More important folk claimed the attention of the newly wedded pair, and Mr.Mocket had not yet appeared when at last the gathering, bound for the wedding feast at Mrs.Selden's, deserted the interior of the church and flowed out under the portico and down the steps to the churchyard and the coaches waiting in the road.

Lewis and Jacqueline Rand came down the path between the midsummer flowers.

They were at the gate when the sight and sound of a horse coming at a gallop along the road drew from Rand an exclamation.

"Tom Mocket--and his horse in a lather! There's news of some kind--" It was so evident, when the horse and rider came to a stop before the church gate, that there was news of some kind, that the wedding guests, gentle and simple, left all talk and all employment to crowd the grassy space between the gate and the road and to demand enlightenment.
Mocket's horse was spent, and Mocket's face was fiery red and eager.

He gasped, and wiped his face with a great flowered handkerchief.