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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par M premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symbolas suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole ■-*■■ ignifie "A SUIVRE", le synrbole V signifie ' fIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction dfffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 "■. PMP A CASTLE IN SPAIN. V. X^ i/n " r^^ f /T ■^')K • ,/■ 'icr" m-.-m The bench tilted up^ and his royal penon went d(m>n. CASTLE IN SPAIN / A NOVEL BY JAMES DE MILLE % II )) n CHATTO AND WINDUS, 1884 PICCADILLY All rights resen,'ed fl ni I VI XI XII xn XV XV] CONTENTS. 1 [niAPTER I. HOW A TARTY OF TRAVELLEHS SET OUT ON' A .lOURN^IY II. HOW MR. ASHHV MEET.S WITH A VERY DEAR AND VERf LOVELY YOl'XG FRIEKD , ' • t , nr. now ashry meets with another FRiE.vn, and how he TAKES HIM INTO HIS CONFIDENCE * • • rv. HOW THE RAILWAY TilAIN COMES TO A Sl'DDEN STOP V. MOW THE WHOLE TARTY COME TO GRIEF, AND ARE CARRIED AWAY CATTIVE . VI. HOW HARRY AND KATIE MANAGE TO ENJOY THEMSELVES IN THEIR CAPTIVE STATE VII, IN WNICH HARRY RECOMES CONFIDENTIAL, AND TELLS A VERY REMARKABLE STORY VIII. HOW THE SPANISH PRIEST MEETS WITH A STRANGE ADVENfURE 35 IX. IN WHICH THE PRIEST SEES A VISION, AND GOES IN SEARCH OP A BREAKFAST X. HOW THE PRIEST BEARDS A LION IN HIS DEN . XI. HOW THE FIRST PRIEST VANISHES, AND ANOTHER PRIEST APPEARS rPON THE SCENE ' • . , XII. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT TAKE TO FLIGHT XIU. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT MAKE SEVERAL NEW ACQUAINTANCES 63 XIV. HOW THE ANXIOUS RUSSELL SEEKS TO CONCEAL A TREASURE . 67 XV. IN WHICH RUSSELL UNDERGOES AN EXAMINATION . 74 XVI. HOW RUSSELL HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH A MERRY M0N.1rCH . 81 11 ir. 19 27 43 48 52 f)7 t I vi coxrr.xTs. xvu. now MAiiio' iiNos llI^tHK^^• vKiiv mitii ovKn-EsTiM.\TEt), am. AKTEHWARO LKJIITs ITON A GLOOMY MYf^TKllV . . «; XVIII. IN WHICII HAUUY VIKLDH TO AN I'NCONTnOLLAnLK IMrtl.SE, ANimiSKS HIS LIFE IN A KAUINiJ AinENTLIlK . . 1 XIX. IN WHICII DOLOHKS INDILOES IN ^S0M1•: HE.MINI.SCEN(.'ES OK Till; PAST ....... 101 XX. IN WHICH • HIS MAJESTY ' EXHIIHTS THE EMOTIONS OF A ROYAL llOSOM, AND MRS. Rl'JSELL IS DAZZLED IIY A BRILLIANT PROSPECT . . . . . . lO? XXI. IN WHICH imOOKE AND TALBOT BEGIN TO GROW VERY WELL ACQUAINTED , . . . . . HQ XXII. HOW TALBOT HAS LIFE AND FREEDOM OFFERED, AND HOW SHE DECLINES THE OFFER . . . .11" XXm. IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT EXCHANGE CONFIDENCES . 122 XXIV. IN WHICH BROOKR AND TALBOT STAND FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH . . . . . . .129 XXV. IN WHICH BROOKE SINGS AND TALKS IN A LIGHT AND TRIFLING MANNER . ' . . . . . . \% XXVI. HOW MR. ASHBY MEETS WITH A GREAT SURPRISE AND A VERY GREAT CONSOLATION . . . . .11] XXVII. HOV/ MR. ASHBY AND MISS DOLORES GARCIA CARRY ON A VERY INTERESTING CONVERSATION . . . . 1 17 XXVIIL IN WHICH ' HIS MAJESTY* FALLS IN LOVE . . l.'l XXIX. HOW HARRY PAYS ANOTHER VISIT, AND BIEETS WITH A STRANGE ADVENTURE ..... l.'>.'i XXX. HOW SEVERAL OF OUR FRIENDS FIND THEMSELVES IN A MOST EXTRAORDINARY SITUATION . . . I'O XXXI. IN WHICH THE WHOLE PARTY FIND THEMSELVES IN A HAUNTED CASTLE . . . . .103 XXXII. IN WHICH HARRY MAKES AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY . .107 XXXIII. IN WHICH THERE IS A VERY PRETTY QUARREL . .171 X| r COXTJIXTS. Vll MATF.Ii, ANit . ,>7 . IM C'KS OP Till: . 101 OK A nOVAL DUILLIANT . 10'. VEHY WELL . 110 ANn now . 117 NCE.S . 12'2 PACE WITH . 12? lAi'Tri: VM.r. IXXIV. now TliE VlllTlOLS l(ls-,KLL KFSn.S A FHIES'D IN NKF.Ii . 170 XXXV. IN WHICH TWO Fl'OITIVES HAVK A STARTLING ADVENTIIIE, NOT WITHOUT I'EniL , , . . .185 [XXXVI. HOW DANCEHS THICKEN AROrND THE DESPAmiNU niSHELL . If 8 "!^XXVII. IN WHICH Ill-iSELL MAKES NEW FIIIKNDS, AND TALHOT MEEH NEW I'EUILS . . . . . .102 tXVni. IN WHICH, AKTEH A SKIUEM OF .SrHPKISES, ' HIH MAJESTY' liETS THE tillKATEHT SlItl'IUsE O!' ALL . . .' 19S XXXIX. HOW I.OI'EZ AGAIN MEETS WITH KATIE, AND HOW KATIE HUOWA NO JOY AT HER DELIVEUANCK . . . 20.' XL. IN WHICH THEItE SEEMa SOME CHANCE OF A TRIANGULAR DUEL ...... 208 XLI. HOW THE UNHAPI'V RUSSKLL FINDS THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH EDGE-TOOLS ..... 212 XLII. IN WHICH DOLORE.S RKAPPEAllS IN THE ACT OF MAKINO A RECONNOITRE ...... 210 XLIII. HOW K.\TIK FEELS DEJECTED, AND HOW LOPEZ FEELS DIS- APPOINTED ...... 220 XLIV. HOW LOPEZ HAS ANOTHER CONVKRS.VTION WITH KATIE, AND FEELS PUZZLED ..... . 224 XLV. IN WHICH HARHV ASKS A FAVOUR, AND LOPEZ BEGINS TO SEE A LITTLE LIGHT . . . . . .22? XLVI. IN WHICH LOPEZ MAKES A FRESH ASSAULT, AND K.\TIK BREAKS DOWN UTTERLY , , . , .231 XLVII. IN WHICH LOPEZ USES HIS ADVANTAGE TO THE UTTERMOST, AND KATIE SINKS INTO DEEPER DESPAIR . . . 235 XLVTII. HOW LOPEZ GOES TO SEE THE PRIEST ABOUT HIS MARRIAGE . 239 XLIX, HOW LOPEZ INVITES HARRY TO HIS WEDDING, AND HOW HARRY MAKES A DISTURBANCE .... 244 L. HOW LOPEZ INVITES THE PRIEST TO MARRY HIM, AND HOW THE PRIEST MAKES A DISTURBANCE . . .248 m •• • Vlll CONTENTS. ■II' CHAPTEK PA(.K LI. IN WHICH AN INTERRUPTION OCCURS IN A MARRIAGE CEREMONY ...... 2^2 MI. IN WHICH TALBOT TAKES OFF HER DISGUISE . . 257 LIII. WHICH TELLS OF A REUNION OF VERY DEAR OLD FRIENDS . 200 LIV. IN WHICH A NUMBER OF PEOPLE FIND THEMSELVES IN A VERY EMBARRASSING SITUATION .... 2Gl LV. HOW HARRY AND KATIE DISCUSS THE SITUATION, AND ASHBY TELLS DOLORES HER DUTY . . . .271 LVI. IN WHICH THERE IS A TERRIBLE CALAMITY , . 275 LVII. IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT PREPARE TO BID EACH OTHER AN ETERNAL FAREWELL . . . .278 LVIII. IN WHICH SOME OLD FRIENDS REAPPEAR . . .283 LIX. HOW A SURPRISE-PARTY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED . . 290 LX. IN WHICH THE KING COMES TO CLAIM HIS OWN . . 293 LXI. IN WHICH THERE IS AN END OF MY STORY . . . 298 The statio Throi dvili; mingl steam and F men : entrau ordiua of me aombr beariii of the beftnii eyes, fuxeu chaliu caaei At peopl( Men 1 Tin elderl evidei name] airay Ipic TAOK i MARRIAGt . 252 . 257 FRIENDS . 2C0 ELVES IN A . 2Gi AND ASHBY BID EACH D . 271 275 278 2S3 290 293 298 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. CHAPTER I. 'how a p^\rty of travellers set out ox a journey. The train for the Xortli was about to start from ^Madrid, aud the station was lilled witli tlie usual varied aud bustling crowd. Throngs of soliliers were there ; throngs of priests ; throngs of civilians ; throngs of ])easants ; all moving to and fro, i.^ter- mingled with the railway em])loy6s, and showing the power of atoam to stir up even the lazy Spaniard to unwonted punctuality and portentous activity. lu the midst of this busy scene two mtfi stood apart, each by himself, with eyes fixed upon the entrance, as though expecting some one whose advent was of no ordinary importance. One of these was an unmistakable Spaniard, df medium size, dark complexion, penetrating black eyes, and SOttibre countenance. His dress was that of a civilian, but his bearing was military, and his face and general expression savoured of the camp. The other w as an Englishman, with all his country beiniiug in Ins face, tall in stature, light in complexion, with gray He had a thin moustache, He stood in an easy, non- eyes, and open, frank expression maen side whiskers, and no beard. chalant attitude, with an eye-glass stuck in one eye, and a I'ght ca&e in his hand, which he switched carelessly upon his leg. .;A.t length the two were roused by the approa* h of a party of pie who were undoubtedly the very ones for whom they had jsn thus waiting. iThis party consisted of three persons. First, there was an ierly man, florid, stoutisli, and fussy — the Paterfamilias of inch, with a dash of the heavy father of comedy. He was ently in a terrible strait, and halting between two opinions, t'ly, whether he should stay and watch over his family, or go }' and see after his luggage. hen there was a lady of certain or uncertain age — a faded, ihed-out blonde, who surveyed the scene with r, mixture of idatiou aud caution. Neither of these, however, could have 1 II 2 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. had any interest in the eyes of the two watchers ; and it mus have been the third member of this pa' ty wlio hadjud thoiu t( lie ill wait. In truth, this third one see».ied well worthy of suc's attention. She was a young lady, of slight and elegant figure ; with a swttt and lovely face, round, arch, full of liveliness, merrimeut, aul volatility, which were expressed in every glance of her sparkHi,. eyes. And while the man fidgeted and the woman fussed, tLi^ young person stood with admirable self-possession, looking rouni inquiringly, as though she too might be expecting some one, Paterfamilias hesitated a little longer, and then made up hi; mind, for, telling die ladies to wait, he hurried away after his luggage. No sooner had he gone than the two young men, Avhc had held back till then, hurried to the spot. The Englishiaai reached it first. The elder lady, on seeing him, stared for .u instant, and then abruptly turned her back, thus giving him tli- cut direct in the most pointed and insulting manner. In tliiis turning she found herself face to face with the Spaniard, -wLj made a very ceremonious bow, saying : * It gif me mooch pleasure, Madame Eussell, to pay my respett-^, an' to weesh the good-day.' At this the lady hesitated, as though intending to give this man also the cut, but finally she chose to be gracious ; so extend- ing her hand, she said : ' Thanks, Captain Lopez, I'm glad to see you, for Mr. Paisstli has left us, and I'm a little frightened in this crowd.' * Oh, then,' said Lopez, ' I hope to haf the honnaire to coudut you to the cai'riage, and to say the adios.' *0h, thanks,' said Mrs. Russell, 'I shall really feel very much obliged.' Now the Euglishman had scarcely seemed to notice the insult of Mrs. Russell ; for, brushing past her, he had instantly advanced towards the young lady aforesaid, and. seized her haud with a quick, strong, hungry grasp. And the young lady afore- said, whose eyes had been fixed on him as he advanced, grasped his hand also, while a flush passed over her lovely face, and her eyes rested upon him with a look which might well thrill througli and through the favoured recipient of such a glance. * Why, Mr. Ashby !' said she, in innocent surprise, * you hero! * Katie,' said Ashby, in a tremulous voice, ' little darling,' lie continued, in a lower tone, ' didu't you know that I'd be here I' ' Well, I should have felt disappointed,' said Katie softly, 'if you had not been here.' At this moment Mrs. Russell turned, and said sharply : * Come, Katie.' ' All right,' said Ashby coolly ; ' I'll see Misa Westlotorn ou board the train.' 01 A CASTLE Ly SPAIX. ers ; and it mns: hadjcd tlicm t( •f sue' J attention, re ; with a swttt , merriment, aud of her aparkliu,; )man fussed, tLiJ )u, looking rouni. g some one, lieu made up hi, :l away after lii* young men, ^vlio The Englislnii.ii: 03, stared for ai. 3 giving him tlit anner. In tlui^ e Spaniard, wU paymyrespott>, iug to give this ions ; so extenij- for Mr. Ptusseli wd.' inaire to coudut feel very miicli lotice the insult had instantly seized her hauJ ung lady afore- .'anced, gras])e(i y face, and her thrill througli !e. se, *you here! lie darling,' he I'd be here \ latie softly, ' if larply : iVestlotoru ou Mrs. Euasell looked vexed. ' Katie,' said she, ' I wish you to stay by me.' ♦Oh yes, auntie dearest,' said Katie, with her usual self- )ssession ; * of course I shall.' But she made not the slightest movement to leave Asliby, aud lis annoyed Mrs. lUissell all the more. She looked all around, though for help. The Spaniard's eyes were all ablaze with ^rath and jealousy, ' JNIadame Russell,' said he, in an eager voice, ' commanda me, jbeg, I shall help.' Tiiese words wore plainly audible to Ashby, who, however, ilv smiled. 'Madame,' said Lopez, still more eagerly, 'commanda me. ball I condut the mces i' For a moment Mrs. Russell seemed inclined to accept ihe prof- l^rred aid, but it was only for a moment. The good lady was ttmid. She dreaded a scene. A quarrel in so public a place between these two jealous and hot-headed youths would be too terrible, so she at once gave way. . ' Oh no, no,' she said hurriedly. * Thanks, Cajttain Lopez, I lliink I shall ask you to conduct me to our carriage. Mr. Russell Hill be with us immediately.' ; Upon this Lopez otlered his arm, which !Mrs. Russell took, and i||»ey both went ott". Asliby followed slowly with Katie. * Katie,' said he, after a ])ause, * I'm going too.' i! ' What !' said Katie in a joyous voice, ' in this train V 'Yes, along with you.' ' How perfectly lovely !' said Katie, which expression showed tfcat these two were on very good terms with one another. * But fhen, you know,' she resumed, ' Mi-. Russell has the carriage for 1^ only.' ? * Oh, well, it's all the same,' said Ashby. ' I'm going on in the ikme train. That will be happiness enough. But see here,' he ijided in a hurried voice, ' take this letter ;' and with this he t pped a letter into her hand, which she instantly concealed iu Hier pocket. * I'll see you to-night at Burgos,' he continued in a few tone, ' and then at Biarritz or Bayonne. I have friends in ^th places. You must do what I ask you. You must be mine. %o\\ must, darling. Don't mind these confounded Russells. ley're nothing to you, compared with me. Russell has no right interfere. He's not your uncle ; he's only a miscra'j^j lardian ; and he's a contemptible scoundrel too, aud I told hira to his face. He's planning to get you to marry that cad of a |>n of his. But read my letter. Make up your mind to-day, irliug. I'll see you to-night at Burgos.' Ashby poured forth this in a quiet, low, earnest voice as they iversed the short space that lay between them and the cars, 1—2 I A CASTLE LY SPAIN. while Katie listened in silence. Meanwhile the others had reached a carriage, which Mrs. Russell entered : Lopez immediately followed. 'Oh, look!' cried Katie; 'Captain Lopez has gone into our carriage. He must be going to travel with us.' ' The infernal sneak !' growled Ashby. * But then,' he con- tinued, ' what's the use of that ? He can't go. Why, old Sussell hates him worse than me.' At this moment Mrs. Russell put forth her head. ' Katie !' she called, in a thin, shrill voice. * Yes, auntie dear,' said Katie. ' In a moment,' chimed in Ashby. ' Perhaps I'd better go,' said Katie ; * she's so horrid, you know.' ' Then,' said Ashby, ' good-bye for the present, my own darling.' Saying this, he took her in his arms and deliberately kissed her two or three times. Katie then darted away and entered tho carriage, to find Mrs. Russell speechless with indignation. The moment Katie had gone, up came Russell in a fury. ' Look here, sir !' he cried, shaking his fist at Ashby. * I say, sir ! Look here, sir ! You scoundrel ! Didn't I tell you ' * And look here, you !' said Ashby, in a stern voice, laying his hand heavily on the other's shoulder, * none of this insolence, my good man, or I shall have to teach you better manners. You know perfectly well that Katie is engaged to me, and that I meau to make her my wife.' * You shall never !' cried Russell passionately ; * never — never I' 'Pooh !' exclaimed Ashby contemptuously. ' I'm her guai'dian,' said Russell. ' That may be,' said Ashby calmly, ' but only for a few months longer. I can wait. Don't be alarmed.' * You shall never marry her !' * Pooh, my good man ! attend to your luggage.' Muttering inarticulate threats, mingled with curses, Russell now stamped off, and entered the carriage. Here he found Lopez. At the sight of this man his fury burst all bounds. With Ashby he had felt under some restraint ; but with Lopez there was nothing of the kind, and he ordered him out in the most insulting manner. Lopez, however, refused to stir, telling him that Madame Russell had given him permission to remain. ' Madame Russell be hanged !' roared the other, of this, or else I'll kick you out !' 'No, seiior,' said Lopez coolly, 'I advisa you not to try violencia.' For a moment Russell measured him from head to foot ; but the sight of the sinewy young Spaniard did not reassure hiiu. His own musclea were somewhat flabby, and by no means fit for ' You get out ^1 ' he others had )ez immediately gone into our then,' he con- Hiy, old Russell 1. so horrid, you ly own darling.' berately kissed md entered the ignatiou. The Lshby. * I say, tell you '' 'oice, laying his :s insolence, my manners. You |ud that I nieau never — never I' ' a few moutlis urses, Russell found Loi)ez. With Ashby )ez there was most insulting iig him that in. ' You get out not to try to foot ; hut reassure hiui. means fit for A CASTLE LY SPA/X. 5 struggle with this vigorous youth. So he chose another and a ifer mode. He sprang out and Ijegan to bawl loudly for the liiard. But, very unfortunately, Russell could not si)eak a \ford Spanish, and when the guard came up he could not explain ^imself. And so Russell, after all, might have had to travel with Us unwelcome companion had not an unexpected ally ai)peared lipon the scene. This was Ashby, who had been standing by, and lad comi^reheuded the whole situation. Now Ashby could speak Ppanish like a native. f ' See here, Russell,' said he, ' I don't mind giving you a lift. iJThat's the row i' I Ifussell hesitated for a moment, but his rage against Loj)ez liad i!|uite swallowed u]) his anger at Ashby, and he accepted the aid ((rf the latter. So he went on to explain what Ashby very well knew — the situation in the carriage. Ashby thereujwn explained to the guard. The guard then ordered Lopez out. At whidi summons the gallant captain thought tit to beat a retreat, which he etfeeted in good order, drums beating and colours flying, and ^th many expressions of polite regret to the ladies and many Ifrishes for a pleasant journey. Arriving outside, however, our iioble hidalgo found the blast of war blowing, and so he at once jjjroceeded to stifl'en his sinews and summon up his blood. Taking iio notice of Russell, he advanced to Ashby. 