He believed her other than she
was;--but it was too late--she dared not undeceive him.
The nuptial morning dawned. The party, not more than twelve or
fourteen in all, assembled within the little edifice, whose nature
had so puzzled Arthur. Its interior was as peculiar as its outward
appearance: its walls, of polished cedar, were unadorned with either
carving, pictures, or imagery. In the centre, facing the east, was a
sort of raised table or desk, surrounded by a railing, and covered
with a cloth of the richest and most elaborately worked brocade.
Exactly opposite, and occupying the centre of the eastern wall, was
a sort of lofty chest, or ark; the upper part of which, arched, and
richly painted, with a blue ground, bore in two columns, strange
hieroglyphics in gold: beneath this were portals of polished cedar,
panelled, and marked out with gold, but bearing no device; their
hinges set in gilded pillars, which supported the arch above. Before
these portals were generally drawn curtains, of material rich and
glittering as that upon the reading-desk. But this day not only were
the curtains drawn aside, but the portals themselves flung open, as
the bridal party neared the steps which led to it, and disclosed six
or seven rolls of parchment, folded on silver pins, and filled with
the same strange letters, each clothed in drapery of variously colored
brocade, or velvet, and surmounted by two sets of silver ornaments,
in which the bell and pomegranate were, though small, distinctly
discernible.
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