by F. Anstey
sensation it will make! I'll do a full descriptivereport for all my papers!"
"That's what I call a real sporting way of getting spliced," saidChuck. "Only wish I'd thought of it myself before I had our banns putup, Ruth. First-rate idea of yours, Blenkinsop."
"Of course," I said, "if the Professor thinks it in the leastunsafe----"
"First-rate idea of yours, Blenkinsop."]
"Oh, it's safe enough," put in Chuck, who was a little too apt tovolunteer his opinion. "Why, we've seen the lions, Professor; they'reas quiet as lambs. And anyway, they'd have the lion-tamer in withthem, you know. _They'll_ be all right!"
"I think," said the Professor, "we may disregard the danger; but theexpense--have you thought what it will cost, Theodore?"
"I have not," I said, "not till you mentioned it. It will probably beenormous, more than I could possibly afford--unless you are ready togo halves?" I concluded, feeling perfectly certain that he was readyto do nothing of the sort.
"But look here," said Chuck, "why should it cost you anything? If yougo the right way about it, you ought to get all your expenses paid bythe circus, and a share of the gate-money into the bargain."
"Oh, Mr Chuck!" cried Lurana, "_how_ clever of you to think of that!_wasn't_ it, Theodore?"
I could have kicked Chuck, but I said it was a stroke of positivegenius.
"That's simple enough," he said. "The rock _I_ see ahead is gettingthe special licence. You see, if you want to marry anywhere else thanin a certified place of worship or a registry office, you must firstsatisfy the Archbishop of Canterbury, or the Surrogate, or whoever theold Josser is at Doctors' Commons who looks after these things, thatit's a 'convenient place' within the Marriage Act of 1836. Now, thepoint is, _will_ a cage of lions strike them as coming under thatdescription?"
If it should, the ecclesiastical notions of convenience must be morethan peculiar. For the first time I realised what an able fellow Chuckwas.
"My dear Chuck!" I said, "what a marvellous knowledge you have of law!You've hit the weak spot. It would be perfectly hopeless to make suchan application. It's a pity, but we must give it up, that's all--wemust give it up."
"Then," said Lurana, "we must give up any marriage at all, for Icertainly don't intend to marry anywhere else."
"After all," said the irrepressible Chuck, "all you need apply for isa licence to marry in the Agricultural Hall; they won't want to knowthe exact spot. I tell you what, you go and talk it over with thecircus people and fix the day, and I'll go up to Doctors' Commons andget round 'em somehow. You leave it to me."
"Do you know," said the Professor, beaming, "I really begin to thinkthis idea of yours can be carried out quite comfortably after all,Theodore. It certainly has the attraction of novelty, besides beingsafe, and even, it may be, remunerative. To a true lover, a lions'cage may be as fit a temple of Hymen as any other structure, and theirroars be gentle as the ring-dove's coo. Go and see these people thefirst thing tomorrow, and no doubt you will be able to come to termswith them."
This I agreed to do, and Lurana insisted on coming with me. MissRakestraw was in ecstasies over our proposal, and undertook to whatshe called "boom the wedding for all it was worth" in every paper withwhich she had any connection, and with other more influential organsto which the possession of such exclusive intelligence as hers wouldprocure her the _entree_.
By the end of the evening she had completely turned Lurana's head, andeven I myself was not quite untouched by the general enthusiasm. Itseemed to me that being married in a den of lions might not be suchbad fun after all.
When I awoke next morning with the dawning recollection of what I wasin for, the glamour had in a great measure departed from the idea,which seemed to me at best but a foolish piece of bravado. It had beenarranged that I should call for Lurana immediately after breakfast,and interview the circus proprietors on my way to business, and Irather expected to find that the night had borne counsel to her aswell as myself; but she was in exuberant spirits, and as keen aboutthe project as ever, so I thought it better not to betray that my ownardour had abated.
But what, after all, were we going to request? That these peopleshould allow their lions to be inconvenienced, quite unnecessarily, bya wedding in their cage between two perfect strangers who had allLondon to choose from!