'Sefior,' said he in Spanish, 'for the part that you have taken this matter I will call you to account.' Ashby smiled disdainfully. * You have insulted me,' said Lopez fiercely. ' This insrltmust washed out in blood — your heart's blood or mine. I am going this train.' * Indeed ! So am I,' said Ashby. * We shall find a place — and a time.' * Whenever you please,' said the other shortly. * Sefior, I will communicate with you.' Both the young men bowed, and with their hearts full of hate ey sepai'ated to take their places in the train. And now at this rticular juncture there came forth from behind a pillar a _ male figure, which figure had been there for some time, and pad closely watched the whole of Ashby's proceedings from begin- liling to end. It was impossible to see her face, but her graceful iipaj)e, and quiet, active movements, indicated youth, and suggested possible beauty. This figure hastened towards the train, and filtered the very carriage into which Ashby had gone. The -j|ext moment the guard banged the door to behind her, the great well rang, the engine puffed and snorted, and then, with the roar M steam, the clank of machinery, and the rumble of many wheels, |he long train thundered out of the station on its eventful journey m the North. & A CASTLE IN SPAIX. I ! I |l' m HOW MR. CHAPTER II. ASIIBY MEETS WITH A VERY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND. AND VERY LOVELY On entevipg the carriage AshLy took a .seat and prepared t ) make himself comfortable for tiie journey. The hunicd events of the last few minutes, the farewell to Katie, the prospect of ;i new meeting at Burgos, the additional prospect of a hostili- encounter with Lopez, woi'e certninly sufficient food for reflection. Consequently he was in a ilt of abstraction so profound that lio did not notice the female who entered the carriage. As the train rolled out, the new-comer also made herself com- fortable in her seat, which, being opposite to that of Ashby, gaw her the opportunity of examining his face at her leisure, if she felt so inclined, while she herself was so closely veiled as to l)allli' recognition. Her dress, though very plain, was in the latest fashion, and she woi'e with inimitable grace that marvellous Spanish mantilla which is equally ada])ted to adorn and to conceal. Although in the opposite seat, she was not close to Ashby, Ijut at the other end of the carriage, in which position she could watch him the more easily. These two were the only occupants. Once or twice Ashby's eyes fell on her as he raised his head oi changed his position, but he paid no attention to her, nor did he even seem aware of her existence ; while she sat veiled, so that the direction of her glance could not be seen. For about half an hour the situation remained unaltered, and then at the end of that time the lady made a readjustment of hor mantilla, which exposed all her head and face. The hands wliicli were raised to perform this act were soft, round, plump, and dimpled, and might of themselves have attracted the admiration of one less preoccupied than Ashby ; while the face that was now revealed was one which might have roused the dullest of mortals. It was a dark olive face, with features of exquisite delicacy ; the eyes were large, lustrous, and melting, fringed with long lashes : the eyebrows delicately pencilled ; the hair rich black, glossy, anil waving in innumerable ripples. Her cheeks were dimpled, ami her lips were curved into a faint smile as she sat with a demure face and watched Ashby. It may have been a certain mesmerism in her gaze, or it may only liave been that Ashby had at last grown weary of his own thoughts, for suddenly'- he looked up, and caught her eyes iixed thus on him. For a moment an expres.^ior of astonishment filled his face ; then the smile of the lady deepened, and her eyes fell. At this Ashby jumped from his seat. * By heavens !' he exclaimed. * Dolores ! Oh, Dolores !' He uttered these words with a strange intonation, yet then mel < I A CASTLE /X SPA/X. VERY LOVKl.Y ul prepared to liuriicd evt'iits e prospect of a :t of a hostilr il for reflection, ofound that li..> le herself com- of Ashby, jiaw leisure, if sin- iled as to batllM « in the latest lat marvel lolls and to conceal, > Asliby, l)ut ,'il 18 could watch cu pants, ed his head or ler, nor did he veiled, so that unaltered, and ustment of hov hands wliicli plump, and le admiration that was now est of mortals. delicacy ; the long lashes: ck, glossy, and dimpled, aini ath a demure in mesmerism y had at last )oked up, anil an expressioi! of the lady ed from liis (lores !' on, yet there js joy in his eyes and in the tone of his voice, tocjcther with the wilder that had been at fust displayed. As he spoke he seized ||r hand in both of his, and, holding it fast, seated himself in the |ice immediately opposite. After a moment Dolores drew aw;iy hand with a light laugh. Ah, gcfior,' said she, 'you do not seem very quick at recognis- your old acquaintances.' iie spoke with the jiurest ("astillan accent, and the rich and Miellow tones of her voice were inexpressibly sweet. ' I— 1— had no idea— no idea that you were anywhere near. Tpu were the last — the very last person that I couUl have eilpected to see. How could 1 expect to see you here, Dolores I I'thought that you were still at Vahnicia. Are you alone /' W Yes— just now — from here to IJiu-gos, I am on my w\'iy to TWt my aunt at Panq)eluna. She is ill. jNlamnia could not csome with me, for she is ill too. So I have to travel alone. The good Tilila came with me to Madrid, but had to return to mannna. There waa no time to seek auother companion. Besides, it is Ollly from here to IJui'gos.' ;^0h, Doloi-es, little Dolores !' cried Ashby, Miow delightful it is fsee you again ! What a lucky chance !' 'But it was not altogether chance,' said Dolores. :^ How r »|* Why, I saw you.' J' ' Saw me V ,*Yes; I was watching you. You sec, I was in the station titing for the train, and saw you come in. I then watched you the time till you entered this carriage, and then I came here t|o. Now, sir !' |Sayiug this, Dolores tossed her pretty little head with a tri- fphant air, and smiled more bewitchingly than ever. , You see,' she continued, in the frankest and most engaging |auner, 'I was so veiled that no one could know me, and when saw you I was very glad indeed ; and I thought I would follow iu, and speak to you, and see if you had any remembrance left Ci| poor little me.' For a moment there was a shade of embarrassment on Ashby's tie, and then it passed. He took her hand and pressed it fer- „ ntly. I ' Dolores,' he said, ' dear little friend of mine, I can never for- Bt you as long as I live, and all that was tlone for me by you id yours. This sudden meeting with you is the most delightful |iing that could possibly have happened.' Dolores laughed, and again drew her hand demurely away ' But oh, Senor Ashby,' she said, * how absent you were in the sition ! — and here — not one look for the poor Dolores !' *0h, Dolores I' said Ashby, in a tone of tender apology, * how A CASTLE IS SPAIN. could I iinngiiie that it was ynu \ Yon were veiled so closil^ that lie one could recognise you. Why did you not wpiu before X 'Ah, seiior, young laciies iri Spain cannot he so bold as T Ik,, they are in Ent,danil. Even this is an indieard-of adventure- that I, a young"lady, shoidd travel alone. But it is a case (.f lit, and death, you know, and it is only from here to Burgos, wIkiv shall find friends. And then I wanted to speak to you once niun, And you, seiior — are you going to England now]' Again there came over AshV.y'a face a look of embarrasstnoiii His present journey was a delicate subject, which he could wa discuss very well with Dolores. ' Well, no/ he said, after a brief pause. ' I'm only going as f,ii as Bayonne— on business. Jiut how long it seems since 1 saw you Dolores ! It's more than a year.' 'And have I changed, aefior T she asked sweetly. 'Yes,' said Ashby, looking at her intently. Dolores returned his look with another, the intensity of wliirl; was wonderful to Ashby. He seemed to look into the depths oi her soul, and the lustrous eyes which were fastened on his aji- peared as though they strove to read his inmost heart. Hti manner, however, was light and bantering, and it was with a merry smile that she went on : 'Ah ! so I have changed 1 And ho,v, seiior— for the better I' * No, and yes,' said Ashby, drinking in her dark, deep, li(iiiiil glances. ' In the tiist place, you could not jiossibly be better oi more beautiful than you used to be ; but, in the second place, you are more womanlj'.' ' But I am not yet seventeen, seiior.' ' I know,' said Ashby, ' of course.' 'And you have not yet asked after the dear one— the mamma, who loves you so,' said Dolores, in rather an inconsequential way, ' I was thinking of you, so that all other thoughts were driven out of my head.' 'That's pretty,' said Dolores ; ' but do you not want to hear about the dear mamma V 'Of course. I shall love her and revere her till I die. Did slie not save my life % Was she not a mother to me in my sorest need And you, Dolores ' He stopped short, and seemed somewhat confused and agi- tated. * Y es,' said Dolores, in atone of indescribable tenderness ; 'yes she loved you — the dear mamma — like a mother, and has always talked about you. It is always, " Dolores, child, sing that soug that Seuor Assebi taught you ; sing that beautiful, beautiful English song of ' Sweet Home ' ; sing that sweetest, loveliest, most mournful Scottish song of ' Lo-^haber.' '' ' A CASTLE L\ SPAIX. veiled so cldsvli you not n\)v\\ 30 bold as I Ikm 1-of .•ulventiiie- it is Ji case of lit, llurgos, Avlicic , you once iuoim V enibarrassniciit ch he could n./, only going as f;ii 1 since 1 saw you tensity of \\\\h-\\ ito the depths oi ened on his ap- ost heart. Hti I it was with a 'or the better ;' rk, deep, li(|iiiil |bly be better oi cond place, yoi! — tlie mamma, sequential way, its were drivm want to hear die. Did sIk ly sorest need : hsed and ngi- :Ierness ; 'yes d has always |ing that soug ul, beautiful st, loveliest, And here, in a voice full of ex<|uisite tendernoas and ])alli<)s, Dolores sang that mournful air, ' Lochaber,' with Spanish words. 'he tender regret of her voice afl'ecteil herself ; she faltereil, and ier eyes tilled ; but the tears were instantly chased away by a lunny smile. ' And so, sen'or,' said she, ' you see that I have forgotten '.uthuig )f it — nothing.' Nor I,' said Ashby ; 'nor 1— nothing. I have forgotten not me thing.' His voice was low and tremulous. There was a strange, yearu- ■^g look in his eyes. With a suild u impulse he held out his |Eand, as though to take hers; but Dolores gently drew hers w|tway. ' And have you been in Madrid ever since V she asked, in a tone #at seemed to convey something of rein-oach. ♦ No,' said Ashby. ' You know, when J fell ill at Valencia, where you saved my life by your tender care, I was on my way to Barcelona. When I left you, I resumed my interrupted Journey. Then I went to Marseilles and Leghorn, then to Cadiz, |ud finally to iSIadrid. I've been in Madrid three months.' i * And you didn't think it worth while to write to us in all that long time I" said Dolores, with a reproachful ness in her tone which Iras now very marked. t 'Write/}' said Ashby; 'why, I wrote twice— once from Mar- iieilles, and once from Leghorn.' I * We never heard,' said Dolores sadly ; ' not once.' % * But I wrote,' said Ashby earnestly. ' Don't you believe me, iDolores V 1^ * Believe you, sefior ? What a question ! It was the fault of e post-ofhce in these times of trouble — that was all. And, nor, I am very glad to know all, for I did not know what to ink about it.' 'And am I forgiven, Dolores V Ashby asked. % Dolores replied with a sweet smile, and held out her hand, irhich the young man took and pressed tenderly, not caring to ifet it go. 'I did not know,' said he, ' there was anything against me to be rgiven ; but this is a sign that you are the same Dolores that |rou were a year ago.' ' Always,' said she, ' always the same ;' and then she withdrew ,er hand. * And now, sefior,' said she, with a perceptible effort, of one who approaclies a disagreeable subject, ' this beautiful Bgleesa — who is she ?' I Ashby's eyes fell before the fixed and profound inquiry of "^ose of Dolores, who watched him close, and lost nothing of '3 change of features. 'This lady?' said he, and hesitated. 10 .1 CASTLE IX SPALV. ' Yes,* said DoU^rcs f^i-iitly. 'She in a — a — ^Jiss \VeHtlut<»rn.' * And .«he loves you very, very, very dearly and tenderly,' saiil Dolores, in a quick, breathless voice ; 'and you are going to Ijo married to lier, and she will soon be your wife.' Ashby said nothiiifr, but sat looking strangely embarrassed. * Vou never meutioned her to us at Valencia,' continue I Dolores. ' No,' said Asliby, ' And why not /' asked Dolores, who saw his confusion, but was eager to know the truth. ' I had not seen her,' said Ashby. * You had not seen her,' rej)eate'd Dolores. ' Ah !' she licsitaltil for a moment and then went en — 'so you saw her afterwaiil. And she loves you !' These last words were spoken with indescribable tenderness and mournfulnes'^. 'And — she— loves — you,' she repeated, in a voice that had sunk almost to a whisper ; 'and she is to be your wife — the Engli,-Ji girl !' * Well,' said Ashby, making an eflfort to overcome his embarras.s- ment, ' it is— it is about time. The fact is, I— I did ask her to- to be my wife.' ' And she V 'She? "Well — she said she would, I think,' said Asliliy evasively. ' You think !' exclaimed Dolores. * ^\ i\\, you see, there's a difficulty.' 'A difficulty?' * Yes. Her guardian will not consent.' * But that is nothing,' said Dolores, in an animated tone. ' You must take her, and run .away with her.' Ashby looked at Dolores with a strange, eager, huugw gaze. ' But there's anothov objection,' said he. * Objection ? What is that V * I don't want to.' * What V asked Dolores in surprise. Ashby hesitated for a moment, and then said with an effort : * I thought before we left that I loved her ; but since I liavt seen you again— I feel — that I do not.' These words were spoken rapidly, in a low, feverish whisper, At first Dolores started as though she had been shot. Tlien slit averted her face, and held np her hands deprecatingly. ' Ah,' said she, in a sad voice, ' that is all idle, idle, idle, foolisli. foolish, foolish compliment, and nothing more. You must nut say that again, or I will never forgive you — never, never !' A CASTLE rX SPAIX. 1 1 tenderly,' .s.ni.l re going to lio nibarrasscd. ci;i,' continue 1 fusion, but w;i> !' she licsitrtliii her afterwaiil. iblo tencloriit>i ; that had sunk 'e— the Engli.-Ii ; his enibarras.>^. iti ask her tu- said Ashl IV id tone. * You eager, huugrv th an effort : it since I haw rish whisper, lot. Tiieu silt e, idle, foolisli, iTou must not never !' It this Ashby was brought back to \nA senses with a suddm whoIoHonio Hhoik, and said no more upon that point, la he now felt afraid that ho had said altogether too much. CILVrTEll IIT. ASIIRY MEETS WITH ANOTHKIl FRrKXD, ANT) HOW UK TAKIvS niM INTO HIS CONFIDKNCK. TKAT ev(Miing they arrived at Burgo.s, wiiere, on accotnit of tfinblos along the line, the train was to remain until ton o'clock on the following day Dolores informed Ashby that she was gqfog to stay with frieuvls, and refuse'' to allow him to accoTU- Ky her to the house, in spite f»f his earnest entreaties. She been in IJurgos before, she said. The house was not far from the station, and she was linn in her resolve to go alone. Aihby followed her, however, and saw her pass in safety through the streets and into a largo and venerable house not far from tho CStthedral. lie then retraced his stops, and made the best of his WW to the Fonda del Norte, where he put up for the night. JHere, after dinner, he loitered about for a time, nieditatiu'f Ofer the events of the day, and conjecturing about the morrow. Hki situation was growing somewhat complicated ; for there was B[|ltie, whom he had promised to see cat Burgos ; but on leaving tbi train he had followed Dolores, and now he had not the ftlBitest idea where the Russells had gone. They were not iit tjbe Fonda del Norte. It was also too late now to hunt them up, and too late to hope to see Katie. That must be postponed till ^ morrow. |A.shby was beginning to feel more melancholy than ever in his life before, when suddenly he was roused by a loud exclamation. * Well, by .Jove ! Halloo, old boy ! Ashby himself, by all that's wonderful !* "jA-t this Ashby looked up, and the next instant he was heartily llipngiug the hand of the new-comer. ^ ■* Elvers ! Harry llivers ! How are you, my boy ] and where in the world did you come from ]' * By Jove! do you know, old fellow,' said Harry Rivers, *I Oill this no end of a piece of good luck ? I've been bored to death at Burgos. But come along to my rooms and give an account of yourself.' The two friends then went off, and soon were comfortably mated in the rooms of Harry Rivers, with some flasks of wine and Havanas to help along the evening hours. Harry Rivers was of about the same age as Ashby, but totally dfcttferent in appearance. He was of medium height, very well knit in his frame, and very well dressed. His hair was crisp and oirliug ; his brow broad and opan ; his eyes full of light, and 18 A castij: rx spaix. lift', and volatility. Jfo li;iut with them a periietual atmosj)hiix. , joyousness and breezy cheerfulness. ' Well, old cha]),' said Harry, as they sat enjoying their ci^i! and wine, ' 1 havent feen or heard of you since you left llu celona. J low did you f'et on with your business in Jtaly / \V1; made you turn uj) in this <|Ueer way at Ihirgos I Thia isn't th sor t of place tha^ I'd expect to (ind a friend in (I expect lo niui * I'm on my way to liayonne just now,' said Ashby, 'ami stopjied here — because the train stopped.' ' Jiayonne isn't a bad place,' said IJarry ; ' I spent a week tliti once — good wine, but bad tobacco and infernal cigars. Jit re u have good cigars and bad wine. Do you know, old chap, I don dote on any of the Spanish wines — do you ? At the siinie tiiii> I drink your very good health, together with future prosj)trit and good luck in your jn-esent undertaking, whatever that may U. ' Thanks,' saiil Ashby, 'and the same to you.' 'Look here, old chap,' said Harry, 'you look a little down ii the mouth — a trifle seeily. No bad luck, I hope V * Oh no,' said Ashby, 'nothing in ])articular.' ' The fact is, you seem to have lost your liigh moral tone, aiii your former happy How of genial conversation. I dou't want t^ be a Paul Pry, my dear boy ; but if you wisli to gain sympatln and find a friend who can hear and help, why, all 1 can say is- liere you have him.