clergyman courageous enough to enter the cagewith us.
"Well, there's no call for him to be _inside_ of it," said Mr Niono,who was with us, heart and soul, by this time. "In fact, the lady andyourself are about as many as I could undertake to be answerable for.We could rig him up a perch outside to read the service from,comfortable."
Even so, I said, I was afraid that it was hardly a service one couldask any divine to perform.
"I know a party who'd jump at it," said Mr Niono, who was full ofresource. "The Reverend Skipworth. _You_ know who I mean, Sawkins.Little chap in a check suit and goggles I introduced to you at the barthe other evening--always dropping in, he is. He'd do it, just for thelark of the thing. And he's a regular professional, you know," headded for my benefit, "though he don't sport a white choker in hisoff hours; likes to go about and see life for himself, and quiteright. You get the licence, sir, and I'll guarantee that the ReverendNinian Skipworth will do the job for you."
So we left the hall, delighted, especially Lurana, with the unexpectedease with which our object had been attained. It had seemed at firstthe wildest extravagance, and now there was apparently every prospectthat Lurana and I would really exchange our marriage vows in a den offorest-bred lions, unless (which, of course, was a possibility thathad to be taken into account) the ecclesiastical authorities shouldrefuse to grant a special licence.
I was unable to apply in person at Doctors' Commons, for Luranainsisted that I should leave the whole matter in Chuck's hands, but Iimpressed upon him the necessity of absolute candour with theofficials.
Whether he told them all, whether they were remiss in making fullinquiry, or whether--as I would rather not think--he intentionallydeceived them, I cannot say, but at all events he came backtriumphantly with the special licence.
Wooker and Sawkins had fixed an early date, and wished the wedding totake place at night, so as to figure in the evening programme, but theSurrogate, or somebody at the office, had insisted that it must be inthe afternoon, which would, of course, oblige Mr Sawkins to introduceit at a _matinee_ performance.
Miss Rakestraw proved herself a born journalist. She placed her newsat the disposal of an enterprising evening journal, whose bills thatvery same evening came out with startling and alliterative headlinessuch as:
LOVE LAUGHS AT LIONS!
_Canonbury Couple to Marry in Cageful of Carnivora._
and from that moment, as the reader will recollect, Lurana and Ibecame public characters.
There were portraits--quite unrecognisable--of us in several of theillustrated weeklies, together with sketches of and interviews with usboth, contributed by Miss Ruth's facile stylograph, and an account ofthe Professor, contributed by himself.
As for the daily papers there was scarcely one, from the _Times_downwards, which did not contain a leader, a paragraph, or a letter onthe subject of our contemplated wedding. Some denounced me violentlyfor foolhardy rashness, others for the selfishness with which I wasencouraging an impressionable girl to risk her life to gratify mymasculine vanity. Several indignantly demanded whether it was truethat the Archbishop had sanctioned such a scandalous abuse of marriagerites, and if so, what the Home Office were about?
There was a risk that all this publicity would end in the authoritiesbeing compelled to interfere and countermand the ceremony, and yet Icannot honestly say that I disliked the fuss that was made about it.In the City, to be sure, I had to put up with a certain amount ofchaff; facetious inquiries as to whether I intended to present theleonine bridesmaids with bones or pieces of raw meat, and the preciselocality in which my wife and I thought of spending our honeymoon. Butsuch _badinage_ covered a very genuine respect for my intrepidity, andI was looked upon as a credit to the tea trade.
The appointed day was getting nearer and nearer, and still--sowonderfully did Fortune befriend us--the authorities gave no sign ofany intention to interfere. Parliament had not yet reassembled, so noone could rise and put a question in the House to the Home Secretary,and if Government officials ever read the morning papers, it seemedthat they did not feel called upon to take cognisance of anything theyread there, unless compelled to do so by pressure from without.
Nor did the Archbishop take any steps. No doubt he may have beenunaware of the precise conditions under which the ceremony was to besanctioned, and the same remark applies to the Bishop of London. It istrue that their attention was drawn to the facts by more than onepostcard, as I have reason to know. But some people make apractice--and it is not for me to condemn them--of taking no notice ofanonymous communications.
