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"■. 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;i<l a Hiiiali moustache, but no ItiiUij , 
 Nvliiskors, and his lau<?hin,L,' ^"S^^t with his smooth face and wiimii, 
 Hinilc, gave him a most fn^'.i^^in'^ appcarai'ct'. In short, ihni 
 
 fl 
 
 J 
 
 {Ivors was onu of those rare j,'( 
 
 I fellows who make fii 
 
 eiii'c 
 
 wherever they ^o ; who take the world into their eonlid 
 who insiHt on makinjjf everyone familiar with their varvin 
 fttrtunes ; and carry al)(>ut 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, <aii.l 
 
 pent a week tlui 
 cigai-H. J J ore w. 
 , old chap, I (|(iii 
 t tlie .sMiuc tiiiii 
 Future prospeiit 
 ever that may Iji., 
 
 a little down i: 
 
 r 
 
 moral tone, ;iiii 
 
 I don't want t 
 
 o gain sympatlii 
 
 11 1 can say is- 
 
 lat's a fact.' 
 Well, siippo-; 
 
 reflective luoL 
 
 you my fatiiei 
 
 ni.lde for. (. 
 your bosom 1.: 
 
 it now mcilit;.' 
 
 y match.' 
 
 a fellow like 
 18, it would bt 
 
 match V 
 
 Veil, it amounts to that, for I've asketl the girl to clear out 
 I her friemls and come with me.' 
 
 Vtll, old follow, all I can say is, good luck to you both. 
 
 please, mayn't 1 be the best man,' he added, with a dndl 
 
 bt that brought an iiivoluntarv smile to Ashby's face. ' But 
 
 in. Who is the charmer / aii(l where is slit; now .'' 
 
 ''ell, to answer your last(iuestion tlrst, she's here— in Hurgos.' 
 
 h.' said Harry, ' I twig ! Came on in the same train. Both 
 
 md it together, ^'ou cut across the border, and are made 
 
 Why, it's like (Iretna (Jreen !' 
 kVell, you've hit it partly, only she's with her friends just 
 a^— that is to say, she's with her gi'ardian and his wife ; and 
 tlii; problem to be solved by me is, how 1 am to get her from 
 th4i|e two dragons.' 
 
 *0h, that can bo done. But now, my boy, to come to the 
 pc^t, who is she ?— her name I' 
 
 *Her name,' said Asliby, ' is Westlotorn — Katie "Westlotorn.' 
 'Westlotoni,' repeated IFarry : ' never saw her, and don't 
 think T ever heard the name in all my life.' 
 
 'I got acquainted with her at Cadiz a few months ago,' said 
 Alhby. ' licr father had been a merchant there, and had died 
 abSlt a year before. She was there with her stej)-niother, who 
 todk no particular care of her — a miserable beast of a woman. 
 Shi was in correspondence with her sister in England, a Mrs. 
 BiMBell, whom she kept urging to come on and take Katie away 
 fnna Spain. This Mrs. Westlotorn had induced her husband 
 before his death to aj^point Kussell, her sister's husband, Katie's 
 guardian, and it was this Russell and his wife whom she ex- 
 paoted on, but they could not get away very easily. After a 
 tilHie ^Irs. Westlotorn decided to move to Jiladrid, which she 
 thotight would be a pleasanter residence. So about three months 
 aflO she made the move, and after that Katie and I saw as much 
 of one another as we wished, and she became regularly engaged 
 to me.' 
 •fio the step-mother approved, did she ?' 
 •Oh, altogether !' 
 *Well, what's the trouble ?' 
 
 *0h, this infernal Russell, the guardian, you know ! As soon 
 as he came on, he and his wife began to make trouble, and tried 
 to break up the engagement ; they also tried to keep me away 
 from the house. Then there was another difficulty : they allowed 
 some Spanish blackguards to get acquainted with them. Mrs. 
 Wistlotorn, the widow, you know, is hot-anddieavy in the chase 
 of a husband, and thought that all the young fellows who came 
 after Katie were after her. The worst of them was a chap named 
 IiMez, who calls himself a cai)tain in the Spanish army — a poor, 
 flwul beggar whom I shall have to horsewhip. And, by-the- 
 
M 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 I 
 
 I (< 
 
 M 
 
 bye, that reminds me — I expect to be called out to-morrow oi 
 next dav.' 
 ' Called out ? how V 
 
 * Oh, by this pitiful fellow Lopez ;' and Ashby related tli. 
 incident at the Madrid station. 
 
 * By Jove 1' said Harry, ' this is lucky. I'm glad I came upoi 
 you at such a time. You won't have to trust to a buuglim 
 Spaniard to be your second.' 
 
 ' The worst of it is,' said Ashby, ' I believe that this Russeu i>: 
 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,<e^'^;|| 
 two was he making himself so infernally agreeable < AVhichi'veinir^ 
 it was, it seemed equally bad. Ashby felt bitterly resentful J^ot 
 against all of them. Katie seemed to be the worst. She miglitwr' 
 have contrived, he thought, to give him some sigti. But then iifSUt 
 recollected that on the previous evening he was tracking Doloieis. . Al 
 wheu he ought to have gone ou Katie's trail. As for Dolores, he*"*' 
 thought that she might at least have shown herself wheu he wa-*^'^ 
 wandering through tlie sti'eets in the morning hours. But perhap P^* 
 she expected to find him in the neighbourhood of Katie,^'*** 
 Evidently he himself had acted like a fool in leaving the hotel.^ ^^^ 
 As for Harry Rivers, he could not help feeling as though this w,i/orw| 
 the woi'st of all. Harry had it now all his own way : a j^mv*'®® ' 
 careless, impulsive dog— a fellow who would forget the wholt^^^**** 
 world while under the influence of a pair of bright eyes — afoUor^^CM 
 who was even now, perhaps, trying to cut him out. The niisei^®"**'^ 
 able humbug, also, by a most abominable chance, had both the;: 
 girls. Both ! Insatiate monster ! would not one sufhce ? 
 
 Thus Ashby chafed, and fumed, and, I am sorry to add, swoi- 
 terribly ; but all the while the train kept rolling on and ou, nut; ^] 
 at length the Ebro valley was reached. Here the scenes tlia:^^'^ 
 opened to view were most attractive. Far away on either sid- 
 was a broad plain, dotted with towns and villages, and filled witljrji ^^ 
 olive -groves and vineyards, where cattle, and sheep, and goat^ygg^j 
 grazed peacefully, and shepherds, goatherds, and vine-dresseis^ ^j^ 
 stained lazily up as the train rolled Dy. The distant horizon ^vajjgjj^,, 
 everywhere terminated by lofty mountains— on th? south, tWath«r 
 circling range of the Sierra de Grados ; on the north, the loiiuach m 
 line of the ^Pyrenees and the Asturian mountains, their sidtjiona 1 
 covered with foliage, their summits crowned with snow. It ^vapi(>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<!ii|Bsque for brigands. In fact, they looked like a gang of 
 
 of history aiiToati|rds who had just taken to brigandage. 
 
 effort for man; «i||,ard lot !' muttered Ashby to himself. 
 
 les of Hannik ^^ the tatterdemalions reached the spot, and extended their 
 
 vincible le^ioB-inea fin both sides to the end of the train. At eveiy window 
 
 ahmau, with l; ,hey »houted, * Back ! back ! Be quiet, and no harm will be 
 
 of the marti lonej* Shouting such words as these, they aimed their guns so 
 
 Ferdinand :ii.'ecklei(jly and with such furious gestures at the windows, that the 
 
 of the redcoaoassei^ers all shrank back, not only into their seats, but even into 
 
 he time of ti:-,heir toots. The lines of armed men thus stood guardinrr the 
 
 these nortlier;rain^.TBrhile the passengers cowered insidfi. After a time "a cry 
 
 years ago, lea ■ as iNlird from some one who was passing along, and who, as he 
 
 rest of Sp;viii,jaMg4 kept shouting into each carriage : 
 
 ■tioiis ; past tin *Hb train has been stopped in the name of his Majesty King 
 
 meyards ; paiJluHp. All passengers are ordered to come out forthwith. 
 
 2—2 
 
I 1 
 
 20 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ! 1 
 
 Arms and weapons of all kinds must be left behind. Eesiotai. 
 will be punished with death. God save the King !' 
 
 After this the guards came and opened all the dooi's, ainl tl 
 passengers steppeil forth in obedience to orders. Of these tin 
 were about a hundred altogether, and each one remained on t 
 spot where he alighted, and was forbidden to move in any dii, 
 tion. From where Ashby stood he could see the whole orov 
 — the ]nisoners and their captors. He saw a group aligliti. 
 from a carriage a little ahead. First came Harry Ilivers, steppi 
 out (piite gaily, as though it was a picnic. On reaching; t 
 ground, he turned and assisted the ladies to descend. This 
 did by the simple yet pleasinf^ proce.«v; of lifting them down \m 
 — first Katie, then Dolores. At this sight Ashby gnashed 
 teeth with jealous rage. Then came Eussell, whom, it is jierli: 
 unnecessary to state, Harry did not lift down. Nor did i: 
 gallant and chivalrous youth venture to lift down Mrs. Iius> 
 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, aii<l then waid : 
 
 ' Wi.'il, you see, the friend that I waiiti'<l to see is a lady.' 
 
 'Of course,' said Katie; 'that's a self-evident fact. \ know 
 
 at, and she is your lady-love, liut 1 want to kuow all about 
 
 T. and, lirst of all, her name,' 
 
 * t diiln't think that you thought I was thinkijit,' of a lady,' 
 id [farry. 
 'What a ridiculous ohservation !' said Katie ; 'and T know you 
 
 iiily say that to tease me, when you know I'm so curious about 
 
 lis friend of yours.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Harry, ' in the first place, her name is Talbot.* 
 
 'Talbot/ What else r 
 
 ' Sydney— Sydney Talbot' 
 
 '.Sydney Talbot ."^ Jhit that isn't a girl's name; it's a man's 
 lame.' 
 
