Night closed in, but still no guest arrived. The baron descended
from the tower in despair. The banquet, which had been delayed
from hour to hour, could no longer be postponed. The meats were
already overdone, the cook in an agony, and the whole household
had the look of a garrison, that had been reduced by famine. The
baron was obliged reluctantly to give orders for the feast
without the presence of the guest. All were seated at table, and
just on the point of commencing, when the sound of a horn from
without the gate gave notice of the approach of a stranger.
Another long blast filled the old courts of the castle with its
echoes, and was answered by the warder from the walls. The baron
hastened to receive his future son-in-law.
The drawbridge had been let down, and the stranger was before the
gate. He was a tall gallant cavalier, mounted on a black steed.
His countenance was pale, but he had a beaming, romantic eye and
an air of stately melancholy. The baron was a little mortified
that he should have come in this simple, solitary style. His
dignity for a moment was ruffled, and he felt disposed to
consider it a want of proper respect for the important occasion
and the important family with which he was to be connected.
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