by F. Anstey
with its brown tan enclosed by a white border cushioned alongthe top in faded crimson. The reserved stalls were all full, andbeyond the barriers, the crowd swayed and surged in a dense blackmass. Nobody was inside the ring except a couple of nondescript groomsin scarlet liveries, who hung about with an air of growingembarrassment. The orchestra opposite was reiterating "The Maiden'sPrayer" with a perseverance that at length got upon the nerves of theaudience, which began to stamp suggestively.
"It's a swindle," said a husky man, who was obviously inclined toscepticism, and also sherry, "a reg'lar take in! There won't be nobodymarried in a lion's cage--I've said so all along."
"Oh, it's too soon to say that yet!" I replied soothingly, though Ihad reasons for being of the same opinion, "they're a little behindtime, that's all."
It's a swindle.]
"I dunno _what_ it is they're behind," he said,--"but they don't meancomin' out. There, what did I _tell_ you?"
One of the grooms, obeying instructions from without, had just gone tothe Indicator-post, removed the number corresponding with that of thewedding programme, and substituted another, which was the signal for ageneral uproar.
A carpet was spread for a performance by a "Bender," who made hisappearance in a tight suit of green spangles, as the "Marvellous BoySerpent," and endeavoured to wile away the popular discontent bywrithing in and out of the rungs of a chair, and making a glitteringpincushion of himself. In vain, for they would have none of him, andthe poor youth had to return at last amidst a storm of undeservedhissing.
Another long wait followed, and the indignation grew louder. Soinfectious is the temper of a mob that I actually caught myselfgrowing impatient, and banging loudly on the floor with myumbrella--just as my neighbours were doing!
All at once, to my extreme bewilderment, the stamping and hootingchanged to tumultuous applause, the band began to bray out an air thatwas apparently intended for "The Voice that Breathed," the barrierswere thrown open, and the great elephant lumbered into the arenadrawing the cage.
The brute had an enormous wedding favour attached to each side of histusks, and all the animals in the cage, down to the very tiger, werewearing garlands of artificial orange-blossom, a touch of sentimentwhich seemed to go straight to the hearts of the people.
But even while I looked down into the cage, with much the samereflection as that of John Bradford of old, that there, but forspecial grace, I might myself be figuring, I was astounded by theaudacity of the management.
Could they really imagine that an intelligent and enlightened audiencelike this would be pacified by anything less than the spectacle theyhad paid to witness--a marriage solemnised in a den of lions? And howdid they propose to perform a ceremony at which, as they must be fullyaware by this time, the bridegroom would be conspicuous by hisabsence? No, it might be magnificent, but it was not business.
I was still speculating, when a kind of small procession entered thearena. First came Mr Sawkins, with the Reverend Ninian, looking ratherlike a cheap Cranmer; next was a smart-looking person in a well-cutfrock-coat and lavender trousers that I seemed to have seen before. Itwas my wedding suit; the wearer had gummed on a moustache and shortside-whiskers which gave him a spurious resemblance to myself, but ifnobody else knew him, I did--it was Onion, the Lion King!
And the next moment, I received a still greater shock, as ProfessorPolkinghorne followed with the lofty bearing of a Virginius, and onhis arm was a slender shrinking figure, which, in spite of the veilshe wore, I knew too well could be no other than Lurana.
"There's the bridegroom, d'ye see!" explained my hoarse neighbour;"he's a deal better lookin' than the pictures they've drawed of him inthe papers. But he's as pale as plaster, he'll back out of it at thelast moment--you just see if he don't!"
But I knew Niono better. I remembered his open admiration of Lurana,his envy at my good fortune, I felt convinced that his pallor wasmerely due to the absence of rouge and the fear that he would notsucceed in his daring imposture. For I saw now that he had beenplanning to supplant me from the first; hence his attempts to shake mynerve, and, when they failed, hence his treacherous loan of a bluntrazor. He was staking everything on the chance that the bride'snatural agitation, and the thickness of her veil would prevent herfrom suspecting that he was a fraudulent bridegroom until the ceremonywas over, while the audience, not expecting to see a Lion King in atall hat, would be equally deceived.
