“Still in the pure espousal,Of Christian man and maid.”
“Still in the pure espousal,Of Christian man and maid.”
“Still in the pure espousal,Of Christian man and maid.”
“Still in the pure espousal,
Of Christian man and maid.”
Then suddenly he caught sight of the face which had more than once been pressed to his, of the eyes which had lured him on so cruelly. It was only for a moment. She passed by with her attendant bride-maids, and black darkness seemed to fallupon him, though he stood there outwardly calm, just like an indifferent spectator.
“Did you see her?” exclaimed his neighbor. “My! aint she jest pretty! Satin dress, aint it?”
“No, bless your heart! not satin,” replied the other. “’Twas brocade, and a guinea a yard, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Yet through all the whispering and the subdued noise of the great congregation he could hear Blanche’s clear voice. “I will always trust you,” she had said to him on Munkeggen. Now he heard her answer “I will” to another question.
After that, prayers and hymns seemed all mixed up in a wild confusion. Now and then, between the heads of the crowd, he caught a vision of a slim, white-robed figure, and presently Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” was struck up, and he knew that she would pass down the aisle once more. Would her face be turned in his direction? Yes; for a little child scattered flowers before her, and she glanced round at it with a happy, satisfied smile. As for Frithiof, he just stood there passively, and no one watching him could have known of the fierce anguish that wrung his heart. As a matter of fact, nobody observed him at all; he was a mere unit in the crowd; and with human beings all round him, yet in absolute loneliness, he passed out of the church into the chill autumnal air, to
“Take up his burden of life again,Saying only, ‘It might have been.’”
“Take up his burden of life again,Saying only, ‘It might have been.’”
“Take up his burden of life again,Saying only, ‘It might have been.’”
“Take up his burden of life again,
Saying only, ‘It might have been.’”