I believed that they would decline to entertain the suggestion for amoment, and, if so, I could not blame them. I felt that they wouldhave both right and reason on their side.
On arriving at the Hall, we inquired for Mr Wooker or Mr Sawkins, andwere requested to wait, which we did in a draughty passage smellingstrongly of stables, while loud snorting and wheezing reached our earsfrom the arena, where they seemed to be exercising the circus stud.
At last we were told that Mr Sawkins would see us (I don't know tothis day whether Mr Wooker had any real existence or not), and wereshown up to his office, which did not differ from any other office,except that it had a gaudy circus poster and a bill announcing thesale by auction of some rival menagerie pinned against the wall. Asfor Mr Sawkins, he was a florid, jowly man, with the remnants of hishair dyed and parted down the middle, a kind of amalgam of a countryjob-master and the dignified person who bows customers into chairs ina fashionable draper's establishment.
He heard Lurana, who acted as spokeswoman, with magisterial gravity,and, to my surprise, without appearing to regard us as a pair ofmorbid maniacs.
"There's no denying," he said, "that the thing would draw if properlybilled, always supposing, mind you, that it's capable of being done atall. And the only person able to give an opinion about that is MrOnion, the gentleman," he explained, "who is our Lion King. He spellshis name 'Niono' professionally, which gives it more of an Africanflavour, if you follow my meaning. I'll call down the tube for him."
I awaited Mr Onion's arrival with impatience. He presently made hisappearance in a short-braided tunic, with black lamb's wool round thecollar and cuffs. By daylight his countenance, though far fromill-looking, was sallow and seamed; there was a glance of admirationin his bold, dark eyes as they rested on Lurana's spirited face.
"Well," he decided, after the case had been explained to him, "if thelady's as game as she seems, and the gentleman likewise, _I_ don't seeany objection. Along with _me_, there'll be no more danger than if itwas a cage of white mice--provided you've the nerve for it."
Lurana said proudly that her own mother had been an accomplishedanimal trainer--she did not mention the kind of animals--and that sheherself was quite incapable of being afraid of a lion.
"Well, if the lady's as game as she seems, and thegentleman likewise, I don't see any objection."]
"If you've _got_ nerve," said Mr Niono, "you're right enough, but youcan't _create_ it; it's a gift. Take _me_. I'm hardly ever away frommy animals. I get downright impatient for every performance. But ifever I got the feeling that I was _afraid_ of them lions or theyweren't afraid o' me, do you think I'd trust myself inside that cage?No fear! They've left their marks on me as it is--my 'trade marks,' asI call 'em--see!" and here he bared his arm and exhibited some fearfulscars; "but that's affection, that is."
He then offered to introduce us to his pets, and I should haveaccompanied Lurana to see the cage, only on the way we met Mlle.Leonie, to whom Mr Sawkins presented me, and, naturally, I wascompelled to stop. She was a piquant-looking woman, not quite in herfirst youth, perhaps, but still attractive, and with theindescribable, airy grace of a Parisian, though I believe she camefrom Belgium. Mademoiselle was charmed with our project, complimentedme upon my Britannic phlegm, and predicted that I should find thelittle experience "all," as she put it, "that there was of the mostagreeable," which I devoutly hoped would be the case.
We were still chatting when Laurana returned.]
We were still chatting when Lurana returned, enraptured with thelions, one of whom had actually allowed her to tickle him behind theear. Niono testified that _her_ nerve, at all events, was beyondquestion. She was anxious that I should go and tickle the lio
n, too;but this I declined, being occupied in talking to Mlle. Leonie at thetime.
"There's one thing," said Mr Sawkins later, as we were discussing thearrangements, "we shouldn't object to paying for the special licence;but where are you going to find a parson to marry you? You must have aparson of _some_ sort, you know."
Again Fate seemed to have interposed an insurmountable barrier betweenus and our desire. I had to admit that it would be difficult, if notimpossible, to find a
