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Chap Up The Four Flights Of Stairs,  And Arrived Wholly Out Of Breath

Before The Brass Railing Which Guarded The Hymeneal Documents. A

Clerk As Slow Of Intellect As The First,  And Even More Somnolent,

Approached And Leaned Over The Counter.

 

Feeling Now Quite Familiar With A Registrar's Office,  Frank Explained

His Business Successfully. The Fat Clerk,  Whose Red Nose Had Sprouted

Into Many Knobs,  Balanced Himself Leisurely,  Evidently Giving Little

Heed To What Was Said; But The Broadness Of The Brogue Saved Frank

From Losing His Temper.

 

"What Part Of Oireland Do Ye Come From? Is It Tipperary?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I Thought So; Cashel,  I'm Thinking."

 

"Yes; Do You Come From There?"

 

"To Be Sure I Do. I Knew You When You Were A Boy; And Is His Lordship

In Good Health?"

 

Frank Replied That Lord Mount Rorke Was In Excellent Health,  And

Feeling Himself Obliged To Be Civil,  He Asked The Clerk His Name,  And

How Long It Was Since He Had Been In Ireland.

 

"Well,  This Is Odd," The Clerk Began,  And Then In An Irritating

Undertone Mr. Scanlon Proceeded To Tell How He And Four Others Were

Driving Through Portarlington To Take The Train To Dublin,  When One

Of Them,  Michael Carey He Thought It Was,  Proposed To Stop The Car

And Have Some Refreshment At The Royal Hotel.

 

Frank Tried Several Times To Return To The Question Of The License,

But The Imperturbable Clerk Was Not To Be Checked.

 

"I Was Just Telling You," He Interposed.

 

It Seemed Hard Luck That He Should Find A Native Of Cashel In The

Pimlico Registrar's Office. He Had Intended To Keep His Marriage A

Secret,  As Did Willy Brookes,  And For A Moment The New Danger

Chapter 6 Pg 54

Thrilled Him. It Was Intolerable To Have To Put Up With This

Creature's Idle Loquacity,  But Not Wishing To Offend Him He Endured

It A Little Longer.

 

When The Clerk Paused In His Narrative Of The Four Gentlemen Who Had

Stopped The Car To Have Some Refreshment,  Frank Made A Resolute Stand

Against Any Fresh Developments Of The Story,  And Succeeded In

Extracting Some Particulars Concerning The Marriage Laws. And Within

The Next Few Days All Formalities Were Completed,  And Frank's

Marriage Fixed For The End Of The Week--For Friday,  At A Quarter To

Eleven. He Slept Lightly That Night,  Was Out Of Bed Before Eight,  And

Mistaking The Time,  Arrived At The Office A Few Minutes Before Ten.

He Met The Old Man In Gray Clothes In The Passage,  And This Time He

Was Not To Be Evaded.

 

"Are You The Gentleman Who's Come To Be Married By Special License,

Sir?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Neither Mr. Southey--That Is The Registrar--Nor Mr. Freeman--That's

The Assistant-Registrar--Has Yet Arrived,  Sir."

 

"It Is Very Extraordinary They Should Be Late. Do They Never Keep

Their Appointments?"

 

"They Rarely Arrives Before Ten,  Sir."

 

"Before Ten! What Time Is It Now?"

 

"Only Just Ten. I Am The Regular Attendant. I'll See Yer Through It;

No Necessity To Hagitate Yerself. It Will Be Done Quietly In A

Private Room--A Very Nice Room Too,  Fourteen Feet By Ten High--Them's

The Regulations; All The Chairs Covered With Leather; A Very Nice

Comfortable Room. Would Yer Like To See The Room? Would Yer Like To

Sit Down There And Wait? There's A Party To Be Married Before You.

But They Won't Mind You. He's A Butcher By Trade."

 

"And What Is She?"

 

"I Think She's A Tailoress; They Lives Close By Here,  They Do."

 

"And Who Are You,  And Where Do You Live?"

 

"I'm The Regular Attendant; I Lives Close By Here."

 

"Where Close By?"

 

"In The Work'us; They Gives Me This Work To Do."