* ' Well/ said Ashby, * I'm a little preoccupied, that's a fact.' * Preoccupied ? That's your name for it, is it ? Well, suj)po.t we adopt that word — what then /' Ashby knocked the ashes oil' his cigar with a reflective loci; and said : ' I rather think, ITarry, that I had better make you myfatliti confessor.' ' All right,' said Harry; 'that's what I was made for. (■ ahead, my son. Confess — out with it. Cleanse your bosom i: its perilous stuff : make a clean breast of it.' ' Well,' said Ashby, 'in the first place, I'm just now medit;i ting matrimony.' 'Matrimony !' ' Yes ; but that's not all. It's a sort of runaway match.' ' A runaway match ! By Jove ! Only think of a fellow lik; you planning a runaway match ! Now if it was me, it would bt the proper thing. But is it really to be a runaway match V A CASTLE I^' SPA/X. 13 0, but iKj 1k;iii| , I fjiL'o .'UhI wiiiiiiii In Hliort, 11,111 vho iiinkc fn'cii, tlu'ir i-oiiti(|fiir,. til tlicii- v;ir\iii uil utniosplioiv I Dying tlieir ti:^r:|, 100 yoii It'ft llii s ill Jtaly / \V|; / Tills i.su'i th id Asliby, : one of the most infernal villains that ever lived, and that he i? concocting some scheme against Katie.' ' A scheme ! how V ' Well, I'll tell you. I saw from the first that he was hostile to me. Possibly this may have been my own fault, for 1 s;nv the fellow was a beastly cad, not at all fit to be Katie's guardiau. Why, he's a tailor ! think of that — a tailor ! that's all he is. By Jove ! only i hink — a tailor ! and Kat;v?'s guardian ! Do you suppose I was going to stand any nonsense from a tailor V ' By Jove ! no — not unless you're deep in his books,' said Harry ; ' and even then, when you're away from home yuii ought to be a free man. So you rather slighted the guardiau, did you V ' Well, I told him to go to the devil ; and the fellow took offence, you know.' ' H'm — odd, too,' said Harry. ' Why should he take ofFeuce til such a simple remark V ' Don't know, I'm sure,' said Ashby ; ' but there it is, you see, However, that makes no difference. I've defied him and threatened liim.' ' Threatened ! Why V ' Why, because die infernal scoundrel is deep in some plan tc get hold of Katie's money.' ' Katie's money 1 Oh, she has money, then ?' ' Of course — about thirty or forty thousand pounds. Most oi this, I believe, is in Spanish bonds, in which Westlotorn wa- foolish enough to invest.' * Not very good just now, hey V ' Oh, they'll be good ultimatel3\ At any rate, old Eussell' bound to get hold of all this and keep it for himself, and I'l: resolved that he shall disgorge. He's got half a dozen plans. Ou; plan is to try to get her to marry his son, an infernal, red-headed cock-e3'ed cad of a fellow — a tailor, too. Another plan is f^ pi;; her ott" in some out-of-the-way place here in Spain, where no oiit will ever hear of her . Another plan is to ship her off to America : another is to keep her in seclusion in his own home, where no one will ever see her ; while another is to dispose of the Spauist bonds in such a way as to make it appear that they are a dead loss i \ A CASTLE IN SPA IX. it to-morrow oi liby related tli^ lad I came upoi ; to a biiui>liu:: it this Russell is , and that he b ,t he was hostile fault, for 1 saw Catie'a guardian, t's all he is. By I'dian ! Do you a tailor V his books,' said From home you d the guardian, the fellow took e take offence ;;; re it is, you see, n and threatened in some plan tc unds. Most 0! Westlotorn \v;v 'You seem to be very deep in Russell's plans,' said Harry. ' He jld not have told you all this hiinself. If he did; he must be ' an uncommonly confiding disposition.' ■He tell me !' said -Ashby. *Of course he didn't. I found it : out— no matter how. Oh, the fellow's a desperate swindler— ill stick at nothing. But, at any rate, he knows that I have my on hin), and he'll hardly dare to do anything against Katie's jrest so long as I am near enough to watch over her.' You and Russell must have had rather interesting conversa- is. Did you ever tell him your suspicions V ' They're not suspicions — they're facts. Tell him — of course I I, and that's one reason why ho hates me. He knows perfectly II that I see through and through him. We had a row at the tion, just before leaving Madrid, because I came down to see litie off' ; and he's now on the watch to prevent me from seeing hat again.' *Aud what do you propose to do about it ]' *0h, I've arranged it all. I'll tell you. I wrote a letter, and handed it to her just as we were leaving Madrid, asking her to mfet me at Biarritz, naming a place. I have friends there, and I ij|ill take her to their house. The English chaplain can marry \g^, We will then cut off to England. On the arrival of Russell I;||ill go to him and demand my wife's property. If he refuses tO?''ldisgorge, I will at once conmience legal proceedings against ll||l, and by way of preliminary I will give the scoundrel a horse- vM})\nug.' J T il is arrangement is all very well ; but what about the lady ? "^l she consent V jlConsent ? Why, she'll jump at the chance,' said Ashby cou- ^ntly. :.|She must be very fond of you.' :|Fond of me ? Why, she's perfectly infatuated about me.* ' |Goo(' !' said Harry. ' Well, my boy, I'm your man. You lijpt me for war and for'peace, so here am I — your second at the 1, and your groomsman at the wedding.' le, old Russell' [mself, and I'li. cen plans. Oii; [al, red-headed plan is t"- pii; where no out )fF to America : where no one )f the Spauist ivQ a dead loss. If CHAPTER IV. If *HO\V THE RAILWAY TRAIN COMES TO A SUDDEN STOP. lir|fclY early on the following morning Ashby was up and out. f walked over the town in all directions, witih a strange, furtive "chfuluess in his eyes, as though on the look-out for some one. was the object of his search ] Was it Katie, whose answer lis proposal had not yet been given ? Was it Dolores, whom iad tracked on the previous evening? Or was it his rival ! I t6 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. Lopez, with ■whom he hud yet to stand in mortal conflict] Whichever it was did not appear, tor Ashby was doomed to be unsuccessful, and to return to his inn a battled man. Barely time enough wan now left him to snatch a hasty repast, after which iio hurried to the station. The place was thronged. Passengers were arriving, and the train was filling rapidly. Ashby stood, as he had stood on the previous day, watching. Singularly enough, Lopez also, like himself, was again on the look-out, for he could see him scowliug in the distance. No words, however, passed between them, and the challenge which Lopez had threatened was not yet forth- coming. At length the patience of both was rewai'ded. A cab drove up. The broad face of Eussell was seen throuph the window. The rest of the party were inside. But, to Ashby's amazement, he saw Harry Rivers riding outside with the driver. As the cab stopped. Rivers leajjed lightly down, and opened tlie cab door himself. Then old Russell got out. Then Iliury assisted Mrs. Russell to descend. After this he assisted Katie out of the cab, and Ashby saw that she looked as fresh, aa brigjit, and as blooming as a rose, that she showed not a trace of care or anxiety, and that she was as sprightly and coquettish as ever. ' Confound the fellow !' growled Ashby to himself, as he wondered how Harry had found them out and made their ac- quaintance, envying him also his good luck. But the climax had yet to come. There was one passenger more. This one also was assisted out of the cab by Harry. To the utt^ . stupefaction of Ashby, this one was Dolores. So overwhelmed was Ashby that he stood without motion, having quite lost all that presence of mind and coolness whicli usually distinguished him. It was wonderful enough to fiud Harry hand in glove with the Russells, but to find Dolores there along with Katie was a knock-down blow. It made his situation so confused and full of complications, that he could not think oi any course of action. So he stoud, and he stared, and the party came along on their way to the train. As they approached, Katit looked at him with a bright smile, full of tender meaning, and a flush passed over her face. Dolores, on the contrary, allowed liei daik eyes to rest on him for an instant, and then looked down This troubled him, for at that moment it happened that he wa.- longing for a smile from Dolores. Still, he was glad to get tli;i: look from Katie. The fact is, the fellow was too ridiculous, fc: he actually wanted a smile from each of them. As they passed, Harry dropped behind. ' Look here, Ashby,' said he ; * where in heaven's aame havt you hid yourself all the morning ? I thought you wanted to tiuii Miss Westlotorn.' ' So I did/ said Ashby, in a rueful tone. A CASTLE AV SPA/X. yj ortal conflict I J doomed to be I. Barely tiiiio after which he iviug, and the I stood ou the )pez also, like e him scowiiu<; ?een them, and not yet forth- u'ded. IS seen throiiph But, to Ashby s vith the driver, and opened tlie Then ILnry assisted Katie fresh, aa bright, trace of care or tish as ever, himself, as he made their ac- ; one passenger by Harry. To lores. ithout motion, coolness wliicli lenough to fiud lI Dolores there de his situation Id not think oi and the party •roached, Katit meaning, and s ,ry, allowed liei n looked dowii led that he wa.- [lad to get tlia; ridiculous, fc: kn's .aame havt wanted to tiu'. ,;Wliy, confound it, man, she was close by us all the time, ithen i went out I found your dear friend, old Uus.sell.' i* llussell !' cried Ashby ; ' but how did you get ac(iuaiuted with I Acquainted !' cried Harry. 'Man alive ! By Jove ! a man oilght to know his own tailor, oughtn't he ? I didn't think of it Ult night. I thought your Eu.ssell was a ditfereut man : the ntoie i.s common enough, you know. People generally dodge tiieir tailors, but I'm not proud, and I don't owe him very much ; mild besides, this is Spain, and he can't dun me. Moreover, ho -Wie in a street row, and X helped him out with my Spanish. What the mischief does he mean by coming with his family to Burgos with no other language than English \ But, by-tho-bye, dd fellow, I must hurry : \'w going to join their jjarty ami travel in their carriage. Hope you'll enjoy yourself as well as I intend to* 1 would have excused myself, only, you know, when there's a chance of travelling with a couple of such pretty girls as those, only a madman would decline.' All this Harry poui^ed forth in a torrent of words, and before Adiby had a chance of making a remark he was otV. Ashby watched liim, and saw him enter the carriage where Katie and Ddores had gone with the llussells ; and then, drawing a long bwath, he went slowly to the train and took his seat. There was ooly one other occupant of the carriage where he sat. This was a'jpriest. He wore a broad-brimmed hat ; his eyes were con- OMled by spectacles : he had also a heavy brown beard and moustache. So engaged was he in reading his breviary, that as Afiiby entered he did not look up or take any notice of him frJIatever. • iLopez, also, had seen the whole proceeding, and had put on it 1^ own interpretation. As Ashby entered the train, so did he, aiid soon the whole of these people whose fortunes were so en- tMlgled wei^e whirling along to the North. Ashby sat buried in gloom, with his heart full of bitterness aad wrath ; of envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. Ho had hoped to see Katie. He had counted rpiite conlidently on meeting once more with Dolores. He had felt sure of Harry Rivers. But now all three had failed him ; and, what was worse, all three had drifted away from him in one another's company, and appeared to be ])erfectly inditlerent to him, and perfectly happy without him. The priest was unsociable, and ke})t reading his breviary as though his life depended upon it. Yet this made no ditlerence ta Ashby. He did not desire to make any new acipuiintances or itSSk. small-talk with strangers. He preferred to be left to liia 01|n thoughts, dismal as they were. He was in no mood for cou- % i3 A CASTLE IN SPA IX. ! 'I I'll ■I! versation, for his niiud was full of material for meditation, cou- jectuie, woiidei', and bewilderment. th^l Why, he thought, had Dolores deserted him? How had sin Ac become acquainted with Katie ? And Ilariy — to which of tlie,t1|cc a ground, too, which was rich in associations of history •lUToatlie: romance, the arena of gallant struggle and heroic effort for man' < j^ j and many an age ; a place that called up memories of Hannibi SoDO with his conquering annies ; of Rome, with her invincible legiow jnes oi of Charlemagne, with his Paladins ; of Abd-er-Rahman, with liohey si brilliant Saracens; of the steel-clad Crusaders; of the martijonel' hosts of Arragon ; of the resistless infantry of Ferdinand ai:.^eckle8 Isabella ; of tlie wars of the Spanish succession ; of the redcoaoasseni of Wellington ; through all the ages down to the time of tl :;heir h story, when Don Carlos was standing among these nortlier.,rain, ^ mountains, as Pelajo stood more than a thousand years ago, lea vaa iHii iug'on his hardy warriors to battle against all the rest of Spain, jaaaed. So the train rolled on — past the numerous stations; past tli; *1}j^ towns and villages ; past the long groves and vineyards ; paOharln A CASTLE IN SPA/X. meditation, cou- ? How had sli.fl< ;o wliich of tlicse^ de < Whiclii'vei )itterly resentful>i' orst. She niiglit ;n. But then lit' trackiug Doloie;!, LS for Dolores 19 irren, sandy tracts ; past tlie hillsides, with sheidierds, and and herds ; past th'.' roads, with long trains of mules ; past isants lolling over walls and fences — so the train passed on, fter mile and hour after hour ; but nothing of all this was id by Ashby, who sat buried in his gloomy reverie, from llv SlI self when he wa^^' Lirs. But perhaivPl^ rhood of Kati'^' eaving the hottj,^**! he was unable to rally, until at length the train came to a fcn full-stop, ut such a sudden and abrupt stop there was something very ar indeed. No station was near. The country seemed wild jeserted, and no cause was likely to stoj) the train at such a "except some serious accident. The ])rie.st started up with a movement, thrust the breviary into his pocket, and peered _ lusly out of the window, looking first backward and theu ? though this wuifojNil^d. It was this movement that first roused Ashby. He wii way : a rrav'-oo warted up and looked out. The sight that he saw was so 'orget the wholi^^^'^^fe ^^^^^ ^^ served most effectually to chase away all morbid ht eyes— a f ellov^^^<^***» ^^*^ 8^^'® ^i^ something to think about of a far more out. The misei^eriow character, e, had both tlies le suffice ? rry to add, swov: Ton and ou,untL IW^ the scenes tlia^OW^TlIE WHOLE ly on either siil-; s, and tilled Miiljj, sheep, and goat^y, ud vine-dresseisi :aut horizon ^v, oiei trutl he looked la CHAPTER T. I'AKTY COME TO GPJEF, AND AEE CARRIED AWAY CAPTIVE. 1, a strange and startling sight that met Ashby's d out of the M-indow. The train had been stopped middle of a jdaiu, where the road ran along an embank- 1 +1 +1 — -y^bout three feet high. A crowd of armed men were here, ^ .i^^xV ', ***W^ ^'^bout the locomoHve, and already forming lines alonsj t north the lo%acli:||de of the train. All looked shabby, none had any preteiS Mns, their si'ltiiong |to uniforms, and their appearance was not sufficiently snow. It w.ipic being at that particular moment engaged in couversatiou v Katie. Dolores, having descended, stood apart, and her dark glaiic eyes, as they wandered searchingly about, fell full upon Asli It was a glance full of that same deep, earnest meaning wliicli had noticed in the morning ; and so she stood looking at him, far away to speak, while Ashby looked at her also. Aftt time Harry's roving eyes rested upon his friend, and with ;i la he drew Katie's attention to him. At this Katie looked, smiled brightly, and nodded her pretty little head half-a-di times. To Ashby this seemed like mockery. Katie, he s could very well bear this se])aration, which was so painful toL self, and could laugh and be happy with others, and c perhaps, jest about his own melancholy face. So Ashby Ijc sulkily, and turned away his head. It was i-ather a novelty — this sort of thing. Brigands iu e age had stopped travellers, l)ut then they had always bee: coaches or carriages, on horseback or on foot. Never before they tried to stop a railway train. And yet in the progre- civilization the world had to come to this. The manners of ; easily accommodate themselves to the inventions of niau. highway robbery can be done as easily on a railroad as carriage road. Nevertheless, these particular men who sti this particular train were not brigands : on the contrary. were soldiers, forming part of the army of one who called hi: King of Spain — in short, Carlists. The passengers were now ordered to come forward for exat tion, one by one. Here, on a little knoll, on one side of tlie motive, stood the leader of the band. He was a stout, tlii man, with dark hair and bushy beard. Around him were a or so of armed men. The rest of the band stood guartlin. in th. otl tio cnu to fro: cop bra cao Cai thei 1 tarn itd trin this had ( ■ said *] 'I palk Tl thei Ot caah Het and] and 1 quite who waicl ticnh It purse and t *S( exam *M Thi *Pj whicl hiam Wi A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 21 Kesiotai; eliiiul. ing !' the doors, and tl VH. Of these tlio le remained on t: move in any din e the whole ciov a group alJLjditi. [•ry iiivers, slep]ii On reach in i;f t descend. Tliis -f them down boi , One by one tlic passengers came forward. Each one was ordered to hand over all the money, jewellery, watches, or r valiiahles which he ])ossessed. This was to be a coutribu- to his Itoyal JMajesty King Charles, Avho was in sore ueeil of contributions from all his loving and loyal subjects, iu order rry on the war against the rebels who were resisting him. nst such a command as this there couM be no ])rotest, and it no appeal. No one oU'eretl to do either. Ciold, silver, ler, dirty ])ai)er-money, watches, rings, brooches, pins, elets, trinkets of male and female use, were thrown j)romis- sly (lowu into a large basket which stood at the feet of the Cili|ist chief, who loftily disdained searching any one, assuring A.shby gnashed tll#i that he trusted to their honour