 * At any rate,' said Harry, ' it's her name.' 
 ' Well, but hasn't she some pet nanui — something more feminiiu', 
 
 yiich as " Minnie," for instance, or " Nellii'," or " Kiltie," or 
 
 Florri " or something of that sort V 
 
 ' Xo ; her only name is Sydney Talbot. You see, Sydney is a 
 family name, and had to he perjietuated. She ha<l no brothers, 
 111(1 so it was given to her. Her father's name was also Sytlney 
 ralhot, and her grandfather's, and ' 
 
 'And her great-grandfather's,' chimed in Katie, 'and so on up 
 
 Noah ; but his name, at any rate, was not Sydney Talbot. 
 
 low this is a very romantic beginning, so go on. I will only 
 
 binark that I intend to be great frientls with your wife some 
 
 lay, and that I've made up my mind to call her " Syddie," 
 
 ^lle is actually j)iniug for a pet name. But what do you call 
 
 ' I ? Oh, I call her I\Iiss Talbot.' 
 
 ' Miss ! You call her Miss — Talbot ? What a horrible idea ! 
 Lud you pretend to love her !' ci-ied Katie reproachfully. 
 
 ' Well — but you know, Sydney is too still'.' 
 
 ' Then why not invent a name I Call her " Poppet," or "Topsy," 
 
 jor " Fitine," or " Rosie,"' or " Gracie." Why, I could supply you 
 
 [with lifty or sixty names on the spot. But this is all itUe trilling. 
 
 (lo on and tell me more. Give a full and complete account of 
 
 [yourself and your " own one." ' 
 
 ' W^ell, you know, I'm doing business iu Barcelona, and we 
 [were engaged to be married last year.' 
 
;8 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ' Did you see her last iu Barcelona V 
 
 * No, iu Enj^'laiul, last year. I met her iu Loutlon.' 
 
 * ITave you uot seen her siuce V 
 
 ' No. We have correspouiled ever since, and this marriage w: 
 arranged by letter.' 
 
 * Oh, but you're not married yet ?' said Katie, iu a low voice. 
 'No,' said Harry, 'and heaveu only kuows when we evt 
 
 shall be.' 
 
 ' Why V 
 
 •Oh, well— because there's been such a muddle about it a! 
 You see, I projjosed, and was accepted, iu the usual course u 
 things.' 
 
 ' Ah, now, Mr. Rivers,' said Katie, ' that's not fair !' 
 
 ' Fair ! what isn't fair V 
 
 * Why, you're skipping all the best part.' 
 ' The best part ? I don't understand.' 
 
 ' 'Well, I mean you're leaving out all the love parts. I want t( 
 hear all about your love-affair — how you first saw her ; how yo: 
 felt ; how she treated you ; how you were tormented by the paiigi 
 of jealousy, agitated by hope and fear, until you knew that sli- 
 was yours. And you have the heart to skip all this, and go on t' 
 the stupid, commonplace end of it !' 
 
 Ilarry laughed. 
 
 ' Well,' said he, ' the end of my case has not yet come ; aul 
 the farther on I go the more exciting it grows. But I'll tell you 
 all if you waut me to. Shall I begin at the beginning, and tel! 
 you how I first became acquainted with her V 
 
 ' Yes, yes, do !' said Katie eagerly. 
 
 ' Well, it was at sea, iu a tremendous gale, when we botl 
 were face to face with death.' 
 
 At this Katie threw up her eyes, clasped her hands, and ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 'Oh, how perfectly eo^-quisite ! how utterly delicious! ho^T 
 quite too awfully jolly ! But when ? where ] Oh, do go on !' 
 
 'It was aboard the steamer from Marseilles to Leghorn. 
 During the night after leaving a furious storm arose.. Th" 
 steamer was an old rattletrap, and soon began to leak fearfully, 
 I was iu ni}' berth, trying to sleep, when at last I was roused 
 by a yell from all the crew and passengers. I rushed out 
 and on deck,, and saw the sea all breaking in foam over the 
 vessel. The passengers aud crew were all mixed up iu a wild, 
 confused mass, trying to scramble into the boats. This was 
 made visible by lightuing flashes at intervals, after which every- 
 thing would become as black as night. I oaw that nothing could 
 be done, so I took my station near the mizen phrouds, and held 
 on there, waiting for the end. While here I saw a female figure 
 crouching down under the bulwarks and clingiug there. Partly 
 
A CAS TLB TN SPAIN. 
 
 29 
 
 larnage w 
 
 low voice, 
 in we evt 
 
 bout it al 
 il course u 
 
 I want tej 
 
 ; how yo: 
 
 r the paiigi 
 
 w that sii: 
 
 id go ou (f 
 
 ome ; auil 
 Jl tell yoii 
 ^■, aud tel! 
 
 we boti, 
 
 3, and ex- 
 
 >us ! 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. 
 
 H<fflf THE SPANISH PRIEST MEETS WITH A STRANGE ADVENTURE. 
 
 i train which had been released by the Cavlists, weut on its 
 -vraf and after running about ten miles', came to a little town 
 
 leadily 
 litude. 
 
 dtli a 
 lin the 
 
 ise of 
 and 
 
 )utan 
 
 was 
 a 
 
 made, 
 
 during 
 
 which information was 
 
 ige 
 
 Hfii a long stay 
 
 req^vcd of so serious a character that it v as resolv^ed, for the 
 lent, at least, not to go any farther. In the first place, the 
 which had immediately preceded hail halted at the next 
 u bevoml, and this train cuuld not move until the other had 
 d ; but, in addition to this, there came reports of all sorts, 
 e etl'ect that the whole country was swarming with Carlists, 
 had occupied the lines of railroad and cut the telegraph 
 ^rii^. It was the latter circumstance that was most troublesome, 
 bum! it made it impossible to get any detiuite information. 
 "^.e end of it was, tliat the passengers had to shift for them- 
 , anil find shelter and occupation as best they could, until 
 sliuuld be able to go on to their destinations : of which 
 ers only two need be mentioned here, namely, Cajjtain 
 and the pi'iest. The former, having been thus rudely 
 ted from Katie, had no object in going any farther, and 
 ore was quite willing to remain in this place. But it soon 
 ed that he had plenty to do. He at once set forth to com- 
 ate with the civil and military authorities, in the hope of 
 iug assistance toward rescuing Katie from l\er captivity ; 
 uch was his zeal and energy, that before long he had 
 ed t!ie most earnest promises of assistance and co-operation 
 a!l to whom he applied. As for the priest aforesaid, he had 
 rent purpose, and that purpose did not lead him to make 
 fi'ort to procure lodgings. He refreshed himself with a 
 at the nearest hosteria, after which, girding up his loins, he 
 e place by the high-road. 
 
 road at first ran through the plain, where, on every side, 
 stretched away fields of brown grass, with flocks of sheep 
 ;oats. The attendants upon these were nowhere visible, and 
 ok of human life and action gave to the country an. in- 
 able air of solitude and desertion. In other I'espects, how- 
 there was everything which could gratify the eye and the 
 The land was fertile, the soil cultivated, the scenery beaiiti- 
 all trees — the mulberry and the poplar — arose in long lines ; 
 lid there the cactus stretched forth its thorny arms, and at 
 als there appeared the dark green of extensive olive-groves, 
 id the traveller there extended a wall of purple hills, and 
 liim arose the giant heights of the Pyrenees. Among these 
 road at length entered, and, winding along at the base of 
 hills, it ascended very gradually. 
 
 3—2 
 
36 
 
 A CASTLE LY SPA/X. 
 
 . I 
 
 Tlio priest walked onwai'd at a louf?, sliiigiu;,' pace, wliicli : 
 of the experienced pedestrian. For tiiree hours he kejit thi.s 
 being too intent upon his procuress, and uj)on his own thou.' 
 to pay much attention to the sceneiy, except so far as was net 
 for |)urposes of precaution. Save for this, the external fori;, 
 nature and the many beauties around him were disregard- 
 and at length, after three hours, he sat down to rest at a rock 
 the wayside. Sitting here, he drew forth from his pocket a % 
 used pipe, which he filled and lighted ; after which lie 
 smoking, and surveying, in a contemplative manner, the st 
 before him. 
 
 It was, in truth, a scene well worthy of contemplation. : 
 many a mile the eye of tlie beholder could rove over the co: 
 of the Ebro, and take in the pros|)ect of one of the fairest la: 
 in all the world. He had advanced high enough to overlook 
 valley, which lay behind him, with lines of hills in the dista: 
 while in front arose the mountains, dark in the heavy shade, 
 the west the country spread away until, in the far distant 
 ended in a realm of glory. For here the sun was sinking ii: 
 wide basin formed by a break in the lines of mountains, tilllL 
 all with fire and splendour ; and while the hollow between 
 hills was thus filled with flame, immediately above this therein 
 piled up vast masses of heavy strata clouds, of fantastic .sli 
 and intense blackness. Above these the sky grew clearer, 
 was still overlaid with thin streaks of cirrus clouds, which v 
 tinted with every hue of the rainbow, and spread over all 
 western heavens up to the zenith and beyond. 
 
 In that low mass of strata clouds which overhung the si;: 
 there was now a wild convulsion. A storm was raging tl • 
 too far away to be felt, but plainly visible. The fantastic sL: 
 were flung together in furious disorder ; through the coiif: 
 masses electric flashes shot forth ; sometimes in floods of '.'. 
 sometimes in straight lines of forked lightning, sometiiin 
 rounded lumps of suddenly revealed fire — the true bolts of .f 
 Toward the south the hills lay wrapped in haze and gloom, 
 in one part there was a heavy shower, where the rain strea:. 
 down in vertical lines. 
 
 The sun went down, leaving behind it a redder splendour 
 which all was glorified ; the river wound in molten gold . 
 trees were tipped with purple lustre ; the crests of the <. 
 tains took on aureoles of light. As the sun still descended,! 
 scene was slowly transformed ; the splendour lessened ; the cks 
 broke up into other forms ; the thick strata mass dissipated itjl 
 then came a golden haze over the wide west ; the moon rev4 
 itself over the head of Scorpio, with Antares beaming fro:^ 
 blight place in the sky. 
 
 The scenes shifted rapidly, and twilight deepened, until! 
 
A CASTLE IX SPALY. 
 