However, as the time drew on, I thought it would be only proper on mypart to go and call upon the Reverend Ninian Skipworth, the curatewith whom our energetic friend, Mr Niono, had now made all thenecessary arrangements, and find out, quietly, what his state of mindwas. He might be wavering, in which case I should have to strengthenhis resolution. Or he might not yet have realised all the possibleconsequences of his good nature, and if so, I should not be actingfairly towards him if I did not lay them before him, even though theresult should be that he withdrew from his engagement.
Niono had given me his address, and I looked in at the curate'sunpretentious lodgings one evening on my way home. I found him in, andas soon as he learnt my name, he offered me whisky and soda and acigar with most unparsonical joviality.
A Cleric of the broad-minded school.]
The Reverend Ninian, I found, was a cleric of the broad-minded schoolwhich scorns conventional restrictions; he held that if the Churchwas to maintain its influence, it must follow the trend of modernprogress, and neglect no opportunity of winning the hearts of thepeople. He was only sorry, he told me, that the prejudices of hisBishop would prevent him from reading the service inside the cage.
I replied gratefully that I was sufficiently indebted to him as itwas, since if his connection with the affair reached the episcopalear, he would be in serious danger of being suspended, even if he didnot receive some still heavier punishment.
"Oh, don't you bother about that!" he said, cheerily; "it's awfullygood of you to trouble yourself on my account; but if the Bishop issuch an old stick-in-the-mud as to haul me up for a little thing likethis, I shall simply chuck up the Church altogether, that's all! Infact, I've almost decided to do it in any case, for I believe I coulddo more real good outside the Establishment than in. And I admire yourpluck, my dear fellow, and your manly straightforwardness in cominghere like this; and I'm hanged if I don't marry you and chance theconsequences, so don't say another word about it."
I didn't, though I need not say I was profoundly moved by the genuinesympathy and assistance which our project seemed to inspire in themost unexpected quarters.
My one anxiety now was about Lurana. Outwardly she appeared cheerfuland even gay, and thoroughly to enjoy her position as the heroine ofthe hour; but how could I be sure that this was genuine and not ahighstrung hysterical self-repression which would be succeeded by aviolent reaction, it might be in the lions' cage itself?
From that at all hazards she must be saved. Earnestly, seriously, Ipointed out how much would depend on her maintaining perfect coolnessand composure during the ceremony, and implored her, if she felt theslightest misgivings, the smallest tendency to shrink in secret fromthe coming ordeal, not to allow any false pride to close her lips.There was still time, I reminded her. If on second thoughts, shepreferred to be married in the old time-honoured way, instead of in aMenagerie den, she had only to say so. Her happiness and comfort werethe chief things to consider.
"Withdraw now, Theodore?" she said, "after announcing it in all thepapers! Why, how _could_ we?"
"I would take all that upon myself," I told her; "I need only say thatyou don't feel quite equal to facing lions."
"But I _do_, Theodore," she said, "the dear, ducky, pussy-faced oldthings! Who could possibly be afraid of lions--especially with MrNiono to protect us?"
"If you knew more _about_ lions, Lurana," I said, "you would know howliable they are t
o sudden rages, and how little even lion-tamersthemselves--"
"If you go on like that, Theodore," she said, "I shall begin to thinkthat you want to frighten me--and even that you are just a littlefrightened yourself. But I'm not to be frightened. I should not be mymother's daughter if I had any fear of animals. And once for all, youwill either marry me in the lions' cage or not at all!"
"If you go on like that I shall begin to think you wantto frighten me."]
I saw that I should only be exposing myself to furthermisunderstanding if I pursued the subject. Lurana had that quality ofcourage which springs from a total lack of imagination; she had neverseen a performing lion ramp and roar, and it was inconceivable to herthat one could ever indulge in such exercises. Still less did sheunderstand that there is another type of courage,