken his horse, and
galloped away through the storm.
CHAPTER XIV--THE LONELY BRIDE
Grace for the callant
If he marries our muckle-mouth Meg.
BROWNING.
"The recreant! Shall we follow him?" was the cry of Lord Whitburn's
younger squire, Harry Featherstone, with his hand on his horse's
neck, in spite of the torrents of rain and the fresh flash that set
the horses quivering.
"No! no!" roared the Baron.
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