 37 
 
 , which ! 
 :ej)t this 
 11 thoiiL 
 was net 
 'ual fori:, 
 isregaid- 
 at a rock 
 )cket a w 
 lich he 
 ', the « 
 
 ation. . 
 tlie CO 
 fairest I 
 jverlook 
 ;he (list;.: 
 
 shade. 
 ' (listaiii.v 
 ukiuf;- iii! 
 ills, tilliL, 
 jetweeu 
 s there v 
 iastic sli. 
 
 clearer, 
 
 which V 
 over all 
 
 f tlie sii: 
 aging tt:| 
 tastic ski' 
 he coiifi:; 
 )ds of ^1 
 )metinK- 
 )lt3 of J 
 [ glooui,. 
 in streai- 
 
 )lendoiir, 
 Q gold. 
 ': the ii: 
 scended,! 
 . ; the clii 
 pated it*: 
 )on revc..| 
 ling fro:| 
 
 )uds made way for the moon, and, breaking up into tliin light 
 
 isses, swept away over the sky ; while the moon, assuming its 
 foper functions, looked mildly down, and bathed all the valley 
 
 a mellow lustre. 
 I After about half an hour's rest, the priest arose, put his pipe 
 
 his pocket, and resumed his long stride. Uj) the road he went, 
 fitlioiit Htop|)ing again, as though he had resolved to cross the 
 Kieiiees in that one night, and be over in France by morning : 
 
 whom it might be said, iu the words of the Chinese poet, 
 
 ' That young man wnlkec no cnn stop.' 
 
 Lnother hour brought him a good four miles farther on, and still 
 |e kept up the same pace. He now reached a place where the 
 xul took a somewhat sudden turn, and wound around a rocky 
 Projection on the hill-side. Here, as he turned, he came full 
 lj)ou a ligui'e that was walking in the o))posite direction. 
 f It w;us the figure of a woman ; and in that bright moonshine 
 It was easy to see that she was young, and graceful, and light, 
 lind elastic. Coming suddenly ujxin the priest as she did, at the 
 kuiu in the road, she was evidently quite tciritied. ller attitude 
 fas that of a stealthy fugitive ; and as she met him there was, 
 her sudden involuntary gesture, the a])pearauce of one who 
 i;i3 been captured by a pursuer. For an instant she recoiled iu 
 ui agony of terror, but then one glance at the costume of the 
 )xiest seemed to reassure her ; and then, clasping her hands, she 
 eaine nearer, and said, in tremulous tones : 
 ' Padre ! i)adre ! per I'amor de Dios soccoiie me 1' 
 The priest looked at her for a few moments in silence. Then 
 |Le spoke : 
 
 * Etes-vous Frangaise, mademoiselle V 
 The woman shook lier head. 
 
 * E ella Italiana V 
 Again she shook her head. 
 ' Siud sie Deutsch !' 
 
 Another shake of the head, and then she said : 
 ' Yo soy luglesa.' 
 
 The priest gave a long whistle. 
 
 ' English !' he cried ; ' English ! Then in future please be kind 
 enough to speak Englisli, for your Spanish — is— well, declined, 
 with thanks.' 
 
 At these words the woman started, and then, with an im- 
 controllable impulse, seized the hand of the jiriest in a convulsive 
 grasp. 
 
 ' Oh !' she cried, * are you really— really an Englishman ? Oh, 
 thank heaven ! thank heaven ! Then you will help me V 
 
 ' English V said the priest ; ' well, for the matter of that, I'm 
 au)' thing you please just now, iu this infernal country. I cer- 
 
 1, until] 
 
33 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA IX. 
 
 M^ 
 
 M 
 
 tainly do sppjik En^MiHh, but at the same time I prefer cjil, 
 myself what T am — namely, an American.' 
 
 This k)(|uacity of the priest made no im))ression upon ; 
 woman, who was absorbed now by her one idea of escape, 
 obtaininif lielp, of fli^dit. 
 
 'Oil, sir,' she continueil, 'can yon help me? Can T jjo on' 
 this road i Do you know what I can do / Will you tell me ; 
 
 ' Oh yes,' said the priest, ' I'll tell yon. I do not know w! 
 you can do. What can you do I You can read, perhaps, an ; 
 suppose you can ])lay the piano, and crocliet ; but I know \vl. 
 you cannot do — you cannot s])eak Spanish.' 
 
 These words were flpok<;n with the indifferent air of one \\. 
 is thinking of something else. 
 
 'Ah, sir,' said tlie woman, in a tone of anguish, 'don't inn 
 sit me ! I'm iu distress unspeakable. I've— I've lost my way, 
 
 She could scarcely speak from agitation. The priest was sik: 
 for a moment. Then he drew a long breath. 
 
 ' Lost your way V said he. ' Well, that is queer too. Y^y;, 
 way — and what way can that be in times like tliese, and hero i: 
 this country, and, above all, in this part of the country 1 Ar 
 you walking for a wager ? Are you going round the world iu. 
 nee-line ? Do you carry a portable canoe V 
 
 * I was in the diligence,' said the woman, uot choosing to uotii: 
 such ill-timed levity, 'and we were stopped — by the Carlist^- 
 and I escaped — and I'm trying to find my way to some safe plai: 
 — but I cannot — I cannot,' 
 
 ' H'm !' said the priest, ' tlfat is a coincidence too — just my owi ' : 
 case to a T. I've been captured by the Carlists too, and I'vr; 
 escaped, and I'm now making a bolt for a place of safety. Well, : 
 this does beat my grandmother, I must say !' 
 
 The lady was too full of her own troubles to notice the peculiar 
 expressions of the priest. She merely continued, as before, to 
 beg for help. 
 
 ' Oh, sir,' said she, ' do you know the way here ? and can you 
 help me V 
 
 ' Well,' said the priest, * I know some of it, I may say, but that 
 depends on what you mean by knowing it. But will you allow 
 me to ask you one or two questions ? Iu the first place, where 
 did you come from last V 
 
 * Last V said the lady ; ' the last place I came from was Bar- 
 celona.' 
 
 'When?' 
 ' Yesterday.' 
 
 ' You spoke of a diligence. You must Lave come from Barce- 
 lona by train.' 
 'Of course.' 
 ' Then that must have been the train that stopped over there.' 
 
A CASTLE LV SPALV. 
 
 39 
 
 ' Vcs ; the train stopped. I understood that it was not ^oing 
 1 any fartlier for a lon;^ time, for that the track was torn up. 
 ._ (lili<,a'nc'e was prepared for those p.issenirers who were auxious 
 to l;o on immediately, and I was most oa<,fer to ])roceed witliout 
 Iclay, so as to get to my home as soon as possible. 80, early 
 his morning, we left, and came, without any incident of any 
 :ind. until we reached a place about iive miles away. There wo 
 ivcrc stopped and robbed. I believe all the passengers were de- 
 [tained and held as prisoners— at least, I myself was. I wa3 
 [handed over to tlie care of a peasant woman, who took me to <a 
 (cottage. About two liours ago she came to me and told me that 
 1 nii,!J!ht go, and urged me to Hy at once. I could not under- 
 etand her very well, for I know very little Spanish indeed, but 
 I could see that she was sorry tor me, and oftere<l me this chance 
 ^of escape. It was also quite evident that she considered me in 
 great danger, and was frightened about me. I felt deei)ly grate- 
 ful, and offered her a gohl locket which had escaped the notice 
 of the robbers, l)«t she refused it. So then 1 started off. I've 
 come along the road ever since, and have seen no one except your- 
 self. And now, sir,' continued the lady, looking at the priest 
 with intense earnestness, ' can you help me ] Will you i Oh, 
 
 for the love of ' 
 
 Here the priest interrupted her. The lady had spoken in a 
 luw voice, which had a very mournful cadence, and besitles this, 
 there were signs of deep emotion in the tremulous tones and the 
 agitated manner. Iler tiight had been a long and a hurried one ; 
 tlie exertion had been severe ; her strength had been put forth 
 to the utmost ; she was on the verge of utter exhaustion. Every- 
 thing in her appearance, voice, and manner, combined to inspire 
 pity and sympathy. The good j^riest had seemed not unmoved 
 as she was speaking, and now he interrupted her, raising his 
 hand, and speaking in a very gentle voice. 
 
 * Ah, now,' said he, 'come — none of that ! Do you think me 
 a savage, that you must pray to me for mercy ? Help you !' he 
 repeated in stronger tones. * Ay, madame, that will I, and with 
 the last drop of my heai't's blood and to my life's end. There, 
 is that strong enough ? Help you !' — and he gave a short laugh 
 — 'that's good, too ! Why, what else have I been thinking of 
 ever since I met you ? What else can you suppose that I intend 
 to do ? .Isn't it enough for me to see your distress ? But come — 
 it isn't quite so safe as it might be, and enemies may be lurking 
 near. We must first find a place of retirement, where we can 
 decide on what is best to be done.' 
 
 The tones of the priest's voice were now totally different from 
 those which he had employed hitherto. These were harsh, dry, 
 indifferent,, almost mocking ; but now they were full of sincere 
 feeling and unmistakable truth. Their effect upon the lady was 
 
40 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPAIX. 
 
 ' H ill 
 
 \ t'lT lu.'ii'kfd ami stntii^'. Slie clusnod lior li;inils, Lowed h\ 
 head, and in her weakness was unable to bear up under th;- 
 new revulsion of fceliny ; so she buist into tears and stood tlioi 
 weepiiifr. 
 
 At this the priest was not a little embarrassed. For a nionu'ii'. 
 he seemed about to try to sixjthe her ; but he checked this im- 
 pulse and looked away, whistlinff softly to himself. After a few 
 moments he went on, speakiii",' in a ^'ontle voice : 
 
 * I've l)een goin^' along alone easily enough, but now, if you will 
 come with me, I shall have to make some eliangos in my plans. 
 You see, two cannot travel so easily as one ; and then you aie ;i 
 lady, and an English lady too, which iu these parts means a 
 wealthy foreigner— an object of plunder. You, as an Englisji 
 lady, run an amount of risk to which 1, as a Spanish priest, am 
 not at all exposed. >So 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 la<ly, who all along had seemed much fatigued, 11 1 
 began to give more evident signs of distress. The priest niai- 
 her take Ids arm : she did so, ami for a time was relieved. JI- 
 s ught to cheer her with encouraging woi'ds. She respondiri 
 nobly, and certainly made all the ellbrt in her power ; but ]\r. 
 ^trength had that day been too soi'ely tasked, and threatencil t 
 i«d her utterly. At last she sank to the ground, and sat their 
 while the priest waited patiently. 
 
 ' Courage !' said he. ' Cheer up ! We shall soon be there now 
 
 After a short rest the lady recovered a little, and made a liir 
 effort. They walked on as befoi'e, the lady holding the pri st. 
 armband moving forward by dint of desperate exertions, s 
 they went until at last there appeared immediately aluad a 
 massive tower, which seemed to ai'ise from behind some trees. 
 
 ' There it is,' said the priest. ' One more effort.' 
 
 But the lady could go no farther. She sank down on the| 
 ground once more, with something like a groan. 
 