as Si)aniards. whom, it is peril: ©len came the turn of the Russell party. First the Pater- familias disgorged. It was a well- til led wallet, and Russell flung it down without a word. His watch followed. Then came some trinkets from the ladies ; then Harry's purse and watch. After this they were about to move away to where the other passengers had gone, but the L'arlist chief stopped them. *By the command of his Most Gracious Majesty King Charles,' said he, ' you are to be detained.' * May I enquire for what cause V asked Hurry. * jBecause you are foreiguei\s.' said the Carlist chief. ivn. Nor did l: [own Mrs. Eus^ L conversation v . her dark glanc 1 full upon Asli ; meaning wliiLJi looking at him, her also. Afte d, and with ;i la Katie looked.. i head half-a-d' f. Katie, he > s so painful toL others, and c So Ashby Lo rry translated this to Russell, whoso face assumed a sickly •. To him this was terrible. e Carlist chief then directed them where to go, and two of th* band led them to the spot. Other Spaniards now followed, and deposited their superfluous cai^ in peace, without being detained. Then came the priest. H» threw down a very lean wallet. No notice was taken of him, aii4he followed the others. These were all gathered in a group, Brigands iue aodf though conversation had not been prohibited, they were all ad always bee. quiilie silent, as was perhaps natural. Among them was Lopez, Never before "^^ in the ])rogre- fie manners of itious of niai]. I railroad as men. who sh' the contrary, who called lii: I'ward forexat )ne side of 3 a stout id him wer stood guardiii.. who had come theie among the first. He stood there silent, watchful and attentive. He regarded the Russell party iu par- ticalar, and marked their arrest. It was now ^.shby's turn. He came up and threw down his purse and watch. The Carlist chief scrutinized him carefully, and then sai'l : * Senor, you, being a foreigner, are to be detained for a future examination.' *May I join the other foreigners V asked Ashby. The Carlist chief shook his head, f tiie *Pardon me, senor, but his Majesty has issued strict orders, , thi which must be obeyed. Each foreigner must be examined by .i-e a "^?1^- I'li^ regulations are very stringent.' If'ith this he directed one of his men to lead the prisoner 22 A CASTLE IN SPALV. away ; and Asliljy, who for a niomeiit had hoped that he wouli be able to join the llussell i^ity, now, to his <]freat chagrin, fuiiin himself led away to another place too distant to allow of any rom munication with his friends. The mere fact of this arrest was not so bad to Asliby, since th. others were in the same case i»recisely ; but in this contiiuiei. separation from them he found material for fresh suspicion aiu renewed jealousy. Katie seemeil to him to be altogether toi bi-ight, and lively, .and joyous. lie could see that she was lau!:r]i ing and talking with Harry quite merrily. This separation which brought sorrow to him, evidently brought joy to hor Was she, then, after all, a mere shallow flirt ? Had all her lev. been feigned ] ^Vas it possible that she could so soon for<,'et AVith these thoughts, and others like them, this idiotic yuiul persisted in tormenting himself. At length the examination was ended, and at its close tli Carlist chief improved the occasion by addressing a few word to the Spaniards. He reminded them that Don Carlos was thti. I'ightful King ; that this contribution w.is no more than hisdiu' that they, one and all, ought to cherish a lively alTection for lii sacred person ; that they ought to continue this good work wliic! they had begun by sending more ; and that the King would l graciously pleased to accept whatever they might contribute. I his own person the gallant chieftain thanked them, and also i: the name of his Majesty, for their generous contributiou- Finally, he informed them that his Majesty, in his bouudle^ pity and compassion, had graciously permitted them to resiuii their journey. The only exception to this permission was tlia of a few foreigners, who were detained, lest there might be spiv among them. Against gentry of this sort, his Majesty's Goveni' nient had to be particularly on their guard. The country wa swarming with them. They generally pretended to be new corres])ondeuts, but in reality they were paid agents of tli: enemy. If any such should be caught, they would be shown i; mercy. With this address he dismissed the Spanish portion of tli- I")assengers, who hastily re-entered the train. The Engli>! prisoners were allowed to retain their luggage. Accompanieil 1 some Carlists, they chose out what they thought needful, au this was set aside. Eussell took nearly all of his. Meanwlii!: others of the baud went through the train and helped tliemselvt to whatever seemed useful. Among the things thus selected i useful were the mail-bags, which, like the foreigners, were take: away for further examination. After this the obstructions were removed from the road, tli: engine started, the tiaiu went on its way, and the prisoners sa'; it no more. < ^ A CASTLE rX SPA/X. 23 I tli.it lie woiil( it chagrin, fount How of auy com A.shby, since tlu I this coutiimt'i ih suspicion ail' 3 altogether toi t she was lau,L;]i riiis separation ght joy to her lad all her lev. so soon f01'<,'l!t is idiotic yuiitl at its close tli ng a few word Carlos was tlai. re than his duo ilFection for hi (ood work wliic; 1 King would li I contribute. I lem, and also i: } contributiou.- his boun(Ile> hem to resuiii ission was tlia might be spit Jesty's Govcrii' he country wa ed to be nev agents of tli- d be shown ii portion of tli- The Eii'di>!. ccompaniecl Ij; t needful, an! s. Meanwliil; 3ed themselve lus selected ;; 3rs, were take: the road, tli: prisoners sa'; cnAPTi:i: vi. PJIOW HARRY AND KATIK MANAGE TO P:NJ0Y THEMSELVES '* IN THEIR CAPTIVE STATE, [E train moved ofT; and as the pulling and panting of the Igine, the rumble of the whet'ls, ami the shriek of the whistle fed away in the distance, the captive passengers felt desolate ^deed, for it seemed as though lupe itself had been taken from lem. The Carlist chief then spent some time in examining the cou- llibutions of the loyal subjects of King Charles. These ap- jpjared to give '>im much satisfaction, and, after udc insj)ectiou, Here gathered up and deposited in a stout oaken chest. lie now turned his attention to the ])iisoners, and briefly examined them as to their nationality, residence, etc. Harry acted as general interpreter, so that tliere was no difficulty in coming to a full understanding. The chief informed them that they would have to be conveyed to another place for fuller ex- MDination. He deplored the necessity of this, and advised them to be patient, telling them that they should be put to as little Rouble as possible, and that all would no doubt turn out well Hu the end. This he said first to the Kussell party and after- .Jard to Ashby. The liussell jiarty had nothing to say, excej)t old l^ussell himself, who said, perhaps, more than was prudent under Itich delicate circumstances. He chafed and fumed, all in Engli»?h, ||id nuittered something about British ironclads and writing to Ipe Times. He also made some vague threats about the wrath m England, and made the statement that Britons uevtr would -J|b slaves. But this was in English, and Harry did not think it forth while, on the whole, to translate it to the Carlist chief. Tor did Harry feel ver}' much inclined to say anything on his m behalf. There was, indeed, nothing to be saiil ; and, besides, happened to bo enjoying himself very much with the young Indies. ;f The Cax'list chief made the same statement to Ashby, who once iftore tried to effect a communication with his friends. * Will you allow me now, Sefior Capitan,' he said, ' to join the other foreign prisoners ? They are my fellow-countrymen, and, Ib fact, my intimate friends.' * Certainly, sefior,' said the Carlist ciiief graciously. ' For my own part I have no objection— that is, for the present. But I ttiust_first see what they have to say about it.' |; He did so. ^^ Ashby would have gained his wish if it had not been for tussell. When the Carlist chief informed them that the other Snglishmau wished to join them, Eussell made Harry translate 1 24 A CASTLE LV SPAIX. this to him. The moment thtit he umlerstood the request, he burat forth into ii passionuto tirade afijainst Ashby ; and all the rage and fury tli;tt mi,L,dit bt (hie to this misadventure were now l)0urcd forth upon Ashby'u head. ' The infernal puppy !' he cried. ' ITe join us ! Never ! I'd rather turn ( 'arlist myself, or brigand. If he is forced upon ua, I will keep my wife and my ward a])art and aloof from him. Oh, curse it all! if I could only s[)eak Spanish ! But, ^Ir. Rivera, I insist upon your telling this Spanish cajitain that we will not liave it,.' An • J on. Harry found it useless to argue with him, and so lie told the C'arlist chief that llussell objected. The Carlist chief then returueil and told Ashby, to whom this was another cruel blow. ' It will make no ditFerence,' said the Carlist cliief, who saw his dejection, 'as you will all be taken to the same jjlace.' Two mules were now driven up, harnessed to a curious vehicle that might have token Noah and family to the ark. Into this the Russell i»arty entered, namely, Mr. Russell, IVIrs. Russell, Katie, Dolores, and Harry. In addition to these there was the driver. Armed men followed on foot. Another similar vehicle drove up to take the luggage, and into this Ashby was told to go. Some time was occupied iu loading this, so that when Ashby started the others were already far ahead. The Russell party were conveyed very slowly. At first their route lay along a plain, and then when this M'as traversed they began to ascend among the mountains. The pace had all along been slow enough, but now it became a crawl. The party were variously occupied. Russell was grumbling and growling ; Mrs. Russell was sighing and whining ; Dolores was silent and thought- ful ; Harry, however, maintained his usual tiow of spirits, and found in Katie a congenial soul. These two had been devoting themselves to one another during the whole journey, and by this time they felt quite like old friends. Each had a lively disposi- tion, too buoyant to remain depressed, and each was glad to take any opportrnity of rallying from the strokes of adverse fortune. Thus each was able to assist the other bravely iu the uoble effort to rise superior to circumstances. ' This is a bore,' said Harry, ' a beastly bore ! I know what I .should like to do — 1 should walk, if it were not that I very much prefer being with you.' ' But I should like to walk too,' said Katie. * Do you think they will let us, Mr. Rivers ? It would be too lovely !' * Will you, really V said Harry, in a joyous voice. ' Oh, they'll let us fast enough. I'll ask.' So Harry asked, and permission was granted readily enough, for the mules could then go on faster, and there was no danger these fting h Jong at 'Oh, VI ' It's In ' And onvsf, I liL'htn't A CASTLE LY SPA/X. a$ these two escaping from twenty anucJ men. Accordinyly, [any got out and assLsted Katie in the u.sual way, namely, by itiu'' iier down. Tliey then fell behind the waggon, walking Jong at a slow pace, having this advantage, that, iilthongh they I'd Mfcw not making any greater i)rogrea.s than before, they were left jort' to themselves, and were under less restraint. ' Do you like this '.' asked Harry, as they trudged along. 'Oil, very much indeed.' ' It's better than tlie waggon, isn't it ?' * I'm so an'falhj tired of the waggon !' said Katie. 'And we can talk without being overheard,' said Ilarry. * Of Muso, I don't mean to say that we say anything that everybody liglitu't hear ; but then, you know. Miss Westlotovn, one can ilk nmch more freely when one isn't surrounded by a coldly ritical audience.' At this Katie laughed, and stole a shy, sidelong glai ce at him, though she suspected some deeper meaning in his \vords than iljat which appeared on the surface. *I)o '\.a feel very much frightened at this adventure?' cou- the linuei ilarry. ' ^'i^ frightened ?' said Katie. ' Not at all. What an idea !' • IJcally not V ' No, really. Do you know, I'm rather fond of adventures.* ' But isn't this a little too serious I' ' Why, Mr. Rivers, I'm sure I think it's delightful. These men ^re Carlists, and all Carlists are gentlemen. 1 dote on Carlists — do, really !' ' Well, so do I — if you do,* said Harry laughingly ; ' only you mst allow that it isn't a very gentlemanly thing to stop us on ^ur journey, relieve us of our jiurses, and carry us off to parts uiknown in a nude-cart.' ' Oh, you shouldn't look at it in that light. That's too awfully prosaic. Now I'm romantic, and I'm positively grateful to them for providing me with such a delightful little adventure.' 'Do you love adventures V ' Love them V replied Katie, with the drollest look in the world. [Why, I positively dote on them !' Her smile was so sweet, and her face so bewitching, that Ilarry ^bought he never saw any face so lovely. ' You see,' continued Katie, * I mope and mope, and keep Hoping so ! and things grow so tiresonie, that I fairly ache for im adventure.' ' Well, but suppose that you were in an awful hurry to meet ^onie one, and were stopped in this fashion V At this Katie's whole expression changed. She looked at Harry iith a face full of sympathy, behind which there was visible the lost intense curiosity. 26 A CAST/J: AV "JAI/.V. ' Oh, "Slv. Rivers,' Miiid slio, * I'm ho sorry ! Ami are you in ; awful limi'v t(t iiicdt some one V ' Awful r suiil II any. ' Oil, Mr. Iiivci.s, I'm so sorry !' said Katie agaiu. ' And wo: you tell me nil abt)ut it, |)lea.si' /' Now Harry Man by nature inclined to make the world 1 contidiint ; and how much more was he ready to conlide in su a one a.s Katie, who invited his eonlidenee with .such tender sy: l>athy ! J>csidc.s, he already felt, as him bi'en said, ([uite like old ac(|uaintance, Ahhl)y's relations to Ivatie made her set nearer to him. She was his friend's betrotheil. And then, t' lie had been eliattin;,' with her all day lon^i,'. ' Vou see,' said he, ' I'm on the look-ou< for a friend.* At this Katie smiletl with indescribable comicality. ' Won't I do V she asked. Harry stared at her for a moment, and then burst into a lau'^: in which Katie joined merrily. ' I dare say now, Mr. liivers,' said she, ' you think I'm t fMrrht an acfjuaintance to be trusted ; but, you know, in Spa: when one meets with a fellow-countryman who can speak Ii^njfliv why, you know, one can't help feeling (juite like an old friend ai that sort of thing ; and, mind you, when one has been tak ])risoner by the Carlists, one feels nuich more so, you kiio; But all the same, I liope you'll excuse me ; I didn't mean ai. harm.' At this Harry laughed still moi-e. ' You're not mail C .said Katie, with a droll assumption <. anxiety. ' Will you really be my friend V asked Harry. *0f course. Didn't I say as much f said Katie. * Then let's shake hands over it,' said Harry, ' and swear x eternal friendship.' Saying this, he held out his hand, and Katie held out her- Harry ])ressed it warmly and tenderly. ' Well,' said Harry, after a pause, ' I'll tell you all about it, f^ I want your— your sympathy, you know, and your advice, yi know, and all that sort of thing, you know.' * Well, do you know, Mr. Elvers,' said Katie, ' that's my stron. point. I always have at my disposal any amouiit of sympathv and as for atlvice, wdiy, I could begin and go on advising, ;iii, advising, and advising, from now till — well, not to be too tx travagant, I'll merely say till doomsday. So now, 2V07i't yu. begin V 1 J CASTLE IX SPA/X. i'o you m ; ' Ami wo; 1 world 1 I (ido in sii s X'nder sy fl uitu liki! 9 -' her set .Ml d then, t' > I I to a laii',; uk I'm t V, in Spai ak En;,'!!-: friend a: been tak you kn(j; ; mean ai. iniption swear a: out Ii er- )out it, I idviee, yc ray stroii; iympatliy dsiuf,', aii je too f.\ tvoii't vc ciiAPTKu vri. WJirCir HARRY BECOMES rONFIDENTIAL, AND TELLH A VERV UEMAKKADLE SToIlV. ARRY paused a little loncfer, aiius ! hoM- ou !' Leghorn, 3se.. Til! fearfull\-. ^s roused ished out over the 1 a wild, rhis was 3h every- ing could and Jield lie figure Partly : it of pity, and partly for the sake of having something to do, I helped her up to her feet, held her up in that position, and tuhl sr to cli'i^ to the shrouds, and stay by me as loug as she possi- ily could. At length, in the midst of a flash of lightning, I iappeued to notice that the jolly-boat was hanging from the favits astern. No one was near : every one was running about fcrward. I determined to make an ett'ort for life. The woman fvas almost senseless, so I half carried, half dragged her to the J)oat and got her in. Then I ])assed a line around the seat of Ihe boat and secured her to it ; after which I began to lower the boat down. This was a deuced hrrd job, but 1 managed it at 1st, Then I jumped in and cut the line that lield us, and away ire went in the boat, which was sent spinning along like a feather jver the boiling sea. I don't know how we kept afloat, but we lid. The woman never spoke one word. So we passed a fearful light, and at length morning came. Then the woman began to pry bitterly. I soothed her as well as I could. We were in a terrible situation. The storm had nearly gone down, but we were [threatened with something worse, for we had neither water nor [provisions. I gave my companion some brandy, which revived [her. AVe were far away out of sight of hind, and no sails [were visible anywhere. I had a couple of oars, and with these [I pulled toward the north. My companion soon regainetl her Icomposure and her strength, and we were able to discuss our f)rospects. She told me Ii:> name and destination. She was ou ler way to Rome to join her father, in company with an aged relative aud her maid. Her father had been ill, and had been I living hi Italy for his health. She was anxious about him, but still more troubled about her relative, who had been left on board the steamer. 