 

"Oh,  You Are A Pauper,  Then?"

 

"Yease; But I Works Here; I'm The Regular Attendant. No Need To Be

Afraid,  Sir; It's All Done In A Private Room; No One Will See You.

This Way,  Sir; This Way."

 

The Sinister Aspect Of Things Never Appealed To Frank,  And He Was

Vastly Amused At The Idea Of The Pauper Mercury,  And Had Begun To

Turn The Subject Over,  Seeing How He Could Use It For A Queer Story

For The _Pilgrim_. But Time Soon Grew Horribly Long,  And To Kill It

He Volunteered To Act As Witness To The Butcher's Marriage,  One Being

Wanted. The Effects Of A Jovial Night,  Fortified By Some Matutinal

Potations,  Were Still Visible In The Small Black Eyes Of The Rubicund

Butcher--A Huge Man,  Apparently Of Cheery Disposition; He Swung To

And Fro Before The Shiny Oak Table As Might One Of His Own Carcasses.

His Bride,  A Small-Featured Woman,  Wrapped In A Plaid Shawl,

Evidently Fearing That His State,  If Perceived By The Registrar,

Might Cause A Postponement Of Her Wishes,  Strove To Shield Him. His

Pal And A Stout Girl,  With The Air Of The Coffee-Shop About Her,

Exchanged Winks And Grins,  And At The Critical Moment,  When The

Registrar Was About To Read The Declaration,  The Pal Slipped Behind

Chapter 6 Pg 55

Some Friends And,  Catching The Bridegroom By The Collar,  Whispered,

"Now Then,  Old Man,  Pull Yourself Together." The Registrar

Looked Up,  But His Spectacles Did Not Appear To Help Him; The

Assistant-Registrar,  A Tall,  Languid Young Man,  Who Wore A Carnation

In His Button-Hole,  Yawned And Called For Order. The Room Was Lighted

By A Skylight,  And The Light Fell Diffused On The Hands And Faces;

And Alternately And In Combination The Whiskied Breath And The

Carnation's Scent Assailed The Nostrils. Suddenly The Silence Was

Broken By The Registrar,  Who Began To Read The Declarations. "I

Hereby Declare That I,  James Hicks,  Know Of No Impediment Whereby I

May Not Be Joined In Matrimony With Matilde,  Matilde--Is It Matilde

Or Matilda?"

 

"I Calls Her Tilly When I Am A-Cuddling Of Her; When She Riles Me,

And Gets My Dander Up,  I Says,  'Tilder,  Come Here!'" And The Butcher

Raised His Voice Till It Seemed Like An Ox's Bellow.

 

"I Really Must Beg," Exclaimed The Registrar,  "That The Sanctity

Of--The Gravity Of This Ceremony Is Not Disturbed By Any Foolish

Frivolity. You Must Remember ..." But At That Moment The Glassy Look

Of The Butcher's Eyes Reached The Old Gentleman's Vision,  And A Heavy

Hiccup Fell Upon His Ears. "I Really Think,  Mr. Freeman,  That That

Gentleman,  One Of The Contracting Parties I Mean,  Is Not In A Fit

State--Is In A State Bordering On Inebriation. Will You Tell Me If

This Is So?"

 

"I Didn't Notice It Before," Said Mr. Freeman,  Stifling A Yawn,  "But

Now You Mention It,  I Really Think He Is A Little Drunk,  And Hardly

In A Fit ..."

 

"I Ne--Ver Was More Jolly,  Jolly Dog In My Life (Hiccup)--When You

Gentlemen Have Made It (Hiccup) All Squ--Square Between Me And My

Tilly" (A Violent Hiccup),--Then Suddenly Taking Her Round The Waist,

He Hugged Her So Violently That Matilda Could Not Forbear A

Scream,--"I Fancy I Shall Be,  Just Be A Trifle More Jolly Still....

If Any Of You Ge--Gen'men Would Care To Join Us--Most 'Appy,  Tilly

And Me."

 

Lizzie,  Who Had Discovered A Relation Or Two--A Disreputable Father

And A Nondescript Brother--Now Appeared On The Threshold. Her

Presence Reminded Frank Of His Responsibility,  So Forthwith He

Proceeded To Bully The Registrar And Allude Menacingly To His

Newspaper.