 'I can go no farther,' said she in a faint voice. 
 
 The priest made no re])ly, but stood for some time in sileiic-: 
 watching her. It was evident that he hoped for another rally u; 
 her powers, but he was disappointed ; for the lady sat with liei »f| 
 head bowed down, trembling, weei)ing, and all unnerved. Titut 
 passed, and there was no revival of strength. 
 
 * Madame !' said the priest at length, in a harsh and constraiiici '^.^ 
 voice. At this the lady gave a sigh, and tried to raise herself, bui 
 without sugcess. After a useless effort she sank down again. 
 
 ( TV 
 
 Madame,' said the priest, * to stay here is out of the question, 
 We have not much farther to go ; the place of our destination is 
 not far off, and I am going to carry you there.' 
 
 *No,' said tlie lady, 'you must not. I — I ' 
 
 * Madame,' interrupted the other, * as a priest, it is my duty to 
 succour the distressed, and even as a man I should feel bound to 
 save you.' 
 
 ' It's too much for you,' said the lady faintly. ' Save yourself, 
 It's no matter — what— becomes of — of me.' , 
 
 ' Oh, it isn't, isn't it?' sr'd the priest in his dry est manner, 
 * Well, you will please remember that you and I are in the same 
 boat, and we must win or lose together. And so, as I don't 
 intend to be captured yet awhile, why, madame, with your ])or- 
 mission, and begging your pardon, I'll take the liberty of saving 
 you in my own way. At the same time, please remember that 
 it's not for your sake I'm doing this so much as for my own.' 
 
 What possible meaning there might be to these last words, the 
 
 j)riest I 
 there 
 ado, r; 
 was 
 excel lei 
 the cir| 
 have ' 
 grove 
 ea.iy pr 
 which 
 of a (\q\ 
 tlie botl 
 the cha| 
 towerr 
 rose u])! 
 
A CASTLE LV SPALY. 
 
 43 
 
 jiriest iHd not ex})l<iin, nor diil the lady understand. In f;n•^, 
 there was no time for exi)lanation. The priest, without any ir.oie 
 ado, raised the lady in liis arms and marched otl' with Ivr. He 
 was not a very large man, but lie was very niuscr.iar, and in 
 excellent training ; so he trudged on at a pace which, under all 
 the circumstances, was really wonderful. Fortunately he did not 
 have very far to carry his burden. Before lo'/g he came to a 
 grove of large trees, which stood wide a])art and admitted of an 
 easy passage. Traversing this, he at length reached a low tower, 
 which was in a half-ruinous condition. It stood upon the briidc 
 of a deep chasn,, the sides of which were densely wooded, while at 
 the bottom there was a brawling brook. Upon the other side of 
 the chasm appeared the outline of a stately castle, with Avails, and 
 towcrr^, -• • ''attlements, and keep, all plainly discernible as they 
 rose up in giant proportions. 
 
 CHArTER IX. 
 
 IN WHICH THE PRIEST .SEES A VISIOX, AND GOES IN SEARCH OV 
 
 A BREAKFAST. 
 
 The ])riest placed the lady on the ground near the truid< of a 
 fallen tree, against which she might lean, and then, turning away, 
 he drew a clasp-knife from his pt)cket, and began cutting armfuls 
 of brushwood and twigs oi shrubs. These he carried into tho 
 tower and spread over the floor with the skill of a practised haiul, 
 while the lady sat where he had left her, with l»er head bowed 
 down, taking no notice of anything, and seeming like one who was 
 quite prostrated in mind as well as in body. When at last the 
 priest's task was ended, he went to her a: id carried her inside tl e 
 tower. 
 
 ' Here,' said he, * is some brushwood. I'm sori-y that there 
 isn't anything better, but better is a stone couch with liberty than 
 a bed of down with captivity. Don't be worried or frighteneil. 
 If there is any danger, 111 sound the alarm in Zion and get you 
 off ill time.' 
 
 The lady murmured some inarticulate words, and the priest 
 then left her and went outside. He there spent some little time 
 in gathering some brush for himself, which he spread uj)ou the 
 grass, under the castle wall ; after which he seated himself upon 
 it, and pulling out his pipe, he tilled it and began to smoke. 
 Hitherto he had been too much preoccupied to pay any very close 
 attention to the woidd around ; but noAv, as he sat there, he 
 became aware oC sounds which arose apj)arently from the interior 
 of the great castle on the other side of the chasm. The sounds 
 did not startle him in the least, however, and he was evidently 
 
44 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 ' 11 
 
 Ml 
 
 prepared for something of this sort. Between this tower and ih 
 gveiit castle there intervened the deep chasm ; and though no 
 tloubt the two structures liad once been connected, yet all connec- 
 tion had long since been destroyed, and now there was no visihk' 
 way of passing from tlie one to the other. The priest, therefore, 
 felt as secure as though lie were miles away, and listened serenely 
 to the noises. There came to his ears sounds of singing, and 
 laughter, and revelry, with shouts and cries that rang out upon 
 the air of night. There seemed to be no small stir in the castle, 
 as though a multitude had gatl<ered there, and had given them- 
 selves up securely to general merriment. But all this trouble'l 
 not the priest one whit, for he calmly finished his pipe, and then, 
 laying it down, he disposed his limbs in a comfortable positioi), 
 still keeping a sitting posture, and in this attitude he fell asleep, 
 and sle])t the sleep of the ju.st. 
 
 Very early on the following morning our good priest opened 
 his eyes, and the first object that they rested upon was the lady, 
 ■who stood there full before him, and greeted him Avitli a geatlu 
 smile. The priest had not seen her very well on the previous 
 evening, and now, as he saw her face in full daylight, it seemed 
 different from that whicli bad met his view under the moonbeams. 
 The lady was of slender form, a trifle over the middle height, and 
 of marked dignity of bearing. Her face was perfectly beautiful 
 in the outline of its features, but this was as nothing when com- 
 pared with the refined and exf[uisite grace, the pt rfect breedini:, 
 the quick intelligence, and the womanly temlerness that were all 
 expressed in those noble lineaments. It was a face full of calm 
 self-possession, and gave indications of a great and gracious 
 nature, which could be at once loving and brave, and tender and 
 true. Her hair, which w^as very luxuriant, was closely bound up 
 in dark auburn masses ; her li])s were full of sweet sensitiveness ; 
 and thus she stood looking at bim with dark hazel eyes that 
 seemed to glow Avith feeling and intelligence, till the good priest 
 thought that never in all bis life had he seen anything half so fair, 
 Jn fact, so overcome was he that he sat staring at her for some 
 time without one word, and without giving any response what- 
 ever to the pkasant words of greeting which slie spoke. 
 
 ' I'm very sorry indeed,' said slie, as the ])riest still stared iu 
 silence at her, 'tliat I was such a trouble to you, after all your— 
 your kindness ; but the fact is, I was so wretchedly fatigued that 
 1 Was scarcely responsible for my actions. It was too selfish in 
 me ; but now I mean to make amends, and help you in every 
 possible way. Would you like me to do anything? Sha'n't 1 
 get breakfast V 
 
 She spoke these words with a smile, in which, however, there 
 was not a little sadness. There was nothing iu the words them- 
 selves beyond that painful consideration for others and forgetful- 
 
 1 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 '''^1^1 
 
 iiess of 
 
 "Mm 
 
 Imt th 
 
 ^^9 
 
 soft an 
 
 '^m 
 
 that fe 
 
 '■Wm 
 
 'Bn 
 
 "9 
 
 thing ' 
 
 \^m 
 
 •subiect 
 
 voice, : 
 'Ab 
 else. 
 
A CAS TLB IN SPALY. 
 
 45 
 
 uoss of self which the priest had observed in lier the iii<,dit before ; 
 l)iit the voice was a \vonderfui cue — a round, full contralto, yet 
 soft and low, with a certain mysteriously tremulous undertone 
 that fell with a thrill upon his ear. The ])riest started up. 
 
 ' Breakfast !' said he, with a short laui^h. ' That is the very 
 thing I was thinking of myself. I consider tliat an all-important 
 subject.' 
 
 ' It is certainly a serious matter,' said she. 
 
 ' And you propose to get it for me V 
 
 ' Yes,' said she, with a faint smile, * if I can.' 
 
 ' I really wish you would,' continued the priest, ' for it would 
 save me from a great responsibility ; for if you don't get it for 
 nie, hang me if I know where I can get any for myself.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ?' said she, 'Have we nothing to cat ?' 
 
 'Well, not so bad as thnt. I have a bit of a sandwich, I 
 believe, and you may have it.' 
 
 With this he produced from his pocket a tin sandwich case and 
 offered it to her. She refused. 
 
 ' If that is the last that you have,' said she, ' I can wait.' 
 
 'But you must eat il, so as to get back your strength.' 
 
 ' And what will you do V 
 
 ' (.)h, I'm an old hand at fasting. It's my business.' 
 
 'As priest, I su])pose ?' said the lady, with a smile that was 
 brighter, or rather less mournful, than any which the priest had 
 thus far seen on her melancholy face. 
 
 'Yes, as priest,' said the other dryly. 'And now will you 
 take it V 
 
 ' Do you ever think about yourself V asked the lady, in a low 
 voice, in which the thrill was more perceptible than usual. 
 
 'About myself ? Oh yes,' said he ; 'I never think of anything 
 else. My motto is to take care of Number One. It's only for 
 niy own sake that I'm anxious for you to eat ; but if you won't 
 take it all, why, you'll have to be content with half. You won't 
 refuse to share with me and take half V 
 
 'By no means. I sha'n't object to take the half, if you choose.' 
 
 ' Well,' said he, ' that's fair ; so let's begin our breakfast. 
 Would you mind sitting on that tree over there I' 
 
 He led the way to the fallen tree already mentioned, and the 
 two seated themselves. He tiien opened the tin case and drew 
 forth a few sandwiches. From these they made their frugal 
 rejjast. 
 
 ' You must cultivate patience,' said the priest, as he ate. ' I 
 know exactly what's in your mind. You want to be off. But, 
 according to the proverb, the more haste tiie less speed. Tell me 
 —would you rather be here or in the hands of the Carlists I' 
 
 ' Here.'^ 
 
 ' Well, I'm afraid if we move incautiously we may be seen and 
 
46 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ii : 
 
 captured by the Carlists. So before we start I propose to recon- 
 uoitre. Will you reuiaiu here V 
 'I will do whatever you direct.' 
 