'Miss Talbot was very beautiful, and the most unselfish person I ever saw. She was perpetually trying to lighten my labour. She insisted on taking an oar and trying to row. She bore up most uncomplainingly against our hardships. In fact, she a(?ted like a regular brick. Of course, before I had talked with her half an hour I was head over heels in hjve with her.' ' But it's awfully nice to have your live saved, and be alone together in a boat like that,' said Katie. She spoke in an injured tone, as though a shii)wreck was something highly desirable, which a harsh fate had cruelly kept away from her. * Well/ continued Harry, ' we starved, and starved, and choked with thirst, for two or three days ; but she never uttered one siugle murmur.' ' I should think not,' said Katie. * What had she to complain of] What more could she want I Why, it was utterly lovely ! I'm sure I shouldn't care to eat one single bit if I were in such a 30 A CASTLE IN SPALX. Uil tsituutioii. I could not be Imugiy at such times— I never an Hungry, indeed !' Tlie idea was too absurd, so Katie dismissed it with scorn. ' I could see,' continued Harry, ' that she was sulfering. Ih face grew paler and paler. She was evidently growing weaker She looked at me piteously ' ' Oh, you will be so prosaic !' interrupted Katie. ' Can't yo sec that it wasn't hunger at all ] It's the old, old story : ' " Then her cli.cck was pale, and thinner Than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions ■\Vith a mute observance hung." * And I said,' continued Katie— ' "And I said, my dearest Pard'ner, Speak, and speak the truth to me ; Trust me, Pard'ner ; all the current Of my being turns to thee." * The fact is,' she added abruptly, * I believe you're making u] nearly the whole of this !' * ]\iaking it up !' cried Harry. « Me ! Why ]' 'Why, because such delightful situations never do occur in real life. It's only in fiction.' * No, really now — it was really so,' said Harry. * Why should I make this up ? Eeally, on my honour ' ' Well, you're colouring the facts, at least,' said Katie. * If ii\> all true, I think it's hard on poor people like me, that never can lind any pleasant excitement to break the monotony of life. But never mind — please go on.' * Well,' continued Harry, ' we drifted on for several days. Wo saw vessels, but they were too far away to see us. At last w" came in sight of land, and there we were picked up by a (;< if that took us to Leghorn. I then went on with Miss Talbr» r Eome. I learned that we were the only ones that had "b .^ Vi saved out of the ill-fated steamer. Miss Talbot's father, wlm. as I said, was an invalid, had heard the news, and, thinkins,' his daughter lost, sank under the blow, On our arrival at Rome he was dead. It was a mournful end to our journey. * He was buried in I'ome. Miss Talbot returned to England with an English family, with whom her father Lad been ac- (piainted. I did not intrude on her just then, but paid her a visit afterward. At that time we came to an understand in cf, and then I went back to Barcelona. And now I come to the real point of my story — the thing that I was going to tell you.' ' Oh, I'm so very much obliged,' said Katie, ' for what you've told me thus far !' A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 31 Xow, Miss Talbot, you must know, has very few relatives. j'd the last of an ancient family, and one or two uncles and its are all thao are left besides herself. Her life has been by L'ans gay, ox* even cheerful, and perhaps that was one reason ly she was willing to acce])t me.' [llow delightful it is,' said Katie, * to see such perfect modesty ! f. Elvers, you are almost too difHdent to live !' loll, but really, I mean tliat a girl like Miss Talbot, with wealth, and ancient family, and social standing, and all Lt, might have the i)ick of all the best fellows in the country.' J That stands to reason ; and so you imply that when such a ly chose you, you ' [All, now, Miss Westlotorn, I didn't,' said Harry. 'I'm not infernally conceited as all that, you know.' [But hadn't she promised in the boat i' Uu uie boat ! "Well, yes ' 'Of course : then why did she have to choose yoii again 1' foil, well — in the boat it was an informal sort of thing. But irtr mind. She promised to marry me, and I went back to rceloiia. We then corresponded for about a year.' ' How awfullj^ dreary !' siglied Katie. 'I do so detest letter- If I had to write letters, I w^ould break the engage- itiiig ! Well, it's a bother, of course,' said Harry ; ' but, after all, a ter is tlie only substitute one can have for the absent one.' ' And how long is it since you last saw her ?' 'A year.' A year ! Why, you must have utterly forgotten what she kks like. Should you be able to recognise her if you were to Wt her in a crowd f ' Oh yes,' said Harry, with a laugh. * Now you must know iit when I was engaged I expected to go to England in about be mouths' time to get married. Business, however, detained I hoped to go again a few months later. But the fact is, I nid it impossible ; and so on for a whole year I was detained, til at last I had to write, imploring her to come out to me and [tnarried in Barcelona.' Well, for my part, I never would marry a man unless he camo me,' said Katie. Then I'm glad,' said Harry, ' that you are not Miss Talbot. |e was not so cruel as that ; for though at first she refused, she last consented and promised to come. This, however, was Jy after long begging on my part, au;1 a full explanation of the "iculties of my position. So she consented, and finally meu- led a certain day on which she would leave ; and that was )ut a fortnight ago. 'Xow, you know, all the time I felt awfully about her having 32 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. to come on alone, until at length, as ill-luck would have it, it liappened that I was able to steal a fuw days from my busiut ►So I determined, after all, to go on for her. Fool that I wa> didn't telegi'aph ! There was no time to write, of course. 1 see, I was such an idiot that I only thought of giving \w\ pleasant surprise. This filled my mind and occupied all i. thoughts, and all the way on I was chuckling to myself over i. scheme ; and I kept fancying how delighted she would be finding that, after all, she would not have to make the jouri. alone, I was so full of this that I '^ouldn't think of anything d And now I should like to ask you calmly, Miss Westlotorn, c simple question : Did you ever hear in all your life of sucli perfect and unmitigated chuckle-head V ' Never !' said Katie in a demure tone. * Well,' continued Harry rueful l}-, ' luck was against me. I n with several delays of a tedious kind, and lost in all about t" days. At last I got to my destination, and then — then — in c word, there came a thunder-clap. What do you think V ' What V ' She was gone !' ' Gone V * Yes. She had gone the day [before ray arrival. She li; written again, and had telegraplied. She had then set o; expecting me to receive her with all a lover's eagerness at E;- celona, at the hotel which I had mentioned to her in my L: letter, and hoping also that I might possibly tura up at a: station after passing the Pyrenees. What do you think of tlia: Wasn't that a blow ] And was it my fault V * Certainly not,' said Katie in a soothing voice. ' Not yo: fault, only your misfortune. But what did her friends say V ' Her friends 1 Oh, they were awfully indignant, of course, lv.l I couldn't wait to explain it all to them. The moment I fouLi out how it was, I turned on my heel and hurried back to B;i:| celona. I travelled night and day. I got there without ai;^ interruption, and rushed to the hotel, where, according to n, direction, she was to have gone.' * AVell,' asked Katie, as Harry paused, * was she there V ' No,' said Harry ; * but, worst of all, she had been there ! Yei! she had been there. She had made the journey ; she had reaclit Barcelona ; and I — I, for whom she had come, I was not there t meet her. AVell, when I did get back she was gone.' ' Gone ] — gone where V ' Why, where else could she have gone but liome again V 'True. Being a girl of spirit, she never could stand suc:| treatment as that. But did she leave no message for you T 'Not a word, either in writing or in any other way. I askei the hotel people about her, but they knew nothing in particular A CASTLE LV SPALV. 33 she had not told au} Liiing about herself. She had come, and, fter two or three days, had goue. !She had goue ouly the day fore I got back.' ' Aud you, of course, must have started after lier all the way jack to England, aud that's the reasou why you are here ' ' Yes/ said Harry : ' the only hope I had was to overtake the braiu tliat preceded me. It was not impossible that it might be lelayed, aud that my train should come up wiih hers. That was my ouly hope, but of course all this is now up.' * Oh, well,' said Katie, in a consoling tone, ' you'll see lier again Ibefore long, and you can explain it all ; and when she finds out [that it all arose from an excess of zeal, she will see that your fault [was one on the right side, and she will love you all the better. [Aud so you will both have many and many a laugh over this [queer misadventure; and it will be something that will give I flavour and spice to all your future life. Why, I'd give anything [to have just such an adventure — I would, really. I wish 1 was in Miss Talbot's place. I quite envy her — I do, really ; that is/ she added, with a little confusion, ' her adventure, you know.' * You have such a nice way of putting things,' said Harry, ' that I wish I could always have you to go to f(n- sympathy.' * Sympathy ?' said Katie. ' Oh, ym\ know, that's quite nr forte.' Harry looked iuto her clear, sunny eyes as they were raised to his, full of brightness, and ai'chness, and joyousness. ' And won't you let me call you " Katie," ' said he, ' just while we're travelling togetlier ? I feel so awfully well acquainted with you, you know ; and I've told you all about my affairs, you know, just as if you were my oldest friend.' ' I should like it above all things,' said Katie. ' I hate to be called Miss Westlotorn by my friends. It's too formal.' 'And you must call me " Harry," ' said this volatile young man. • You will, now, won't you V he added in a coaxing tone. Katie did not prove obdm\ate. 'Well — Harry,' she said with a bewitching smile. ' I think you're awfully nice,' said Harry. ' Well, I'm sure I think you're a very nice boy,' said Katie in a childish way. For some time longer the party continued their journey. Harry and Katie found walking so much ]ileasanter than -.iding in the rude cart that they refused to get into the vehicle again, although urged to do so very strongly both by Mr. and Mrs. Russell. For his part, Ilai'ry declared that he infinitely preferred walking ; and Katie, on being appealed to, said that the jolts of the wagon made her head ache. So these two continued their walk. Gradually it grew darker, aud the twilight deepened with the rapidity common in southern latitudes. Then, fearing lest Katie 3 34 A CASTLE IN SPAIN, ^ 1,1 I Iff! W\ might be fatigued, Harry made her take his arm. After this, being still full of anxious fears lost so fair aud fragile a being might sink under the wearisome tramp, he took her little hand a,s it lay on his arm, and held it in his for all the rest of the way. And what Ashby would have said or thought if he had seen that is more than I can tell, I'm sure. The moon was shining, and its brilliancy was wonderful. Now they entered among the mountains. Far on high ascended the lofty wooded slopes on one side, while on the other they descended into a valley. Beyond this there were other heights, while in the valley between there was a beautiful winding river. A turn iu the road brought them at length to a place where the valley widened, and far away, shining like silver iu the moonbeams, flowed the river, ' "With many a winding tlirough the vale' All around rose an amphitheatre of hills, some wooded, some precii)itous, and behind these rose the summits of loftier mouu- tains far into the sky. Here, full before them, there arose a grand and stately castle. Perched upon the crest of a spur where it projected from the flank of a mountain, it stood before the new- comers the centre of the whole scene, the crown aud glory of it all. In the garish sunlight there might have been perceptible many and many a mark wrought by the destructive hand of time, for ages had passed since it tirst reared its lordly form on high. Its architecture sjjoke of hoar antiquity, of a time long past, when the Moor still fought around these scenes, and rushed to the fight to the war-cry of * Allah Akbar !' But now, bathed iu the mellow moonlight, this ancient castle showed all its grand proportions, with not a trace of decay or desolation ; and its massive walls arose iu solemu majesty ; its battlements frowned in heavy shadows overhead ; its lofty towers and turrets seemed still able to defy the assaults of time for ages yet to come. For some time past the country had been growing steadily wilder and less peopled, until here there seemed a virtual solitude. On reaching the spot the party found a massive gateway with a ponderous portal. Beyond this opened the courtyard, and in the distance rose the keep. Here lights shone, and -the noise of revelry came to their ears. And now the prisoners entered, and were taken in charge by others, and Ashby, who arrived about an hour afterward, was also taken to his quarters. tol THE S| i train, and a loll ivt'd of fent, at whiclil )u beyJ ed ; bul le elfect had oc Itw it mad le end and f A CASTLE IN SPAIN, 35 CPI AFTER VIII. HSo you see we can no longer remain in so public a place as this high-road. We must seek some secuu place, at least, for the present. You don't seem able to go much farther. This moonlight night is just the time for flight, ]»ut you need rest now, and unless you get that first you won't ha able to escape at all. And so— what do you say to my hunting up a hiding-place for the night V As the priest began to speak, the lady had e a violent eflbrt to recover herself, and had succeeded well . .^vigh to listiii attentively, only showing by an occasional sigh or sob that her distress liatl not yet passed away altogether. At the priest's question she paused thoughtfully for a short time, and then said : ' My being with you will make a great dillerence to you V * Oh ye.s,' saitl the priest. *It will perhaps endanger your safety/ continued the lady anxiously. ' Oh, th;»t is nothing,' said the priest ; * that is my normal state. I am always in danger.' ' Still, I should be sorry to add to your danger,' she said liesitatingly ; ' and if— if ' ' Well,' said the priest sharply, ' if what ?' * If I am a source of danger,' said the lady calmly, ' I should prefer going on alone, just as I was ; and I shall only ask you to tell me what is the nearest town, and to give me generally the dii'ectiou to it.' 'Oh, you will, wull youl' said the priest, in the mocking tone which he had previously used. ' Well, then, madame, 1 shall only ask you to do as I say, and ask no questions. I know the country — you don't. I have registered a vow in heaven to save you, and save you 1 will, even in spite of all your teeth. 1 swear it in the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress !' At these strange words the lady was silent for a few moments, .1 CASTLE IX SPA/X. 41 (1 tlii'ii aaiil. ill a tremulous voice : ' I'll tlo anytliiiig tlial you ri-li iiK' to tlo.' ' L'lutlionnore, my lioaior,' contiuucd the priest, Hudtlenly ssiiiiiiii^' ;uul immeiliatoly droppiiiLf the wliiiio of a rustic ivaclier, 'mariv this — i duii't miml sayiii^,' a few words to ease your .soni|tlL'S : you cannot luai-e my position any more ihuii^'crous |li;in it is already. I carry my life in my hand all tiie time' ' Still,' said the lady, 'you can easily take care of yourself ; I)ut ifliiit a terrible thing it would bo if you should get into trouble )n my account !' 'Well, I'll ask only one ([uestlon — what is your calling in life I' ' I have no calling. I'm a lady ' 'Spinster /' said the priest iu a mild voice. ' Ves,' said the lady gravely, and with deej) sadness. It seemed to the priest that he had unwittingly touched upou tender \miit. 'Pardon me,' said he, 'this is all I wish to get at. You are not la politician, not a political agent, not a 8j)y I' ' Certainly not.' * Nor a newspaper correspondent V 'No.' ' Not even an artist V ' No ; nothing but a simple English lady, and only anxious to jget back home.' 'Very well — very good !' said the jjriest apjjrovingly. 'And jyou shall go home, too ; but remember what 1 said, and trust iu Iiue. And now let us see what we had better do. I've been here jhefore, all through and through this country, and know it like a ibuok. Now, just over there, a little to the west, there is an old unoccupied castle, wdiich is in very good condition, considering jit's a tl usaud years old. It is just the j)lace for us. Unfortun- ately, there may be others iu it, for it is iield from time to time by the one or the other of the lighting factions ; yet even in that case I know of an odd corner or two where we can elude tjbsor- vation for the present; for it is a very — a monstrously large castle, and I happen to know the ins and outs of it pretty nvell. I can assure you a good night's rest there.' ' It is not inhabited, you say.' 'No, not as a general thing.' ' I'm sorry for that. If it were, the people would perhaps give us shelter and food, and help us on our way.' The people would perhaps give us more shelter than we care I for. But come, we ought to be off, for you need rest, and that I Boon.' The lady said nothing, but walked along with the priest. For about a quarter of a mile they followed the road, and then turned away to the left over the country. Here their pathway ' :< I : 42 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. lay over the fl.uik of the mountain, and traversed open fidi • wliich were used for pasture. The moou slione brightly, illn. rninating the ?cene, and the priest walked with the assured aiii: one who knew his w;iy thoroughly. The lawu self-reproach. If you do not come back, I shall feel as though ^oiu' blood is required at my hands.' The priest looked at her and gave his short laugh. ' I shouldn't advise you to come after me to the castle,' said he. [Your chief difficulty will be the commissariat. If I do not come )ack before twenty-four hours, you will then have to fly for your- elf. Iu that case, do not go back to the road you were on before. )o not go to the castle. Take this path and go down to tlie Jottom of the chasm, and up the other side to the top of the ridge. k.eep under trees as much as possible. Travel due south. Heaven |elp you ! God bless you ! Good-bye I' He looked at the lady. Her eyes, which were fixed on him, ^emed overflowing with feeling ; but whether of anxiety for him fear for herself did not appear. 