Vendale returns to his bride, and draws her hand through his unmainied arm.  A pretty procession awaits them at the main door of the church.  They take their station in it, and descend the street amidst the ringing of the bells, the firing of the guns, the waving of the flags, the playing of the music, the shouts, the smiles, and tears, of the excited town.  Heads are uncovered as she passes, hands are kissed to her, all the people bless her.  “Heaven’s benediction on the dear girl!  See where she goes in her youth and beauty; she who so nobly saved his life!”

Near the corner of the street the second to the right, he speaks to her, and calls her attention to the windows on the opposite side.  The corner well passed, he says:  “Do not look round, my darling, for a reason that I have,” and turns his head.  Then, looking back along the street, he sees the litter and its bearers passing up alone under the arch, as he and she and their marriage train go down towards the shining valley.