 * You are very good aud sensible.' 
 
 ' Thanks ; but where do you propose to go ]' 
 
 * I'm goiurf to visit the castle over there.' 
 ' The castle V 
 
 * Yes. It is full of people. That they are Carlists I haven't a 
 doubt. I mean to visit them, aud find out how the land lies.' 
 
 ' But the danger is too great, is it not 1 May they not detain 
 you V 
 
 ' I must run the risk of that.' 
 
 * Was it your intention to go among the Carlists before you 
 met me V 
 
 ' Well, not exactly. I was on my way, aud that way might 
 have led among them.' 
 
 ' Are you running this risk for my sake V 
 
 ' Well, not particularly, although I have an eye to you in this 
 matter. My chief aim is, j ust now, to get something for dinner, 
 and after that to find out what is the safest direction for us to take.' 
 
 The lady sat in thoughtful silence for some time. 
 
 ' I am afraid,' saitl she, 'that you are incurring a terrible risk. 
 You are now out of danger ; why put yourself into it i Why 
 may we not fly now, or to-night ? I can fast for any length of time.' 
 
 ' The danger is,' said the priest, ' that we may both fall into the 
 hands of the very men we wish to avoid.' 
 
 ' But that is the very thing you are going to do.' 
 
 *I — Oh, I can go alone anywhere.' 
 
 'Ah, there it is !' said the lady bitterly. 'It is I who am a 
 drag on you. It is I who am getting you into danger. Yet why 
 not leave me i Tell me where the i-oad is : I will go back alone.' 
 
 'Oh, well,' said the priest, with his usual short laugh, 'as for 
 that, we may talk of it again. I'll tell you presently. It may 
 come to that, but I hope not. I am going to that castle all the 
 same. I've been there before, and without harm : I expect to 
 come back. But suppose I do not, how long will you wait here 
 for me V 
 
 ' As long as you say.' 
 
 ' Twenty-four hours 1' 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Very well. I do not think they will detain me, but it is best 
 to be prepared. Aud now, by way of preliminary, I will show 
 you how I can go over there. Remember, I have been here 
 before, and have become acquainted with some of the secrets of 
 this place. If you should be in danger, or if I should not come 
 back, you will be able to fly by the way which I will now show you.' 
 
 The priest arose and entered the tower, followed by the lady. 
 
 •J 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAlV. 
 
 47 
 
 jThe pavement was of stone : part of it was open, and some ruinous 
 ifitt'prf led into a cellar. Here they descended, and found them- 
 jselves in a place which had been excavated from the rock which 
 Ifornied three sides of the place. On the fourth was a wall, iu 
 hvhich was a wide gap that looked out upo . the chasm. It seemed 
 las though there had once been a bridge at this point leading over 
 to the ci^tle. 
 
 Here,' said the priest, * if you look out, you cannot imagine any 
 possibility of descent, but if you examine carefully you will per- 
 ceive a narrow ledge among the shrubbery. Go out on this, and 
 follow it along, and you will tind it growing wider aa it goes down, 
 [t will take you all the way to the bottom of this chasm, and 
 there you will find stepping-stones by which to cross the brook, 
 and on the opposite side a trail like this, which will lead you to 
 the top of the opposite ridge.' 
 
 'I don't think that I should feel inclined to try it,' said the 
 lady ; ' but I am glad, all the same, that I have a mode of retreat. 
 It makes one feel less desperate.' 
 ' Oh, you know, I hope to be back again.' 
 ' But what shall I do if you do not return ?' said the lady. 
 ' That is what troubles me,' said the priest. * To think of you 
 
 laking your escape alone ' 
 
 ' That is not what I meant,' said the lady. ' I referred to my 
 [>wu 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. 
 
 <rr 
 
70 
 
 .1 CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 * Oh, well,' siiid Harry, * it isn't the country, it's the people' 
 
 ' Do you thiuk they're re.ally Kik-kik-Carlists V 
 
 ' Well, yes. I iloii't see any reason Avhy they shouldn't be.' 
 
 'I was thinking that they might be bub-bub-bandits.' 
 
 ' AVell, there isn't any very great diiFereucc between the two, 
 
 so far as we are concerned.' 
 
 'But isn't there any law among the Kik-kik-Carlists ? Can't 
 
 we appeal to Did-did-Dou Carlos V 
 
 *0h yes, of course — if we could only get at him, and if lie 
 
 couhl only get at us ; but these two things are just what can't bo 
 
 done. And so I'm afraid we'll have to make up our minds to 
 
 pay tlie pi]ier.' 
 
 At this Itussell again gave a heavy groan. 
 
 W 
 
 can 
 
 'Don't be alarmed/ said Harry, in a soothing tone, 
 beat them down.' 
 
 'No,' moaned Russell, 'we can't do anything. And I've got 
 too much about me altogcthei'.' 
 
 ' You haven't carried any large sum of money with you, surely V 
 cried Harry. ' Why, man, you're mad !' 
 
 ' But I didn't think there'd be any danger on the railway,' said 
 Russell. 
 
 ' If your money is in bills of exchange you'll be riglit enough,' 
 said liarry. 
 
 Russell shook his head. 
 
 ' No,' said lie, ' it's worse than that.' 
 
 'Howf 
 
 * My money is in bub-bub-bonds— Spanish bub-bub-bonds.' 
 
 * Bonds !' repeated Harry. 
 
 'Yes,' groaned Russell — 'kik-kik-coupon bub-bub-bouds.' 
 
 'Coupon bonds ! Why, man, what in Heaven's name are you 
 doing with coupon bonds in this country V 
 
 ' Why, they're Spanish bonds, and I was taking them out of 
 the country to England.' 
 
 'Whew !' whistlid Harry. 'In how much?' 
 
 ' Thirty thousand pounds !' wailed Russell, in a voice of desp.ur. 
 
 Another prolonged whistle was the result of this information. 
 
 ' It's no use making it a secret to you,' continued Russell. ' 111 
 be searched, I suppose, and the bonds '11 be taken.' 
 
 ' I'll tell you what to do,' said Harry ; ' let me take care of them.' 
 
 Russell shook his head. 
 
 ' N-no ; you'll be searched too. They'll be no safer.' 
 
 ' Well, then, hide them in this room somewhere.' 
 
 ' I don't know wher^ to hide them,' said Russell dolefully ; 
 ' besides, we m.iy be taken to another room, and so it's no use 
 hiding them here. I've been thinking of sewing them up insiile 
 the lining of my coat, only I haven't any needle and thread to 
 sew with. Oh, if Mrs. Russell were here ! I didn't thiuk of 
 
 sup 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 this. I'd get her to stitch ihein inside my coat to-ninht. And 
 now I don't know what to do. If it weren't for tlie.se Ijond.s I 
 should feel safe enough. But the amount is so e-normous !' 
 ' Arc they registered V 
 
 * Oh no. I don't believe they register bonds in this miserable 
 country, or do anything but steal them,' groaned Russell. 'I 
 suppose they'll overhaul us all to-morrow.' 
 
 •Very likely.' 
 
 * Can you think of any way by which I can hide these bonds V 
 Harry shook bis head. At the same moment there occurred 
 
 to him what Ashby had told him about certain Spanish bonds. 
 If Ashby was right, then this must be the very money which 
 belonged to Katie, and whicji, according to Ashby, liussell was 
 trying to get liold of for himself. From this ])oint of view it 
 suddenly assumed an immense interest in his eyes, and drove 
 away the thought of every other thing. Even the lire was now 
 forgotten, and the bench was not desecrated by the knife. 
 
 'See here ; I'll tell you what to do,' said Harry, thoughtfully 
 and earnestly. * The very woi'st thing that you can do is to carry 
 all that money about witli you, on your own person, mind that. 
 You'll be searclied, of course. To stitch them in your clothes is 
 absurd. These people will examine every square inch of all your 
 clothes, including your shirt-collar, your ])ocket-handkerchief, 
 your silk hat, and your boots. They'd lind the sniidlest fragment 
 of a bit of paper, even if you had it hidden inside your boot- 
 laces. Now, I'll tell you what you'll have to do. You'll have to 
 get rid of that money of yours.' 
 
 ' Bub-bub-bub-but how ?' stammered lUissell, in fresh con- 
 sternation. 
 
 'How? Why, hide it.' 
 
 'Where?' 
 
 ' Somewhere about here — and soon too — before you go to sleep.' 
 
 * But suj)pose I am tit-tit-taken away, and don't come back again V 
 ' Well, in that case your only hope is to confide in me, and then 
 
 if you are taken away I shall perhaps be left. It's not likely 
 that both of us will be taken awaj^ from here. We shall perhaps 
 be sei)arated, and one will be left behind. In that case the one 
 who is left can watch over the treasure. Ijesides, in case we 
 should escape, we shall know where it is, and we may be able to 
 get the government to send a body of men here to hel | > us recover it.' 
 'Oh yes — the government!' said Ivussell bitterly. 'I know 
 the government here — only too well. The government will send 
 a body of men here to help us recover it, and then — why, then 
 of course they'll keep it all for themselves, every farthing. Yes, 
 sir, that's the Spanish style— every farthing. No ; don't talk to 
 me about the government. I'm bound to hold on to this, and 
 not trust to any of your beggarly Spanish governmeuta.' 
 
ft 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 li 
 
 li I 
 
 * But if you hold on to it you'll be sure to lose it,' said Ilany, 
 Ml j,a-eat iuipalicnoe. 
 
 ' I (lou't beliove they'll examiuo me at all,' said Eus.sell, sud- 
 denly changiii<f his tone. 
 
 ' They will,' i)ersiste(l Harry, ' as sure as you're alive, and that 
 too before this time to-morrow. In that case you'll lose every 
 penny of the thirty thousand pounds.' 
 
 (' And of course,' thought Harry, ' it'll be poor little Katif'.s 
 lob3 ; and all through the infernal obstinacy of this pig-headed 
 tailor !') 
 
 ' Oil, well. I'll think it over,' said Russell, cautiously avoiding 
 any further discussion. 
 
 ' You won't have much time for that/ urgeJ Harry. 
 
 * Oh yes, I will — plenty of time. I'll have all night, for I won't 
 sleep a wink, and I shall have nothing else to do but to think 
 over this.' 
 
 This was droned out in a tone of utter despair. 
 