'You seem to me to be going to death,' said she, in a low voice, !ind I aiu the canse 1' * To death !' said the priest, with his usual laugh. * Moriturus S'tlntat. Pardon ! — that's Latin. At any rate, we may as well [lake hands over it.' He held out his hand. She caught it in both of hers. j'God protect you !' she murmured, in a low voice, with quiver- Ig lips. ' I shall be in despair till you come back. I shall never Ve the courage to fly. If you do not come back, I shall die in is tower.' 48 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 'Child,' said the priest, in a sad, sweet voice, 'you are too de. spondent- I will come back — do not fear. Try and get rid of tliese gloomy thoughts. Aud uow, once more, good-bye.' He pressed her hand and departed through the gap.^ He then began his descent, while the lady stood watcliiug him with anxiouj eyes and despairing face till he had passed out of sight. CHAPTER X. HOW THE PRIEST BEARDS A LION IN HIS DEN. The priest walked down the path into the chasm. It ran aloDg a ledge, which at first was narrow, and quite concealed from vieiv by dense masses of shrubbery, which grew all down the slopii.- sides of the abyss, covering the rock with a green mantle, r.u giving it an inviting aspect of richness and verdure. In such a place no one could have suspected the existence or even the possi- bility of any pathway ; and this one must have been made witL no little labour and skill, in the ancient days, when lighting bani; had need to pass and repass. After a few paces the path became more clearly defined. 1: was very steep, yet easy enough in the descent, and went dovi; in a zigzag direction until it reached the bottom of the chasBi Here there was a brook whose babbling had been heaixl froL; | above. In winter this was a fierce torrent, but now it wj reduced to a slender and shallow stream. In its bed lay gre;r,! boulders of granite, which aiforded stepping-stones to those v.ii might wish to pass, and could be used at any time except when | the water was swollen by mountain floods. After traversing these the priest came to the other side, aDi j began to ascend a path of the same kind as that by which he 1 descended. Here he climbed about half-way up, and then paused I At this point there were two paths, one of which seemed to m up to the castle, while the other went along the side of tliH chasm. The latter he chose, and along this he went, asceiidiiid very gradually, until at last he reached the top of the ridge oij which the castle was situated. He now turned and directed his steps straight toward tlit castle, which he soon reached. At the gate stood some ameJj tatterdemalions, whom the priest recognised as having foriufij part of the gang that had stopped the train the day before, ttj these he took no heed, but walked up boldly and asked to m their captain. One of the guards went with him, aud afttj traversing the courtyard they came to the keep. Here thil Carlist chief was seen lolling on a stone bench outside, i smoking a villainous cigar. As the priest approached, he staittJl A CASTLE L\ SPA/X. 49 to liis feet with no little surprise ou liis face, logctlior with a (lark aud nieuaciiig frown, which ilid not by any means augur well for the bold adventurer. ' Who are you V he asked licrcely. The priest in return eyed the Carlist from liead to foot, and then said, in a sharp, authoritative tone : ' Your name and rank V At this singular rejoinder to his question the Carlist chief looked somevvhat amazed. ' My name ?' said he, with a sneer, ' Never mind what it is. What are you ? Who are you ? What the devil do you mean by coming here V ' Give your name and rank,' pei-sisted the ])riest, in the same tone as before, 'and beware how you trifle with one who may be your master. Who gave you authority to occupy this post V 'Master ?— authority ?' cried the Carlist chief, with an oath, which was followed by a laugh. ' Wl o is my master I I never saw him. Here, you fellows !' lie cried, to some of his gang who stood near, ' take this fellow otF — take him inside. Let me see —take him to the lower dungeons, and let him see who is master here !' At this a score of stout ruffians came forward to ol>ey the order. But the priest remained as cool as before. He simply (hew forth a paper, and looking round upon the ruffians, he said, ill a fjuiet voice : * Keep back, you fellows, and take care what you do ! I'm the Ciu'(! of Santa Cruz.' At that formidable name the whole band stopped shoi-t, mute and awe-struck ; for it Avas no common name which he had thus announced. It was a name which already had been trumpeted over the world, and in Spain had gained a baleful renown — a name which belonged to one who was known as the right arm of ])ou Carlos, one who was known as the beau ideal of the Spanish character, surpassing all others in splendid audacity aud merciless cruelty, lavish generosity and bitterest hate, magnificent daring aud narrowest fanaticism. At once chivalrous and cruel, pious and pitiless, brave aud bigoted, meek and merciless, tiie Cur6 of Santa Cruz had embodied in himself all that was brightest and darkest in the Spanish character, and his name had become a word to conjure by — a word of power like that of Caribaldi in Italy, Schamyl in Circassia, or Stonewall Jackson in America. And thus, when these ruffians heard that name, it worked upon them like a spell, and they stood still, awe-struck and mute. Even the Carlist chief was com])elled to own its power, although, perhaps, he would not have felt by any means iuclined to sub- mit to that potent spell, had he not seen its etiect upon hia followers. 10 A CASTLE AV SPA/X. I I 'I don't believe it,' he ^cfrowL-d. * You do believe it/ said the priest fiercely : ' you know it, Besides, I hold here the mandate of the King ;' and he brandished the paper, shouting at the same time, * Viva el lley !' at which all the men caught up the same cry, and shouted in unison. The priest smiled a good-natured, amiable, forgiving smile. ' After all,' said he, in a milder voice, ' it is well for you to be cautious. I approve of this rough reception ; it is soldier-like, It shows that you are true to the King. But read this. Give me something to eat and drink, and then I will tell you my errand.' With these words he handed the paper to the Carlist chief, yh took it somewhat sulkily, and read as follows : 'Headquarters, Vera, Aufjnst 23r(7, 1873. ' To all officers of the avmy^ and to all good and loyal suhjccU, greetinfj: Receive and respect our friend and lieutenant the Curt of /Santa Cruz, loho bears this, and is etujarjed in a special mis- sion in our service. * Carlos.' On reading this, the Carlist chief drew a long breath, looked around upon his followers, elevated his eyebrows, and finally turned to the priest. * What do you want V he asked, in no very courteous manner. * Nothing,' said the priest. ' Not one single thing from ynii but — breakfast. Don't be alarmed. I haven't come in here to interfere with you at all. My business is elsewhere. Do you understand me V The priest gave him a glance which was meant to convey more than the words expressed. At this the whole manner of the Carlist chief underwent a change. He at once dropped all his sourness and gloom. * Do you mean it V he asked eagerly. The priest nodded. ' Certainly.' ' Then,* cried the Carlist, ' you're right welcome, and I hope you'll not mind what's happened. We have to be cautious, you know, and suspicious.' * My dear friend, I assure you I shouldn't have troubled you at all, only I'm starving.' ' Then I swear you shall have the best breakfast in all Spain. Come in ; come in. Come, in the name of heaven, and I'll give you a breakfast that will last you for a week.' With these words, the Carlist chief led the way inside, and the priest followed. It was the lower story of the central building, or keep, and was CO of rou^ length, side th roof wi was a s rest of pouden turies t< Arou accoutn which d CASTLE IN SPAIN. 51 was constructed, iu the most mussive manner, out of vast Llocks of ruuyli-hewn stouo. The apartment was about fifty feet in length, twenty-five iu width, and twelve in height. Uu eitlier side there were openings into chambers or passage-ways. The roof was vaulted, and at the fartiier end of the apartment tluu'O was a stairway constructed of the same cyclopean atones as the rest of the edifice. All the stone-work here visible had the same ponderous character, and seemed formed to last for many cen- turies to come. Around the sides of this lower hall were suspended arms and accoutrements. There were also rude massive benches, upon which were flung ruga and blankets. Here and there were little groups, not only of men, but also of women and children. On the left side there was an enormous chimney, which was large enough for a separate chamber. In this a fire was burning, and a woman was attending to the cooking of a savoury stew. An urouiatic smell of coti'ee was ditt'usiug itself through the atmosphere ; and this was surrounded and intermingled with the stronger and ranker, though less pungent, odours of the stew aforesaid. The priest flung himself carelessly into a seat near a massive oaken table, and the Carlist chief took a seat beside him. The prest questioned the chief very closely as to his doings, and the disposition of his people through the country, while the chief surveyed the priest furtively antl cautiously. At last he said abruptly : * You were on the train yesterday.' ' I was,' replied the priest coolly. ' Why did you not tell me who you were V ' What a question to ask !' said the priest. ' Don't you under- stand 1 When /am out I don't want anyone to know or suspect. I did not choose to tell even you. Why should I \ I didn't know you.' ' But you lost your purse,' said the chief, in rather a humble voice. ' And was there much in it ^' asked the priest. The chief laughed. Breakfast now followed, a.nd of this the priest partook heartily. Then he started up. ' I must make haste,' said he, ' and continue my journey ; but as I am going into out-of-the-way places, I shall have to ask you for some supplies.' This request was very cheerfully granted, loaves and cold meats being furnished from the Carlist larder. These the priest put into a wallet, and thus equipped, he was ready for the march. ^Adios' said he, ' noble captair, till we meet again.' ' Adios/ said the chief. The priest then shook hands with his entertainer and turned 4—2 53 A CASTLE IN SPA IX. uwjiy. Leaving the cnstle, lie walked down the slope for sonio distance, until ut length lie reached tin; skirts of the forest. Turning round liere, he stood looking back cautiously, till he felt convinced that he had not been followed, and was not observed, He now j)luuged into the forest, and worked his way along until ho came to the chasm and found the path before mentioned, Down this he went on his way back to the tower. now THE CHAPTER XI. FIRST PRIEST VANISHES, AND ANOTHER TRIEsT APPEARS UPON THE SCENE. As the priest emerged from the brushwood at the top of tlic {)ath, he suddenly found himself face to face with the lady. She lad come through the opening, and was standing outside waitiuir there, breathless, her hands clasped, and her eyes set in a fixed ami eager gaze of vigilant outlook and of territied apprehension, As she recognised the i)riest, her whole exjjression changed ; her face Hushed, her eyes grew moist with tears of joy, her lij« quivered. * Oh, thank God ! thank God !' she cried. ' Oh, how glad I am !' The ])riest stood and looked at her in silence, although there was certainly every occasion for saying something. Finally he held out his hand, and she took it in hers, which were cold as ice, and tremulous. ' Poor child !' said the j)riest, ' you have been too excited. ]]ut were you not afraid that it might be some one else V * Yes,' said she ; ' so afraid that I lost all strength and could not get back. I thought I heard .something like that little short laugh of yours that you give, but then it seemed imagination. So I waited, and if it had been an enemy he would have caught me. But I was right, after all,' she ended joyously. • It was your laugh — and you.' Again the priest stood in silence looking at her. * It's worth going over there,' said he at last, ' to make a fellow-creature happy by coming back.' ' Oh no,' she said, ' not for that. Nothing can compensate for the frighiful, the terrible anxiety — nothing. But I will say no more. I am ready now for any fatigue or peril. My worst fear is over.' ' Oh, it's all very well to be glad to see me,' said the priest, with that short laugh to which the lady had referred, ' but] that's nothing to the gladness you'll feel when you see what I've brought back with me. You just wait and see — that's all 1' i A CASTLE IN SPA FN, SZ With the.se worda he ascended into tlie tower throupfh the jjap, and assisted the lady after him. They then went up the Ijrokeu stuirway, and out into the open air to the fallen tree where they had taken their breakfast. Upon this he seated himself, and the ladydidthe same. He now opened the wallet, 'and distributed to horsome of his stock of provisions, pointing' out to her with an air of triumph the fact that they had cnout^h to last them for a week. The lady said but little and ale but little ; the priest, for his part, ate less ; so the breakfast was soon desp.atclit'd ; after whiidi the priest loaded his pi{)e and smoked the smoke of peace. The priest, as he smoked, occasionally threw a furtive glance at the lady, who now sat al)sorbed in her own meditations. * I propose to ask yci a few cpiestious,' said the priest, * merely for the sake of conversation, and you needn't answer unless you like. In the tirst place, you haven t been long in Si)aiu, I take it?' ' No,' said the lady ; ' only a few days.' 4 ' And you are on your way back to England V 'Yes.' ' Have you been travelling alone V *At first I had a maid, but she got frightened and left me at Bayonne. Since then I have had to travel alone.' ' You mustn't think me too inqui.sitive,' said the priest. ' I merely wished to know in a general way, and am by no means trying to pry into your affairs.' He spoke in a cai'eless tone. He was lolling in an easy attitude, and appeared to be enjoying his smoke very much. After saying these words, he began to fuss with his pipe, which did not draw well, humming to himself at tlie same time some absurd verses : '!My love ho was a draper's clerk, lie came to soo mo al'lor dark : Arouud the I'ark wo used to stray- To hear the lily-whito bandsmen play. Cnoiius OF Deapee's Cleeks. Hark! from iIk? tombs a doleful sound, My love lies buried underground !' A faint smile came over the lady's face as she heard these non- sensical words from one in the garb of a priest. Still, she reflected that while it was his voice that was singing, his mind was no doubt intent on something else. ' By-the-bye,' resumed the priest, ' as I'm asking questions, I should like to ask one more. JMay I V ' Most certainly,' said the lady. * Wliat is it V ' Well, your name, you know. It's awkward to be as we are. Now, if I were shot and wanted you to help me, I shouldn't know what to call you.' 54 A CASTLE IN SPAIN, \\ \ ■ill The lady smiled. ' My name is Talbot,' said she. * Ah— Mrs. Talbot,' said the priest ; * thauks.' ' Not " Mrs." ' Haid the lady, ajjaiii smiliuf,' ; ' Miss Talbot. !My full name is Sydney Talbot.' ' Sydney Talbot"' repeated the priest. 'Thanks. That's all. Everythiiifj else is told. I may add, however, in an iucident;il ■way, that my name is Brooke.' * Father Brooke T said the lady interroffatively, with a furtive smile which was perhaps occasioned by tlie inconsniity between the priest's sacred garb and somewhat eccentric manner. To this question the reply was not particularly appropriate. The priest, or Brooke, as he may now be called, looked with a smile of quiet drollery at Miss Talbot, and then, in a strange whining voice, began to drone out some verses of a song : ' 01(1 Bluebeard was n warrior bold, IIo kept his wives in a groat stronpfhold. One— Two — Three — Four — Five— Six — Seven — They all of them died and wont to Heaven. Old B, fell into a dismal state, And went and married Number Eight.' * Well,' he resumed in his natural voice, ' Father Brooke isn't bad; Brother Brooke, however, would be better; but, on the whole, simple " Brooke " is the best of all.' * Well, now, Mr. Brooke,' asked the lady anxiously, 'what are our prospects ? Have you found out anything V *0h yes ; I've had a conversation witli an amiable Carlist ^\ll') was on the point of Mowing my brains out, and was only prevented by the unpu:alleled "cheek " of the unworthy beins,' who now addresses you.' ' Did you really incur such danger V asked Miss Talbot in un- feigned anxiety. ' Danger ? Oh, a trifle ; but a miss is as good as a mile. I'm here now, safe and sound, but for two or three seconds you ran a great risk of making your journey alone. However, I made friends with them, and was entertained royally. Now, as to escape. I'm sorry to say that the country is swarming everywhere with these noble Carlists ; that there is no such thing as law ; that there are no magistrates, no police, no post-oftice, no telegraph, no railway trains, no newspapers, and no taxes except of an irregular kind.' 'That is very bad,' said Miss Talbot slowly, and in a low, anxious voice. ' Oh yes,' said Brooke, ' but it's just as I feared. y * you know, '" There was an old man with a beard," III! .1 CASTLE rX SPA/X. ' '' Who snid, ♦ It i3 just na I foai-ed — Two owls niul a wron And a cock lui'l n In-ii Ilttvo all built thoir nests in my board.' " 'That's ino. I told you ho. Still, thoro'.s no need to despair. It's (Hiite plain that we cannot travel by day without hein;^' dis- coveiL'il, so we shall have to try it by ni,L,dit. This will be all the lietter. So you must spend this day in meditation and praytu', iunl also in laying uj) a stock of bodily and (uental strength. To- lUL^lit we set forth, and wo must ))iove on all night long. May [ ask if there is any place in particular to which you prefer going V * None whatever. I must leave myself altogether to you.' 