A kind of small procession entered the arena.]
"Pore young things!" said a stout female in front, with a noddingfeather in her bonnet; "it's to be 'oped there won't be anyunpleasantness, I'm sure. I'm 'alf sorry I came."
There was time even yet; I had but to rise, denounce the usurper, andtake my rightful place at Lurana's side. I felt strongly impelled todo so; I actually stood up and tried to speak. But I realised that itwas hopeless to attempt to make my feeble voice heard above thethunders of applause, even if excitement and emotion had not renderedme speechless. Besides, what satisfactory explanation of my presentposition could I offer? I sat down again with a sense of spellboundhelplessness.
I looked on as the great arc-lamps were lowered, hissing and buzzing,to the level of the cage, and the Reverend Mr Skipworth prepared toascend the inverted white tub that was to serve him as a reading-desk,and the unscrupulous Onion took the bride by the hand and conductedher to the steps which led to the door of the lion-cage.
"They're never goin' in among all them lions without nobody withthem!" cried the stout lady. "It's downright temptin' of Providence,that it is!"
"Don't you be afraid," said the cynical man. "_They_ ain't goin' in.Just look at _that_ now!"
As he spoke two persons in plain clothes, who had apparently beenwaiting for this moment, stepped over the barrier from the shillingstalls into the ring, and, from their gestures, seemed to be insistingthat the wedding should not take place inside the cage at all events.
There was an animated dispute in the ring; Niono blustered, Luranapleaded, Sawkins expostulated, and the professor and Archibald Chuck(who had contrived to push himself into the party) argued, while MissRakestraw filled page after page of her reporter's note-book, and theRev. Ninian sat upon his tub with meekly folded hands, looking morethan ever like a martyr who knew himself to be incombustible.
The audience booed, and hissed, and yelled with natural rage anddisappointment; the lions remained unmoved, blinking behind theirbars, with crossed forepaws, and an air of serene indifference.
"I told yer there wasn't going to be no blooming wedding!" said myhusky friend. "It's a reg'lar put-up job, that's what it is!"
It was possible; but whether the interrupters of the proceedings werehired supers or genuine officials, it was equally clear that therewould be no wedding inside the cage.
How bitterly I regretted that by yielding to an irresistible impulse Ihad forfeited the right to stand by Lurana's side at this suprememoment! I could have done so with absolute impunity; I should have wona lifelong reputation for courage; Lurana herself would have ownedthat I had done all that was possible to gratify her whim, and wouldhave consented to marry me in the orthodox fashion.
Whereas, here I was, separated from her by impassable barriers, in theignominious seclusion of a back seat! However, this officialprohibition had at least solved one of my difficulties; it hadrendered it unnecessary for me to interfere personally.
The storm of indignation rose to a hurricane when the entire weddingparty filed out of the arena with the officials, doubtless to discussthe matter in greater privacy.
The stout lady with the feather was particularly annoyed. "Whyshouldn't the two young parties be allowed to please themselves?" shewanted to know. "It was _their_ wedding, not the Government's. But itwas always the way whenever she came out for a little amusement.Somethink was bound to go wrong."
Another long interval, during which the wildest disorder reignedunchecked, the crowd, with the irrationality of an angry mob, actuallythrowing pieces of orange-peel at the unoffending lions as the o
nlycreatures within the range of their displeasure. The hubbub was at itsheight when Sawkins reappeared and held up his hand for some time invain before he could obtain a hearing. Then he addressed the audienceas follows:
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, "certain individuals claiming torepresent the Home Office and the London County Council" (here therewere groans, and my neighbour remarked disgustedly, that "that waswhat came of returning those Progressives") "have protested against awedding in the cage as involving danger to the principal partiesconcerned." (Loud cries of "Shame!" and general uproar.) "I have thehonour and pleasure to announce that we have succeeded