 Harry sjjent some more time in trying to change Eussell's 
 mind, but in vain ; and at length he gave uj), thinking that he 
 would have a better chance in the morning. Besides, he was 
 beginning to feel sleei)y, and his arguments were growing some- 
 what incoherent ; so he Hung himself on the rude couch just as 
 he was, ' all standing,' and in a few minutes was sound asleep. 
 
 Kussell sat motionless for some time, until at length the heavy 
 breathing of his companion showed tliat he was asleep. Upon 
 this he rose, and went ou tiptoe softly over to Harry's bed, and 
 tried in various ways to see whether the sleep was false or real. 
 Having assured himself that it was real, he took up the torch 
 and began to survey the apartment more closely. Already, while 
 talking with Harry, his eyes had narrowly scanned every corner 
 of the room, and no i)lace had apju^'.red which could attord the 
 slightest chance of concealment. From the very lirst he had 
 tl'.ought of the stone pavement of the lloor ; but now, ou exami- 
 nation, this proved to be far too ponderous to be moved by any 
 force that he could command. Thus, after liaviug traversed the 
 wliole room, he reached the tireplace. 
 
 This, as has been saitl, was of gigantic dimensions, being in- 
 tended to hold enough wood to heat this vast apartment. Here 
 among the mountains, inside this stone castle, the cold was some- 
 times severe, and the builders of the castle had in this way made 
 provision for the comfort of its occupants. To this chimney 
 Russell now turned his attention, in the hope that something 
 might present itself here which could be used as a place of con- 
 cealment. So he walked stealthily and noiselessly toward it, auil 
 ou reading it stood surveying its huge dimensions in great 
 astonishment. Such chimneys may stid be seen in many an old 
 castle or palace in the north of Europe, though less frequent in 
 
d CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 7} 
 
 the castles of Spain. This one Avas deep and wide and high, a;;d 
 our friend lluasell coukl easily enter it without stooi)in,ijf. 
 
 lie entered thus the great lirephiceaud looked around, holding 
 his torch so as to light n\) the interior, Uelow, there was the 
 pavement of stone, which seemed solid and immovable. Above, 
 the chimney arose far on high, and through the wide opening the 
 sky overhead was plainly visible, with its glittering stars. 
 
 Now, as liussell stood peering about, he noticed something in 
 the construction of the chimney which struck him as rather 
 peculiar, anil this was several stones on the left side, which ])ro- 
 jected from the wall and were placed one above another. The 
 arrangement was so singular that it at once arrested his attention, 
 and being iu search of a hiding-place for his treasure, he could 
 not avoid examining it further wiLli keener interest. This arrange- 
 ment of the stones one above auothor was suggestive of clindjing. 
 They seemed intended for steps, and he therefoi'e ])eered ui)ward 
 more curiously, to see how far these steps continued and what 
 was the end. Looking thus upward, he noticed on one side wdiat 
 seemed like a niche in the chimney wall. It was so formed that 
 it was not visible unless one were standing dee)) inside the 
 chimney anil looking up for it, and it seemed to be deep and 
 spacious. No sooner had ho caught sight of this niche than ho 
 determined to inve;-;tigate it farther. For a few moments he 
 ))aused to see wdiether Harry was still asleep or not, and then, 
 being aatistied on this ])oint, he began to clindj u[). 80 nicely 
 Avcre the stones adjusted that this was easy even to an inactive 
 aud heavy man like him, and after ascending three steps he stood 
 and peered into the niche. It seemed (piite deep. He could not 
 see any end to it or any terminating wall. What the ilesign of 
 it was he could not imagine. He saw, however, that it alfoided 
 an admirable ])laee of concealment for his treasure, ami he deter- 
 mined at once to avail himself of it. Here he thought it would 
 be secure from discovery, aud it might remain here undetected 
 and unharmed for any length of time. As for lire, it was not 
 likely that the chimney was ever used ; but even if it were, 
 there was scarcely any possibility that the ilames could allecv 
 anything in this deep niche. 
 
 Kussell now took from his pocket a bulky parcel, and leaning 
 far inside the niche, he laid it carefully down. Then he held up 
 the torch, and allowed its light to fall into the niche, so as to see 
 that all Avas secure ; after which, feeling fully satislied with his 
 work, aud experiencing a great sense of relief, he descended from 
 his perch. Shortly after he extinguished the torch, and then, 
 stietching himself out on the bed beside Harry, he resigned him- 
 self to oblivion. 
 
74 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALV. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH RUSSELL UNDEECOES AN EXAMINATION. 
 
 Early on tlie following morning, Russell was roiiseJ from sleep 
 by a messenger, who made a peremptory demand for him to rise 
 and follow. Harry exi)lained that he was wanted by the Carli.^t 
 chief for examination, and reproached hin for not having con- 
 cealed the bonds the previous night ; at wdiich reproachful words 
 Russell showed no signs of dejection, as Harry had expected, hut 
 on the contrary, to his amazement, seemed to have npon his face 
 a slight air of triumph, regarding him with a self-satistied smile 
 and a cunning leer which puzzled him greatly. Thl'3 strange ami 
 unexpected change in Russell, from terror and despair to peace 
 of mind and jocularity, was a puzzle over which Harry racked 
 his brains for some time, but to no purpose. 
 
 Meanwhile Russell was led away. He didn't take up any time 
 with his toilet, for the unfortunate man saw nothing with which 
 he could even wash his face. However, he made no complai'it, 
 and for a very good reason, since he could not speak a word of 
 Spanish ; and, moreover, lie still felt so joyful over his conceid- 
 ment of the treasure, that he was able to bear with considerable 
 equanimity all the lesser ills of life. 
 
 In a few miiuites he found himself ushered into the presence 
 of the Carlist chief. The latter was seated upon a chest, over 
 which some rugs were spread. Another chest was also there, 
 u])on which he signed to Russell to be seated. 
 
 ' Ye doesn't spake Spanish V said the chief. 
 
 At these words Russell started and stared in surprise. The 
 words were English, with an accent that was not altogether uu- 
 familiar. It seemed a good omen. 
 
 * Do you fipeak English V he exclaimed. 
 
 ' A throifle,' said the chief. ' I had a frind that learned me a 
 few sintincis av it ; so I doesn't moiud spakin it, as it'll be more 
 convaynient for both av us. Ye must know, thin, that, in the 
 first place, I lamint the uecessichood that compils me to arrest 
 the loikes av you, but I've got arders from me military shupariors, 
 an' I've got to obey thim, so I have. It's no use protistin, fur 
 I'm only an agint. So I'd loike yez to be honest wid me, an' I'll 
 be the same wid you.' 
 
 ' Why, you speak English first-rate — in fact, splendid !' said 
 the delighted Russell. ' I never heard a foreigner speak it so 
 well before.' 
 
 ' Sure an' it's aisy enough,' said the chief ; ' as aisy as dhrinkiii', 
 whin ye have practice. I've got a farm acci;;'^, • •/ ccorse, but 
 that's nayther here nor there.' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 I 3 
 
 Ptiisscll tliouglit tliat his accent had a little smack of Irish 
 iiijout it, aud wondered whether all Spaniards spoke Engiish like 
 that. 
 
 * Ye'll excuse me,' said the chief, ' if I have to ax you a few 
 throiflin interrogatious for farrum's sake. I'll now begiu. What 
 is your name V 
 
 ' llussell.' 
 
 'Enssell— ah! What profession ?' 
 
 'A gentleman,' said Russell, somewhat pompously. 
 
 * A gintleraan, eh ; an' ye live on yer own money T 
 
 *0f course.' 
 'That's right,' 
 
 said the chief, with deep satisfaction. ' It's 
 meself that's the pi'oud man this day to meet wid the loikes av 
 you that's got an indepindint fartune, an' can call his sowl his 
 own. An' have yez been long in Spain, tliir ? 
 
 ' No, only a couple of months.' 
 
 * Thravellin' for plisure, av coorse,' insinuated the chief. 
 
 'Yes; I wanted to take a run through the Continent,' said 
 Enssell, in a grandiose way, as though the ' Continent ' was some- 
 thing belonging to him ; 'and I'm also bringing homo with me a 
 ward of mine— Miss ^Vestlotorn.' 
 
 'Ah! an' so the young lady is a ward av yours ? I thought 
 she was your daughter.' 
 
 ' No., she's my ward.' 
 
 ' Is she rich V 
 
 ' Well, sir, she's comfortable ; she's worth about fifty thousand 
 ])Ouuds sterling. Now I don't call that rich ; I only call it com- 
 fortable.' 
 
 ' An' what do yez call rich ?' asked the chief, in a tender voice, 
 full of affectionate interest. 
 
 'Well, a couple of hundred thousand pounds or so. You see, 
 when I was worth fifty thousand I thought I was somebody, but 
 I soon learned how paltry an amount that is. No, sir ; two 
 hundred thousand pounds are necessary to make a rich man, aud 
 not a })enny less, sir — not a penny, sir.' 
 
 'Thinrs me own sintimiuts intirely,' said tlie chief; 'that 
 shuits me, so it does. I saw by the cut av yez that ye must be a 
 millionnaire at laste — so I did.' 
 
 ' A millio/maire !' said Russell, with affected modest}^ ' Well, 
 you know, in England that's a big word ; but I supjwse here iu 
 ►Spain, or anywhere on the Continent, I might be called one.' 
 
 ' I suppose,' said the chief, after a pause, ' that ye've got an 
 ixtinsive acquaintiuce wid the nobility an' gintry an' all thini 
 fellers f 
 
 ' Yes,' said Russell, ' I have ; and not in England only, but 
 throughout the Continent. Not that I th'.ik much of the Conti- 
 nental nobility. Between you and me, I thi. :k f ie;''re a beggarly lot.' 
 
76 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAxN, 
 
 * Tlu-uc for you,' siiid the chief. ' Tliiiii'^ mo owu sinlimiuts.' 
 
 * Why, sir,' continued Russell, who evidently thou<,dit he was 
 making ;i deep impression, and so went ou all the more in his vaiii- 
 glorious boastings, ' some of tliese here Continental uoliility ain't 
 worth a brass farthing. Why, sir, there's lots of respectable English 
 merchants — tailors, for instance— and other (piiet, unassuniiii;^r 
 gentlemen, who could buy out these Continental nobles, out and 
 out, over and over again.' 
 
 'Divil a doubt av that same,' said the chief. ' Yo know how 
 to ixpriss yourself wid very shuitable sintiniints. I'd like to 
 know more of you. 1 suppose ye've got a pass})ort V 
 
 'A ])assport ^' said Eusscll. 'Well, yes, I believe I did get 
 one ;' and fumbling in his pocket, he succeeded in bringing t'^ 
 light that imj^ortaut document. This the chief took, and, with- 
 out opening it, put it in his own pocket. 
 