 

"I'm Sure,  Sir,  I Am Very Sorry You Should Have Witnessed Such A

Scene. Never,  Really,  In The Whole Course Of My Life ..."

 

"There Is Positively No Excuse For Allowing Such People ..."

 

"I Will Not Go On With The Marriage," Roared The Registrar; "Really,

Mr. Freeman,  You Ought To Have Seen. You Know How Short-Sighted I Am.

I Will Not Proceed With This Marriage."

 

"Oh,  Please,  Sir,  Mr. Registrar,  Don't Say That," Exclaimed Matilda.

"If You Don't Go On Now,  He'll Never Marry Me; I'll Never Be Able To

Bring 'Im To The Scratch Again. Indeed,  Sir,  'E's Not So Drunk As He

Looks. 'Tis Mostly The Effect Of The Morning Hair Upon Him."

 

"I Shall Not Proceed With The Marriage," Said The Registrar,  Sternly.

"I Have Never Seen Anything More Disgraceful In My Life. You Come

Here To Enter Into A Most Solemn,  I May Say A Sacred,  Contract,  And

You Are Not Able To Answer To Your Names; It Is Disgraceful."

 

"Indeed I Am,  Sir; My Name Is Matilda,  That's The English Of It,  But

My Poor Mother Kept Company With A Frenchman,  And He Would Have Me

Christened Matilde; But It Is All The Same,  It Is The Same Name,

Indeed It Is,  Sir. Do Marry Us; I Shan't Be Able To Get Him To The

Scratch Again. For The Last Five Years ..."

 

"Potter,  Potter,  Show These People Out; How Dare You Admit People Who

Were In A State Of Inebriation?"

Chapter 6 Pg 56

 

"I Didn't 'Ear What You Said,  Sir."

 

"Show These People Out,  And If You Ever Do It Again,  You'll Have To

Remain In The Workhouse."

 

"This Way,  Ladies And Gentlemen,  This Way. I'm The Regular

Attendant."

 

"Come Along,  Tilly Dear,  You'll Have To Wait Another Night Afore We

Are Churched. Come,  Tilly; Do You Hear Me? Come,  Tilda."

 

Frightened As She Was,  The Words "Another Night" Suggested An Idea To

Poor Matilde,  And Turning With Supplicating Eyes To The Registrar,

She Implored That They Might Make An Appointment For The Morrow.

After Some Demur The Registrar Consented,  And She Went Away Tearful,

But In Hope That She Would Be Able To Bring Him On The Morrow,  As He

Put It,  "Fit To The Post." This Matter Having Been Settled,  The

Registrar Turned To Frank. Never In The Course Of His Experience Had

The Like Occurred. He Was Extremely Sorry That He (Mr. Escott) Had

Been Present. True,  They Were Not Situated In A Fashionable

Neighbourhood,  The People Were Ignorant,  And It Was Often Difficult

To Get Them To Sign Their Names Correctly; But He Was Bound To Admit

That They Were Orderly,  And Seemed To Realize,  He Would Say,  The

Seriousness Of The Transaction.

 

"It Is," Said The Registrar,  "Our Object To Maintain The Strictly

Legal Character Of The Ceremony--The Contract,  I Should Say--And To

Avoid Any Affectation Of Ritual Whatsoever. I Regret That You,  Sir,  A

Representative Of The Press ..."

 

"The Nephew And Heir To Lord Mount Rorke," Suggested The Clerk.

 

The Registrar Bowed,  And Murmured That He Did Not Know He Had That

Honour. Then He Spoke For Some Time Of The Moral Good The Registry

Offices Had Effected Among The Working Classes; How They Had Allowed

The Poor--For Instance,  The Person Who Has Been Known For Years In

The Neighbourhood As Mrs. Thompson,  To Legalize Her Cohabitation

Without Scandal.

 

But Frank Thought Only Of His Wife,  When He Should Clasp Her Hand,

Saying,  "Dearest Wife!" He Had Brought His Dramatic And

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