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were two peons, a young man and a girl, both in wedding finery. They evidently had come for the legal ceremony which in Venezuela must follow the religious ceremony, for as the car stopped a number of voices became audible: “There is his Excellency!” “In the motor, not in the palacio!” The priest lifted his voice:

“Your Excellency, here are a man and a woman who desire—”

While the priest was speaking, a graceful figure ran up the ornamental steps and stood out strongly against the white marble.

“Your Excellency,” he called, “I must object to this wedding! I require time. I represent the father of the bride. It is my paternal duty, your Excellency, to investigate this suitor.”

Every one in the line stared at the figure on the steps. The priest began in an astonished voice:

“How is this, my son?”

“I represent the father of this girl,” asserted the man on the steps, warmly. “I must look into the character of this bridegroom. A father, your Excellency, is a tender relation.”

A sudden outbreak came from the party:

Who is this man?“ ”What does he mean by ‘father’? Madruja's father is with the ‘reds.’ “

General Fombombo, who had been watching the little scene passively, from the motor, now scrutinized the girl herself. It drew Strawbridge's attention to her. She was a tall pantheress of a girl, and the wavering torchlight at one moment displayed and the next concealed her rather wild black eyes, full lips, and a certain untamed beauty of face. Her husband-elect was a hard, weather-worn youth. The coupling together of two such creatures did seem rather incongruous.

General Fombombo asked a few questions as he stepped out