 ' I'll take a Ink at it prisintly,' said ho. ' Perhaps ye can tc!l 
 me about your friud, the young man that's wid yez. Is lie yer 
 soji V 
 
 ' Sou ? Oh no ; but he's a doosed fine young feller. Ilia 
 name's llivers.' 
 
 ' Is he rich r 
 
 ' Well, he's ])retty comfortable, I think. He's iu the wine and 
 fruit business, and has an agency at Barcelona.' 
 
 ' Sure an' it's mcself that's glad to hear that same,' said the 
 chief. 'An' can ye tell me anything about that other young mau 
 that was shtrivin' to join yer i)arty P 
 
 ' That fellow — his name's Ashby.' 
 
 * Ashby, is it V 
 
 * Yes, and the greatest scoundrel that ever lived — a miserable 
 fortune-hui^ter, trying to inveigle my ward into a maii'inge, 1 
 came here barely in time to save her. And the only object tlu; 
 infernal scoundrel has now in sneaking after me is to try and i^vX 
 hold of her and get lu.r from me, Lut he'll iind he's got pretty 
 tough work before him. He's got me to deal with this time.' 
 
 ' Is the young gyerrul fond av him T asked the chief, iu a tone 
 of deep anxiety. 
 
 ' She i Foiid of him i Pooh ! Nonsense ! She's like all 
 girls— likes to have attentions paid her, that's all ; and so this 
 1)001 fool thought she would marry him. Why^, the man's aii 
 ass ! IJut I guess he's had enough of chasing her by this tiiiio. 
 V>y Jove ! there's some satisfactioi, after all, in being caught this 
 way, since he's caught too.' 
 
 Some further conversation followed of the same kind. Eussell 
 continued to indulge iu a strain of self-gloritication, and the chief 
 to ask him questions. By yielding to his silly vanity, EusscU 
 was preparing the way for results which he little expectoil. 
 Little did he dream of what was soon to disclose itself. He 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALX. 
 
 77 
 
 ell 
 ki 
 ell 
 
 leu. 
 
 Ille 
 
 tliouglit lli.'it ho w.'is inipres.siii^ij the iiiiiid of tlie Caili.^t cliirf 
 vith ideas of the f^Toiitiiess, i^^nindeiu', ])()\vor, wcultii, and ylory 
 of the colebruted iJiisscll wlioiu ho liacl ruatlo his ))ii.soiior, and 
 lioped iu this way to overhaul liis captor, so as to suciiro ,<f(){jd 
 treiitmeut, or oven to terrify him into lettin*,' liini r^o. JIo littlo 
 knew that the cliief regarded him merely as a birtl to Ijo plucked. 
 In his eyes, tlie more the feathers the greater tlie yield. 'J'ho 
 moment the chief found that his prisoner professed to ho a 
 millionaire, that moment the fate of Russell and liis party wus 
 sealed. Tlie efFect ujjou the chief was already manifest in part, 
 for every moment ho grew more courteous in his manner. 
 
 'Sure it's meself,' said lie at length, ' that's bothered about the 
 acconuuodatiojis yo have. It's a cowld, damp room that, an' no 
 furniture at all, at all.' 
 
 * Yes,' said llussell, ' it is rathei' rough ; and for a man tliat's 
 accustomed to higli living and luxurious surroundings it's very 
 had. I'm dreadful afraid of rheumati/.' 
 
 ' Don't spake another word about it,' said the chief briskly. 
 ' I'll fmd ye another room where ye'U be as comfortable as the 
 Quane av England. Ye'll have as good a l)od as the best.' 
 
 This sudden oirer startled Iiussoll and excited dreadful appre- 
 lienrsions. What would become of his bonds ? lie hastened now to 
 modify his last words. 
 
 ' Uh, well,' said lie, ' for that matter, you needn't trouble your- 
 self. I dare say I shall do very well where I am.' 
 
 ' Do very well, is it i What ! an' you wid the rheumati/, ! Sure 
 to glory and ye'll not do anything av the kind. I'll get yez 
 auothor room v/here ye'll be wan-urn.' 
 
 ' Oh, but,' said Eussell, in deep uneasiness, ' I like that room, I 
 do, really. I like the view and the — the — the ventilation. It's 
 splendid — in fact, it's the finest room to sleep in I ever saw. If 
 you could only let me have a bed to myself ' 
 
 ' A bed to yerself ? Sure an' that's jist what I'm going to give 
 ye— a bed to yerself altogether an' a room too ; an' so ye'U have 
 comfort, an' warrumth, an' solichood all co!nboiued.' 
 
 ' But, really/ persisted Eussell, ' my dear sir, all that is (piite 
 unnecessary.' 
 
 ' Not a bit av it, Ye'll have the best ; an' the room'll be yours 
 at onct, so it will ; an' ye'll not go back to bed again in that 
 frozen hole.' 
 
 ' But I assure — I assure you,' persisted Russell most earnestly, 
 'it's a noble room — a comfortable room— a splendid room.' 
 
 ' Oh. sure ye're too modest, po yo are,' said the chief. ' But 
 uivir ye moind— lave it all to me. Ill fix it for ye.' 
 
 Russell was in deep dejection and anxiety, yet he felt afraid to 
 press the matter too eagerly. To bo taken away from the vicinity 
 of his treasure was indeed a crushing blow, yet he dared not 
 
78 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN, 
 
 object too strongly, lest the chief iiiight suspect somethiug. So 
 he could only submit with the best f,'race possible under the cir- 
 cumstances, and find faint consolation in the thought that tlio 
 treasure was at least secure. After a brief silence the chief 
 resumed : 
 
 ' It's pained I am, so I am, to trouble a gintleman av fartune, 
 but I'm undher the oujjlisiut naycissichood av subjictin' ye to a 
 further exann'nation. It's a mite onplisintat iirst, but it's uothiu' 
 whin yer used to it.' 
 
 ' Another examination !' repeated Russell, with no little un- 
 easiness. ' What is that V 
 
 ' Oh, it's only an examination av yer apparel, yer clothes, bit 
 by bit.' 
 
 ' My clothes ?' 
 
 ' Yes — to gyard against anythin' beiu' coucailed about ye.' 
 
 ' But I have nothing concealed, on my honour !' 
 
 At this the chief waved his h.-uids deprecatingly. 
 
 ' Hush !' said he. ' Whisht, will yo ! don't I know it ? bcgovra 
 nicself does. It's all a mere farrum. It's a laygal inactmint that 
 I've got to follow. Discipline must be kept up. Sure an' if I 
 didn't obey the law meself iirst an' foremost, me own mind 'udall 
 revolt against me, an' thin where'd 1 be \ But it'll not be any- 
 thin'. Sure to glory, many's the tine man I've shtripped, an' him 
 none the worse for it. So go ahead, fool, an' the sooner ye begin, 
 the sooner it'll be over.' 
 
 ' I — I — don't see — I — I — don't know ' stammered Kusscll. 
 
 ' Arrah, sure to glory, it's as aisy as wink. Begin where ye are.' 
 
 ' What, here !' cried Eussell aghast. 
 
 'Yis.' 
 
 ' Undress here ?' 
 
 ' Av coorse.' 
 
 ' But — but — mayn't I have a private room ! 
 
 ' But ye mayn't, for ye moiglit consale sometluu'. Ye've got to 
 ondress before the examinin' committee — that's me. Sometimes 
 it's done in the presence av a committee av the whole — that's tlie 
 whole regiment av us ; but this time, out av jue respect for you au' 
 considherations av decarrum, I've farrumed a committee av one.' 
 
 ' But what other clothes may I put on ?' asked llussell ruefully. 
 
 ' Sure an' I've got a tine shuit for ye.' 
 
 ' I don't see any.' 
 
 ' Oh, they're handy enough to here : they're in the next room, 
 quite couvaynient, an' I'll let ye have thim afther ye get these oil'.' 
 
 Russell stood still in deep gloom and despondency. All liia 
 finest feelings were outraged beyond description at this proposal. 
 The chief, however, sat calm and smiling, as though quite uu- 
 conscious of any evil intent. 
 
 ' Come," said' he ' hurry up !' 
 
 Tl 
 It w 
 
 liis c 
 to ba 
 
 •c 
 
 iiiinu 
 .'iloue 
 tliini 
 'Aj 
 
 iiothii 
 
 it on t 
 wIjo, 
 iil)un 
 Mas til 
 more ii 
 'Con 
 val'able 
 -I've 
 ^vay th 
 Mallets i 
 'But 
 So 3'( 
 I won Id 1 
 aiiythin' 
 see, I w£ 
 marest i 
 between 
 ye know 
 %uish I 
 pocket, 0] 
 it, an' lVi\ 
 J sconun 
 tliat kind 
 it. An' so 
 au' over y 
 got, au' V 
 
 iJeecIn't sa' 
 to say. \ 
 
 I'm coutin 
 it's mine, j 
 'Spain. Tl 
 ^'e owns t] 
 tliim up oi 
 coorse ye ct 
 At this i 
 
A CAS TLB LV SPA/X. 
 
 79 
 
 There was no help for it. IL^ was clearly in thi.s man's [)ow'or. 
 It was a dreadful thought, yet I'o had to obey. tSo he took otl' 
 his cravat. This he did slowly aud solemnly, an though preparing 
 to bare his neck for the axe of the executioner. 
 
 'Come, make haste,' said the chief. 'I've only got a few 
 minutes to spare ; an' if ye can't change yer clothes before me 
 alone, why, I'll have to go oil", au thin ye'U have lialf-a-dozen av 
 tliim uj) here at ye.' 
 
 ' Ami must I (' moaned the unhappy man. 
 
 ' Av coorse,' said the chief. ' Au' w hat in it all 1 Sure it's 
 nothin' at all at all, so it isn't.' 
 
 ilussell gave a heavy sigh, and then taking oH'his eual he laid 
 it on the lloor. Then he cast an appealing glance at the chief, 
 who, however, only responded with an impatient gesture. There- 
 upun Ivussell took oit' his waistcoat. Another appealing glance 
 was then thrown at the chief, who only res})ouded by a gesture 
 more impatient than before. 
 
