It was the bridegroom in his shroud!
No garb but that of the grave could have befitted such a
deathlike aspect; the eyes, indeed, had the wild gleam of a sepulchral
lamp; all else was fixed in the stern calmness which old men wear in
the coffin. The corpse stood motionless, but addressed the widow in
accents that seemed to melt into the clang of the bell, which fell
heavily on the air while he spoke.
"Come, my bride!" said those pale lips, "the hearse is ready. The
sexton stands waiting for us at the door of the tomb. Let us be
married; and then to our coffins!"
How shall the widow's horror be represented? It gave her the
ghastliness of a dead man's bride. Her youthful friends stood apart,
shuddering at the mourners, the shrouded bridegroom, and herself;
the whole scene expressed, by the strongest imagery, the vain struggle
of the gilded vanities of this world, when opposed to age,
infirmity, sorrow, and death. The awestruck silence was first broken
by the clergyman.
"Mr. Ellenwood," said he, soothingly, yet with somewhat of
authority, "you are not well. Your mind has been agitated by the
unusual circumstances in which you are placed.
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