'So I suppose,' said Brooke. ' JJut is there no danger in this place, Mr. Brooke V ' Danger ? None whatever. I can't explain to you liow coni- plotely this is out of the way of everyone, whether marauder or Iioiiest man. You may be perfectly at your case ou that score. Will this ])lace satisfy you V ' Perfectly. But I should like very much to tell you, Mr. Brooke, how grateful I feel for all this trouble and ' 'Ah, now. Miss Talbot !' cried Brooke, averting his face, and holding up both hands, 'don't — don't ! Let's drop all that sort of thing. It's part of the mockery of civilization. Words generally count for nothing. Acts are all in all. What 1 ask of you is for you to gather up your strength so as to be able to foot it with me and not break down. But first of all, I must say I very nuich wish you had some costume a little less marked than that of an English lady. Now, if you could pass as a peasant-girl, or an old woman, or a goatherd's wife, or a vender of quack medicines, or anyLhhig humble and yet national, why- Miss Talbot shook her head with a mournful smile, and looked troubled. 'I've had an idea all day,' said Brooke, 'which I suppose there's no great harm in mentioning.' ' What ]' ' What do you say to disguising yourself as a priest ]' * A priest ? How can I ]' ' Well, with a dress like this of mine. H'h very convenient — long, ample, hides everything — just the thing, in fact. You can sli|) it on over your present dress, and — there you are, transformed into a priest. I hope you're not proud.' ' I'm sure I should be only too glad to disguise myself, but where can I get the dress ?' ' Take this one.' . ' The one that you have ]' 'Yes.' ' But what will you do ?' S6 A CASTLE IN SPALY. * Do without.' ' But that will expose you to dauger.' 'No it won't. It won't make the slightest difference. I'm only wearing this for the sake of variety. The fact is, you see, I found I was growing too volatile, and so I assumed a priest's d) ess, in the hope that it would give nie greater sobriety and weight of character. I've been keeping it up for three (.lays, and feel a little tired of it. So yuu may have it— a free gift— breviary and all, especially the breviary. Come— there's a fair offer.' * I really cannot make out,' said Miss Talbot, with a laugli, * Avhether you are in jest or earnest.' 'Oil, then take me in earnest,' said Brooke, 'and accept the offer. You see, it's your only chance of escape. You know old Billy Mngee. ' " Old Billy Magpc wore a flaxen wig, And a beard did his face surround, Tor the baiUic came racing alter ho With a tal fur iifty pound." So what do you say to gracefully giving way to necessity V ^ If you really think that you will be running no risk ' * No more than I've always been running until three days ago.' ' Well, I shall be very glad indeed, and only too much obliged.' ' That's an unconuuonly sensible decision,' said Brooke. ' Yuii see,' said he, as he unbuttoned the priest's robe, ' I've merely been wearing this over my usual dress, and you can do the same.' As he spoke he drew olf the robe. ' You can slip it on,' he continued, ' as easy as wink, and you'll find it quite large enough every way.' And now Brooke stood divested of the priest's duss, revealing himself clothed iu a suit of brown tweed — hunting-coat, knicker- bockers, stocking.'*; laced boots, etc. He then took from his coat pocket a travelling-cap with a visor, which he put upon his head. ' You can hnve the priest's hat too,' he added, 'and — But no, by Jove ! I won't — no, I won't let you have the spectacles. You might wear them in case of need, though, for they're only plain glass. But hang it ! I can't — I can't and you shan't. Oidy fancy putting s})ectacles on the angel Gabriel !' Meanwhile Miss Talbot had taken the priest's robe and had thrown it over her own dress. The clerical frock was of cloth, long enough to reach to her feet, and buttoned all the way from her chin down. Around the neck was a cape, which descended half-way to the knees. As she p.issed her arms through the sleeves she remarked that it would fit her admirably ; and then, taking the hat, she retired inside the tower, so as to adjust the outlines of her new costume iu a more satisfactory manner than ' A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 57 was possible before a spectator. At the door of the tower she turueJ. ' One thing will be against me,' said she. ' Whac shall I do about it V ' ^Vllat is that V^ .' Why, my hair.' 'Your hair !' rej)eated Brooke. 'Il'm — well, that is a piizisle !' ' [t will interfere with anything like a real disgnise, of course.' ' Well, I suppose it woukl. In which case we can only hupe not to come near enough to the enemy to be closely inspected.' * l[;ul I not better cut it oil" V saiil Miss Talbot. ' What !' exclaimed Brooke, with amai^ement in his face. Miss Talbot repeated her (j[uestion. ' Cut oil' your hair — that hair !' said Brooke. ' What a horrible idea !' ' Will you cut it V * Never !' said Brooke fervently. 'Shall I r Brooke drew a long breath and looked earnestly at her. * Oil, don't ask me,' said he at length, in a dejected tone. ' I'm iloorod ! It's like throwing overboard a cargo of gold, and silver, and precious stones to lighten the slii]). Yea, more, it's like tlie Russian woman who threw over her chikl to the wolves to make possible the escape of the reot ot the family. But there are some who would prefer to be eaten by wolves rather than sacrifice the child.' ' Well,' said Miss Talbot, ' your comparison of the child is a little too much ; but if it comes to throwing the treasure over- board to save the ship, I shall not liesitate a moment.' Brooke made no reply, and Miss Talbot went into the tower. Brooke then resumed his seat, and, looking thoughtfully into vacancy, sang in a low voice all to himself : ' Oh, a princess tliero wag in tbo north countree, And hor hair reached down below her knee ; And lovers they j^atliered by thousands there, For love of the maid with tho golden hair.' CHAPTER XII. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT TAFvK TO FLIGHT. CPvOOKE was roused from his meditations by a light footstep close beside him. He looked up and saw Miss Talbot standing before him in her new costume. As he looked he rose to his feet and gazed at her fixedly without a word. The change was wonderful. It was no longer a young lady that he saw — it was a young priest. The broad hat cime down 58 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. low upon the lioail, and beneath it there was a face full of sweet dignity and gentle grace, a face serene, and noble, and pure. Such a face liaffaelle loved to reproduce while portraying the Angel of the Visitation, where youth, and radiant beauty, and unsullied puiity, and divinest grace all ai)pear combined in one celestial visage. Brooke looked for some time with the same intent gaze, and in utter silence. * How do you think I look V asked Miss Talbot. ' Look V repeated Brooke. He hesitated as if at a loss, and then went on in a way that was peculiarly his own. ' Look ] Oh, first-rate — very well — very well indeed. In fact, I had no idea that you could transform yourself so com))letely. I believe I was on the point of saying something about a vision of angels, but I'll be comniouplace. All I can say is, that if I were to meet such a priest in real life, I'd down on my knees at once, make a confession, and — No, I wouldn't ; I'd try to become a priest myself, so as to be always somewhere near him. Anil if he were a monk, I'd join the same monastery ; and if he were a missionary, I'd go with him to the uttermost ends of the earth ; if the cannibals ate him up, I'd make them eat me too ; and, in any event, I should feel that in such company I should be nearer heaven than anywhere else. For, you see, you've always lived in a serene atmosphere, where you have known nothing of the evil of the worhl, and so your face has on it the stamp of heaven itself, which it first received, and which has never been etFaced. So, you see, you're just the one to go about as a priest. Oh, iL'.s a gi^eat advantage io be as you are, and to have that angelic face ! Like the old man in the song : ' " Ob, ho never p;ot drunk and ho never swore, And ho never did viohito the lor ; And so we huriod him uudorf^round, And the i'unerivl-hell did merrily sound Ding ! Dong ! Dell !" ' Thus far Brooke had rattled ou in a strange, dry fashion ; but suddenly he stopped, and then exclaimed : * Good Heavens !' ' What's the matter V asked Miss Talbot, who had seemed much amused at all this nonsense. ' Why, what have you done with your hair V Miss Talbot laised her hat from her head, and looked at him. Again he looked at her in silence. Yes, it wns all gone ! That glorious hair, which awhile ago had been folded in great masses romul her head, was there no longer. She had cut it off ! It was short now, like the hair of a young man, and hung loose iu wavy curls over her forehead. Yet so far from her appearaiiee being'marred or disfigured by such a mutilation, the result was A CAS TLB IN SPATN. 59 actually more becoming to her as she stood there iu her new costume. Few could have made such a sacrifice without serious injury to their appearance ; but in this case there was merely a clian^e from one character to another, and all the beauty and all the .subtle fascination still remained. ' I couldn't have believed it/ said Brooke, at length. ' What V * Oh, well — several things. In the first place I couldn't have believed that any living girl could have made the sacrifice. In the second place, I couldn't have believed that the one who had passed through such an ordeal could come forth more fflorious than ever. But the sacrifice was too much. However, Us done. " Na lever shake your gory locks at me. Thou cans't not say I did it. But where is it all /' qt/ What r ' As if you don't know 1 Why, the treasure that you threw overboard— the child that you flung to the wolves, O Russian mother !' ' Oh, you mean the hair ! Why, I left it in there.' She pointed carelessly to the tower. At this Brooke went over and entered it. lie saw a mass of hair lying there on the stone flooi', where she had carelc&.sly thrown it after cutting it off. Tills] he gathered up very carefully and even tenderly, picking up even small scattered locks of it. Then he rolled it all up into the smallest possible space, after which he bound it tight in his handkerchief and put it in his ])ocket. He was, as usual, sing- ing to himself snatches of old songs which expressed nothing in particular ; ' " The miiidcn sho savs to liim, says sho, ' Another man's uifo I've got to be ; So go thy ways across the sea, Foi' all is over with you and rac' " ' Which words had certainly no particular application to present circumstances. When he came out again, Miss Talbot was seated on the tree iu a meditative mood. ' I was just picking up the hair,' said Brooke, in an indilFei^ent tone. ' If we were tracked here and pursued it might tell tales, aud it would tell too much.' ' Oh, how thoughtless of me !' said she. ' But really I did in- tend to go back and throw it down into the torrent. You see, I was so anxious to know if my disguise was right, that I hurried out at once to show you.' 'Oh, it's all the same. I've disposed of it better than you would have done.' ' I shall try not to be so thoughtless again.' Brooke oaid nothing, but seated hims'lf near her on the log. 6o A CASTLE IN SPAIN. ' I'm sorry you don't smoke,' said he, after a pause ; * but I hope- you don't object to my taking a small whiff now and then.' ' Oh no,' said Miss Talbot. * I like to see you smoking.' ' Do you know,' said Brooke, after he had agaui mied au'l lighted his inevitable pipe — 'do you know, I think your cha- racter is almost perfect.' * Why, because I don't object to smoking V asked Miss Talbot, with a smile. ' Well, I take that as one of the many straws which show how the wind blows. But do you really mean to tell me that you don't regret wh-^t you li.ive done V ' What, with my hair i What a question ! Regret it ? Not at all. It will grow again — in time. To use your own figure, when the sailor is struggling for life against the storm, he doesu't regret the treasure that he has flung overboard so as to lighten the ship. And do you think that I am so weak as to hesitate for a moment when your safety as well as my own is concex-ued I For, you see, I have to remember that while I am with you, you too are in danger. So no hesitation is possible. How could I liave the heart to ask you to help me, if I persisted in keeping up any kind of dress that might endanger both of us V Brooke made no reply, but sat pufiing out great clouds of smok;\ After some lapse of time he opened his mouth to speak. ' I wish you had heavier boots,' said he. * Yes,' said Miss Talbot, ' my boots are my weak point. But, you see, I never anticipated a walk of twenty or thirty miles. However, my dress is long, and perhaps my feet will not be noticed.* ' Oh, it isn't the fear of their being noticed, but the danger that they may give way altogether in our rough walk, and leave you barefoot among the rocks.' 'Well, if I find them giving way, I shall wrap ragsi aroniul them before they go to pieces altogether.' After a further silence Brooke s])oke again. * There's one thing more,' said he, ' that may be mentioned. We may make good our escape to-night, as I hope, but then — we may not. To provide against occurrences of all sorts, it's as well to adopt certain fixed characters and act them out. You are a priest — remember that ; never forget it. You have that breviary, which you will do well to look at from time to time. There's mighty good reading in that breviary, though I'm sorry to say I never could find it ; but no doubt you'll do more justice to it than I did, especially if you understand Latin, which I'm afraid you don't. But, you see, it won't do for me to call you " Miss Talbot." We migl)'.; be captured by fellows who understand English, aiul they would at once take the hint. And so suppose I drop the "Miss," and call you simply "Talbot" l' A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 6i * That's a very good suggestion,' said Miss Talbot. ' The name will be my own, and familiar, and better than any strange name or title which you might invent. Oh ves, by all means drop the "Miss."' _ 'You will understand, of couree,' said Brooke anxiously, 'that iu this proposal there is no disrespect, no attempt at undue familiarity, no ' ' Surely, surely,' said Miss Talbot earnestly, ' it's hardly neces- sary to say all that. If you adopt that tone, I shall have to begin and tell you how deeply grateful I am, how much I owe you, how I long to do something to ' ' Oh, well ! Come, now, if you go on in that way, I am shiit up at once.' He relapsed into silence. After a few minutes he spoke agoin. ' Talbot,' said he, in a strange tone, much softer than his usual voice. ' Well ?' said Miss Talbot gently. 'Aslhave dropped the "Miss," have you any objections to drop the "Mister," and address me by the simple and uncon- ventional name of " Brooke " ' You see, it's very important for us, iu our circumstances, to cultivate this seeming familiarity. If you were really a young priest, and I were really your friend and travelling companion, we should address one another iu this fcimple fashion.' ' I have no objection whatever,' said Miss Talbot, ' and I do not see why you should take such pains to explain . It is enough for you to ask. "Whatever you say I will do.' ' Say " Brooke," then.' ' Brooke,' said Miss Talbot, with a little shyness. * And now, Talbot, I intend to use your surname only in speak- ing to you, and I hope that you will do the same with me. This is merely for practice.' * Certainly, Brooke.' The name came a little awkwardly at first, but after a little further conversation this difficulty passed away, and the two addressed one another quite naturally in this simple fashion. And now, as Brooke has chosen this name for Miss Talbot, I also will drop the ' Miss,' and call her henceforth simply * Talbot.' Brooke mp.de Talbot lie down all the rest of the day, so as to sleep, if possible, and, at any rate, to lay up a good stock of strength for the formidable work of the approaching night. AVith her usual considerateness and docility, Talbot obeyed ; and although she did not sleep, she certainly obtained an amount of rest of which she stood iu great need. At length the evening came, and the two ate their repast, after which Brooke secreted the remainder of the provisions iu the tower, by way of precaution. It was not necessary, he said, 62 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. to crwiT tliiit load, and if they were forced to return it would be there for iheir use. They started a little after sunset. An hour's walk broii<,rlit them to the road, at the s])ot where they had first met, at'ler which they turned toward tbe place where Brooke had left the train on the previous day. Their pace was a moderate one, for the whole night was before them, and Brooke was anxious to suve Talbot's strength as much as possible. For about an hour more they walked along, until they came to where the country was more open. The moon was sliiniiijj brightly, and thus far there had been no signs of life. But at this point there came up sounds from the road before them which were not a little alarming. Brooke laid himself \\)ion the grouud, and listened for some time. 'People are approaching,' said he. 'There is quite a large crowd. They must be Carlists. It will be dangerous for us to go on any farther. It will be better to hide here until they jjas^.' ' Very well,' said Talbot. ' I quite agree with you. I should hate to go back again.' There was on their right, not far from the road, an old wind- mill, which stood upon a gently rising ground, and was quite a conspicuous object. This caught the eye of Brooke as he looked all around. ' There,' said he, ' is the place for us. These fellows seem to be on the march. They will soon pass by this and be gone. Let us hide in the old mill.' Talbot at once assented. They then left the road and crossed the fields. In a short time they reached the mill. It was deserted, and the machinery was out of order, but otherwise it was in good preservation. The door was o])en, and they entered. Having once obtained this concealment, they stood in the dooi'-way anxiously watching. At length they saw a crowd of men come up along the road, and these they regarded with quick-beatiug hearts. ' Brooke,' said Talbot, in a whisper. 'Whatr * What shall we do if they come here V ' That's a solemn question,' said Brooke. * We ought to have something to fall back on. Wait.' He went away for a few minutes, and then returned. As he came back to the door, Talbot pressed his arm and pointed. Brooke looked out. To his horror, the whole band had stopped, and some of them were facing toward the mill as though about to approach it. ' What a mistake we've made !' said Brooke. ' They're coming here !' said Talbot, in a thrilling whisper. * What can we do T Can we fly <' A CAS TLB IN SPA/X 63 'No,' said Bi'ooke ; 'they'll see ns. We have only one Iioik; There's a ladder here, ami we can climb uj) into the loft. Come.' Taking Talbot's hand, Brooke led her to the ladder, and they climbed up into the loft, where they sat li.stonin.fj. Talbot's anticipation was too true. The band approached the mill, and soon the two fugitives heard them all around. CHAPTER XIII. IIOAV BROOKE AND TALBOT MAKE SEVERAL NEW ACQUAINTANCES. For some time the two fugitives remained motionless and listened. There seemed to be a large number of men belpw, of whom a few were inside the mill, but the greater part remained outside. These kept up an incessant jabl)er ; but it was of a discordant character, some talking about getting ready a supi)er, some about making a tire some about forage, Avhile at times a word would be dropped whi'h seemed to indicate that they were in pursuit of fugitives. Nothing more definite than this could be learned. Brooke, however, had been gradually creeping to one side of the mill, where tliere was a window, while Talbot followed as noiselessly as possible, until they both were able from their cou- cealnient to look out upon the scene below, which was in no way calculated to reassure 'them. They saw a crowd of men, about a hundred in number, who looked very much to Brooke like the train-stoppers of the day before. Their arms were piled, and they themselves were dispersed about, engaged in various occupa- tions ; some eating, some drinking, some smoking, while from them all a confused hubbub arose. Half-a-dozen ill-looking fellov;s came towards the door of the mill. 'Afire!' said one. 'Let's burn down the old mill. There's wood enough in it.' * Ay,' said another, ' wood enough for a hundred fires.' A shout of applause greeted this proposal, but tlie hearers above felt their hearts quail with horror. Talbot laid her hand on Brooke's arm. Brooke, to reassure her, took her hand in his and pressed it gently, and felt it cold and tremulous. He drew her nearer to him, and whispered softly in her ear : ' Don't be alarmed. At the worst, we can give ourselves up. Trust to me.' Talbot drew a long breath, and made a desperate efibrt to master her fears ; but the scene below gi-ew more and more terrible. The wild shout of approbation which followed the proposal to burn the mill was caught up by one after another, till at last the whole band was filled with tliat one idea. A dozen 64 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. Ihm men rushed insiile, and began to hammer, and tear, and pull at the flooring and other parts of the woodwork, wliile others busied themselves with preparing splints with which to kindle the firo. ' Brooke,' whispered Talbot in a tremulous voice — ' oh, Brooke, let us go down.' ' Wait — not yet,' said Brooke, on whose brow cold drops of perspiration were already standing. ' Wait. Let us see what they will do.' Talbot drew back with a shudder. ' The mill is of stone,' said Brooke. * They can't burn it.' * But all the inside is of wood,' said Talbot — * the floors, the doors, the machinery, the beams.' Brooke was silent, and watched the preparations outside. These grew more and more menacing. A great pile of wood was soon collected, which grew rapidly to more,formidable proportions. If these prisoners hoped for life, they must leave their present hiding-place, and soon, too ; for soon — ah, too soon, if that pile were once kindled — the flames would pour in, and burn all the inner woodwork, even if the walls were of stone. At this moment a man came hurrying forward, and burst in among the crowd. * What's the meaning of .all this nonsense V he asked in a stcin voice. * Why, we're burning the mill,' said one of the most active of the party. ' Fools !' cried the other, * are you mad ? It will attract attention. We shall be seen — perhaps attacked.' * Pooh !' said the man impudently, ' what of that ? That's all the better.' The other laid his hand upon his sword, and looked as thou^jh he was about to use it, but a wild outcry burst forth from all the crowd, and with an impatient gesture he turned away. By his dress, which was the only uniform visible, and also by his bearing, he seemed to be the captain of the band, yet his authority did not seem to receive any very strong recognition. Still, the sight of this uniform was of itself encouraging to Brooke, who now at once decided upon the course which he should adopt. There was no longer time to hesitate. Already the match was struck, the next moment the flame would be touched to the kindling, and the fires would blaze up. So Brooke called in a loud voice : * Stop I stop till we ^ome down !' At this cry they all looked up in amazement. The match dropped from the hand of the man who held it, and several of the men sprang to their arms. ' Who goes there V cried the one who seemed to be the captain. * Friends,' said Brooke; 'we'll comedown.' Then turning to Talbot, he whispered, * Now, Talbot, is the time to show the stutf you're made of. Courage, my boy, courage ! Remember, —and life an 'Do «f!o clock, Wit followi A CASTLE AV SPA IX. 65 Tiilbot, you're not a gii'l now — not a weak girl, but you're a boy —and au English boy ! Itenieniber that, my lad, for now your life and mine too depend upon you I' ' iJon't fear for me,' said Talbot firmly. ' Good !' said Brooke. ' Now follow me, and be as cool as a clock, even if you feel the muzzle of a pistol against your forehead !' With these cheerful words Brooke descended and Talbot followed. The ladder had not been removed, [for the simple reason that it consisted of slats nailed against two of the principal beams, too solid even for Samson himself to shake. On renchiug the lower storey they hurried out at once, and the gang stood collected together awaitiug them — a grim and grisly throng. Among them, the man whom Brooke had taken for their captain was now their spokesman. * Who are you V he asked rudely, after a hasty glance at each. Brooke could not now adopt the tone which had been so effective in the morning, for his gown was off, and he could no longer be the Cure of Santa Cruz. He kept liis coolness, how- ever, and answered in au off-hand manner : ' Oh, it's all right ; we're friends. I'll show you our papers.' ' All right V said the other with a laugh. * That's good, too !' At this all the crowd around laughed jeeringly. * I belong to the good cause,' said Brooke. ' I'm a loyal subject of his Majesty. Viva el Rey P He expected some response to '^his loyal sentiment, but the acti\al result was simply appalling. The captain looked at him, and then at Talbot, with a cruel stare. *■ Ah !' said he. ' I thought so. Boys,' he continued, turning to his men, * we're in luck. We'll get something out of these devils. They're part of the band. They can put us on the track !' This remark was greeted with a shout of applause. * Allow me to inform you, senor,' said the captain to the unfortunate Brooke, ' that you have made a slight mistake. You are not our friends but our enemies. We are not Carlists, but Republicans. I am Captain Lopez, of the Fourteenth Eegiment, and have been detailed with these brave fellows on a special mission. You are able to give us useful information ; but if you refuse to give '"^ you shall both be shot.' In' spite of the terrible mistake which he had made, Brooke kept his coolness and his presence of mind admirably. ' I'm very glad to hear it,' said he to Lopez, ' The fact is, I thought you were Carlists, and so I said that £ was one too — aa anyone would do. But I'm not a Carlist ; I'm a Hepublicau.' Lopez, at this, gave utterance to a derisive laugh. ' Oh yes,' he said, * of course, you are anything we please. And if we should turn out, after all, to be Carlists, you would swear 5 66 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. that you are a Carlist again. Doehu't it strike you, aefior, that you are trilliuij with us V '1 assure you, Captain Lopez/ said Brooke, 'that I'm not a Carlist, for I'm not a Spaniard.' * V^ou may not be a Spaniard, yet still be a devoted Carlist.' ' Yes, but I'm not. I assure you that I'm a liepublican. Siiall I prove it to you and to all these gentleman /' * Try it,' sneered Lopez. * I'm an Amciican,' said Brooke. ' An American,' repeated Lopez bitterly. * Better for you to be a Carlist than that. Is it not enough for you Americans to intermeddle with our aihiirs in Cuba, and help our rebels there, but nuist you also come to help our rebels here I But come— what is your business here ? Let's see what new pretence you have to oifer.' ' I am a traveller.' * Yes, I suppose so,' sneered Lopez. * And wlio is this other ?' * He is a young priest.' ' A young priest ? Ah ! Then, seiior, let me inform you that as Spaniards we hate all Americans, and as llepublicans we hate all priests. Spain has ha oo much of both. Americans are her worst enemies o .tside .ind priests inside. Down with all Americans and priests !' The echo to this sentiment came in a shout from all the followers of Lopez, ' Down with all Americans and priests !' With this cry a hundred tierce faces surrounded them, aud glared at them with liei'y eyes. It seemed as though their last hour had come. The crowd pressed closer, and clamoured for their immediate destruction. The only thing that held them back was the attitude of Brooke, who stood perfectly cool and tranquil, with his eyes fixed on Lopez, a good-natured smile on bis face, and his hands carelessly in his pockets. Close beside him stood Talbot, pale, it is true, but with a calm exterior that showed not one trace of feai'. Brooke did not see her, aud did not venture to look at her, but he felt that she was as firm as a rock. Had they faltered in the slightest degree, thf storm must have burst ; but as it was, the calmness of these two disarmed the fury of the mob, and their fierce passion died away. * Captain Lopez,' said Brooke, in a quiet and friendly tone, * you may have reason to hate my country, but I assure you that you have .absolutely no cause for complaint against me and my friend. We are simple travellers who have been interrupted on our i Airu 3y, and are now trying to get to the nearest milway stat.on so as to resume it as soon as possible.' ' IJ^ .N^ did you get here V asked Lopez, after a pause in which he again scrutinized severely the two prisoners. Brooke had anticipated tjiis question, aud had made up his A CASTA/- IN SPALY, 67 tiiiml .13 to his .ai)s\v>'r. It was his iiiteutioii to identify hinmeif \vitli Talbot, ami speak as thoiigli ho had all along been truvelliuf,' ^vith ' the young priest.' ' Our train stopped,' said he, * and we took the diligence over this road yesterday. We were stojtped again, eaptnreil and robbed by C'arlista, . id we have escaped from them, and are now tryiii ( to get back.' ♦ \\ as your train stopped by Carlista V 'No ; the diligence.' ' Where did the Carlists go V • 1 have no idea.' ' Where did you come from last V ' Jiarceloua.' ' Where are you going now ?' *To England,' said lUooke ; 'and finally,' he added, 'allow mo to show you this, which I am sure will establish my character in your eyes.' With these words he drew for'tu a pa|)er and handed it to Lopez. The latter took it, and one of the men lighted a bit of wood which scivecl as a torch, after which Lo])ez read the following : ' Hcadquai'Ur/t, Vittori \ Majj 10/7/, 1873. * 77iis is to cert if// that the hearer of this is an American ciii'-iu named ItaUujh Brooke, and is correspondent of a Neio York- journal. He has 2icrmission to traverse our lines in par- sail of his business. ♦Concha.' Lopez read it c. er a second time. 'A newspaper correspondent !' said he. 'Il'm! That means a spy.' He handed it back again to Brooke, who replaced it in hid pocket. ' I'll think it over,' respondetl Lopez. * I'll examine you both to-morrow and inspect your papers. I'm too tired now. You may both go inside again where you were hiding before. AVe won't burn you up.' At these last words the whole gang burst into a jeering laugh that foi-eboded something so horrible that the stout heart of Brooke quailed within him, as, followed by Talbot, he once mort eiitered the old mill. CHAPTER XIV. now THE ANXIOUS IIUS.SELL SEEKS TO CONCEAL A TEEASURE. The Russell party, on reaching the castle, were all conducted in- side, where they found themselves in an arched hall which haa aheadv been described. Traversing this, they ascended the 5—2 68 A CASTLE IN SPALY. massive stairway at tlio end, and came to another largo hall ini. mediately above the lower one. Thin had once been the ^'raud l)anf|uetinj,' hall of the castle, and was h's.s rouj,di and severe in its appearance than other parts ; for while the wali;< elsuwhero showed the nnlinished faces of the rude blocks of stone, here there was an efl'ort after somethini,' like ornament ; yet this waa so slirjht that even here the general air was still one of Hevere and austere grandeur, as if there had been wrought out in this stonework the mind of the stern (Joth who reared it, who lield it, not for a home, but rather for a fortress, whence ho could dominate the surrounding country. If Harry had cherished any \\o\\q of prolonging his acquaint- ance with Katie he was now destined to be disappointed ; for on reaching this upper liall they were informed that they would liave to bo separated — the men to go in one direction and the women in another. This arrangement was partly for the comfort of both parties, but still more for their safe keeping, since escape would thus be far more diificult. Accordingly the ladies, were taken away by some female attendants ; while Russell iu company with Ifarry, was takeu to their quarters ou the oppo- site side of the great hall. Ilei'e they found themselves in an apartment which was very long, very wide, and vei'y lofty. The roof was arched, and all the stones were of cyclopeau dimensions. At one end there was an immense fireplace. On either side there were narrow win- dows, which on one side looked down on the front yard inside the wall, while on the other they commanded a view of one of the inner courtyards, Harry, on his first entrance into the room, walked about surveying the place, and noting these par- ticulars by the lurid glow of the torches. This first survey assured him that, as far as appearances went, there was scarcely any possibility of escape. The walls were too strong to be pene- trated iu any way, ancl the windows wei'e too narrow for any one to pass through. In fact, they were slits, rather than windows. IMoreover, even if it had been possible for any one to pass through the windows, the ground below was too far away to bo reached without some means of descent. Finally, there were the armed men outside, and the extreme wall, wdiich was too lofty to be scaled. On the whole, the prospect was highly unsatisfac- tory, and Harry turned away from this first survey with a feeling of mild dejection. There was scarcely anything in the room which deserved the name of furniture. In one corner there was a rude structure with straw on it, which was intended for a bed. Opposite tliis there was a ponderous oaken bench, and upon this old Russell seated himself wearily. Here he sat, and as Harry completed his survey of the apai'tment, his eyes rested upon his unfortunate companion as he sat there, the picture of terror, de- aftc A CASTLE AV SPA IX. 69 spoudcncy, ami iiusery. IJarry fflt .111 iuvolimtary pity for tlio mail ; and as his uwu How of spirits was luifailing, ho sot hitn- Bclf to work to try and ohoor him. * Well,' said ho, * this is rathor a dismal placo, llnssoll ; but, after all, it's better than bein<,' ))ut in a vault underj^fround.' * It's j)Up-])reeioua kik-Uik-cold,' said Kussell, ids teeth chatter- ing, partly from cold and partly from terror. ' This'll brinjf ou an attack of rheuuuitiz — that's what it's goiii",' to do. Oh, I know it !' ' Well, it is a little chilly, that's a fact,' said Harry, shruf,',i;inj; his shoulders. ' It's a pity we couldn't use that tiieplace. lUit what a tremendous fireplaco it is ! Why, it's as big as a barn. \Vliat do you say to our amusing ourselves by starting a lire \ It would be great fun.' '15ut we've gig-gig-got no fuel,' said Russell, with a shiver. * Fuel \ Why, let's cut up that big bench.' ' What with /' 'Why, with my pocket-knife, of course. We could whittle enough chips oil' it to make agood big fire, ami still have enough left for a bench. In fact, wo could get enough fuel oil" that for a dozen Hres. Why, man, there must bo at least a cord of wood in that bench. Whittling's rather slow work, it's true, but in a place like this it'll be an occupation, and that's something, rrisonera go mad unless they have something to do ; and so, just to savo myself from madness, t mean to go iu for fuel— unless you can think of something else that's bettor.' liattliug out this iu his usual lively fashion, Harry wont to the beuch and began a solemn examination of it, with a view toward whittling it up into lire wood, llussoll did not move, but re- garded Harry with the same silcut misery in his face. At last ho spoke. ' What did-did-do you think they're a-going to did-d id-do V ' Who r asked Harry. ' Why, these people — that kik-kik-captured us.' * These Carlists i Well, I don't know ; seems to me they want to make some money out of us.' * Why did the}' let all the Spaniards go and kik-kik-capture us V 'Oh, well, they think as we're English we'll probably have more money about us than their own countrymen, and be safer plunder also.' ' Did-did-do you think they'll go so far as to pip-pup-plunder us ]' asked Russell, in a voice of horror. ' Haven't a doubt of it.' ' Oh Lord 1' groaned the other. * What's the matter f Russell gave a fresh groan. This kik-kik-cursed kik-kik-country !' he at length ejaculated.