 'Come,' said he, * be quick ! \'e see, ye may have no end av 
 val'able dockymints stitched in between the lining av yer clothes 
 —I've often knowed that same. Begorra, we get more in that 
 way that we find stitched in the clothes, than we do from the 
 wallets an' the opin conthributious.' 
 
 ' But I haven't anything stitched between my clothes.' 
 So ye say, an' so I'm bound to believe,' said the chief. ' Sure 
 I wouldn't for the worruld be afther hintin' that ye iver spake 
 .luythin' but the truth. Howandiver, I'll tell ye somethin'. Ye 
 see, I was standin' at the dure av yer room last night by the 
 marest accidint, an' I happened to overhear a confabulation 
 between you an' Eivers. An' ye know what ye towld him, aud 
 ye know what he said to you. Ye said somethin' about havin' 
 Spanish bonds — to the chune av thirty thousand pounds — in yer 
 pocket, or about ye somewhere, an' ye wanted some place to hide 
 it, au' Eivers advised ye to have it stitched in yer clothes. Now, 
 I scorrun avesdhroppin', so I does, but whin infarrumation av 
 that kind comes free to yer ears, ye're bound to get the good av 
 it. An' so I'm goiu' to instichoot an investigation over yer clothes, 
 au' over yer room, an' over yer thrunks, an' over everythin' ye've 
 got, au' I'm not goin' to rist till I've got thim bonds. Oh, ye 
 iieeciu't say any thin' — I can see it all in yer face. There's nothiu' 
 to say. I don't expect ye to own up an' hand over the money. 
 I'm coutint to hunt it up meself— that is, for the prisint. Y^e see, 
 it's mine, for it belongs to his B'yal Majesty Carlos, King av 
 Spain. The bonds are issued by Spain, an' as he is King av Spain, 
 he owns thim bonds. If ye was a native Spaniard, ye'd give 
 thim up out av pure loyalty, but as ye're a farr'ner, why, av 
 coorse ye can't be ixpicted to deny yerself to such an ixtint.' 
 
 At this astounding disclosure Kussell was struck dumb. So, 
 
So 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 tlioii, liis secret \\w bi'trayed. mid in the ino.st duiiijerout quarter, 
 .111(1, \voi'.st of all, by liis own fully I Once or twice he was al)oiit 
 to .spi'alc, l)iit tliL" cliii'f elit'cked liiiii, and he himself was only loo 
 well aware of the utter futility of any ilenial or of any attempt 
 to explain away what tlu^ chief had ovt-rheai'd. Only one ccii- 
 Hoiatiou now remained, and that was the hope that the chief 
 mi^dit not lind it. The place in which lie had hidtlen the bonds 
 seemed to him to be very much out of the way of an ordinary 
 search, and not at all likt'ly to be explored l)y anyone. 
 
 At len<;th IJussell had llnished his task, and had divested hiiu- 
 Belf of (iverythin^i,', his remorseless captor insistin.i,' on liis leavinif 
 iiolhiny ; ami 8o he stood shivering and cronehini/ on the stone 
 floor. 
 
 ' Now,' said the cliief, 'walk in thei-e. I'll follow.' 
 
 lU- pointed to a ])assage-way on the left, which led to an aprnt- 
 meiit beyond. At his oesturo Hussell slunk away in that directii)ii, 
 while the chief, gathering all the clothes up in a bundle, followed. 
 On reaching the apartment, Russell saw some garments lyiiii,' 
 spread out on a bench. They were (juite neM', ami consisted of a 
 military uniform profusely decorated with gold-lace. Everythiug 
 was there complete. 
 
 'There,' said the chief, 'thim clothes belonged to a frind av 
 mine whoj^e acquaintince I made a month .ago. He left these 
 here an' wint aw.ay in another sliuit, just as ye'U lave yer clotlies 
 an' go away, .'is I thrust, in these. Put thim on now, as soon as 
 ye loike. Ye'll iind thim a fine lit, an' they're au excelliut 
 mat.ayrial. The frind that left thim was a giniral oHicer, and be 
 the same tokin that same man swore more, an' faster, an' louder, 
 an' deei)er than any man I iver met with afoi'e or since.' 
 
 While the atl'able chief was thus talking, Russell proceeded to 
 array himself in the general's uniform. Everything was there 
 eom])lete, from top to toe, anil everything was of the very best 
 quality— richest gold lace, glittering epaulettes, stripes and baiuls 
 that dazzled the eye, buttons and chains of splendour indescrib- 
 able, hat with gorgeous plumage, sword of magnificent decor.ation, 
 attached to a belt thiit a king might choose to wear. All these 
 delighted the soul of Russell, but not least of all the cloth, whose 
 softness and exquisite fineness appealed to his professional feel- 
 ings, and caused his fingers to wander lovingly over the costly 
 fabric. 
 
 Soon lie had completed the task of dressing himself, and once 
 more stood erect in all the dignity of manhood. 
 
 ' liegorra !' s.aid the chief, ' ye'd ought to be grateful to me for 
 niakin' ye put ou thmi clothes. Ye look loike a commandher-iii- 
 chafe, so ye do — loike the Juke av "Wellington himself. The 
 clothes lit ye loike a glove. I niver saw a betther fit — niver. 
 Ye must put ou yer sword an' belt, so as to give a finish to it all,' 
 
 and w 
 
 JllISSC, 
 
 waist. 
 
 Ilitll NO 
 
 the wo 
 The 
 wju'cli 
 under ( 
 'It'll 
 'Wh 
 'Siu', 
 'Oiii'ra 
 but in 
 soinewl 
 I've doi 
 •My one 
 .■i,;'''iiii. 
 er;iyativ( 
 on tliim 
 hope ye' 
 t.'tko my 
 Til spin( 
 cxanuue 
 yo haven 
 ^\'itii t 
 Iiim. 
 
 That sam 
 written m 
 t'uglish ; 
 
 * 2716 Ki 
 this evenm 
 
 It was w 
 
 messenger ^ 
 
A CASTLl- IX SPA IX. 
 
 8i 
 
 ;iii(l witli these wordu ho handed ilii.ssoll tho Vi-auoii of war, 
 Jtiisst'll took it with evident pleasure and fastened it al>out \\\a 
 waist. 'J'hc cliii'f made liini wali< up and down, ;\n<l con\])linuMit(!d. 
 Iiim so Htron,i,dy tiiat tho prisoner in his new delight almost forgot 
 tlie woes of captivity. 
 
 Tlie chief now ])re))arcd to retire. Pointiiif,' lo Tvussell's clothoa, 
 which he had ke|)t all the time rolled w\^ m a bundle tucUed 
 under one arm, ho shook his head meditatively, and said : 
 
 ' It'll be a lont,' job I'll bo havin' wid these.' 
 
 ' Why so /' asked l^issell. 
 
 'Sure it's tho examiuin' that I've rjot to do,' said tlip chief. 
 Tlin'rally wo oxamino thim by stickin' pins through every part, 
 but in yor case there's thirty thousand ])ounds stowed away 
 somewhere, an' I'm goin' mesolf to rip every stitch apart. Afthev 
 I've done wid my search thro' thim clothes, it isn't loikoly that 
 any one in this castle '11 ever bo loikely to put thim together 
 a,L,'ain. To do tliat same 'ud nado a in-otissional tailor wid a 
 crayative janiu.'-,^ so it would. An' so, I say, yo'll have to look 
 on tliim gin'ral's clothes ,ns yer own ; an' wlnn ye get free, as I 
 hope ye'U be soon, yo may wear thim away homo wid ye, an' 
 take uiy blessin' wid _yc. Moreover, yo'll have to keep this room. 
 I'll spind this day in examitiin' yer clothes, an' to-morrow I'll 
 examine the other room. The bonds '11 kajie till then, as I know 
 ye haven't to wid Eivers any thin' about what ye done wid thim.' 
 
 "With these words the chief retired, and locked tlie door after 
 liim. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 HOW RUSSELL HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH A MERRY MONARCH. 
 
 That same evening Russell was astonished at receiving a fairly 
 written note, which when opened contained the following in 
 
 English : 
 
 \The King ivill he (iraciomly jyfccised to receive Lord ItWseU 
 this evening at seven o'cloch.* 
 
 It was written on simple note-paper, and bore no date. The 
 messenger who brought it handed it in, and departed without 
 saying a word. 
 
 On reading this note, Russell was completely bewildered. Who, 
 lie thought, is the King \ Who is Lord Russell I A prolonged 
 meditation over this could throw no particular light upon it, and 
 at length he was forced to conclude that he himself was taken for 
 Lord John Russell, that famous English statesman whose name 
 is known over the civilized world. It was a mistake, yet, as he 
 
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 A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 conrpliicently tlion<iht, nut, iiftor all, an unnatural one. By loiii^r 
 familiarity with the British aristocracy (in the capacity of tailor) 
 he had ijerha])s unconsciously aciiuired iheir lofty sentiments and 
 caught up their aristocratic tone and bearing. In person lie ft'lt 
 that he had rather the advantage of Lord John. His name had, of 
 course, something to do with the mistake. All these things had 
 combined to give his captors the impression that he was a British 
 peer. 
 
 But who was ' the King V The Queen of Sj^ain would be the 
 ex-Queen ; the last King of Spain was now the ex-King Amadeus ; 
 but ' the King'— who was he ? At length it llashed upon Eussoll 
 that ' the King ' could mean no other than the celebrated person- 
 age who claimed for himself that title, and who was known to 
 the world as Don Carlos. This, then, was the illustrious jjcrsou- 
 age with whom he was shortly to have an interview. 
 
 It must be confessed that, in spite of his long association with 
 the British aristocracy, the boson) A the valiant Bussell heaved 
 witli strange emotions, and his heart rj naked with unusual throes, 
 at the prospect of this interview. As his host claimed to bo 
 * King,' he would naturally expect to be treated as such. But 
 how would that be ? Of the etiquotte of courts Russell had no 
 knowledge whatever. From French novels which he had road 
 he had a vague idea that peo])le said *Sire' when addrossin;:; 
 majesty, and got on their knees to kiss royal hands when tir.st 
 introduced. But farther than this our good Russell's knowhMlge 
 did not lead him, nor was his imagination able to convoy liiui. 
 He could only conjecture in the vaguest possible way, and wait 
 as patiently as possible for the hour of the momentous interview. 
 
 The appointed time arrived. He was waited on by six men : 
 all were armed. Russell felt an involuntary trepidation at this 
 sight, which reminded him of events, in his i-eading, where armed 
 men came in this way to lead some wretched prisoner otl" to 
 execution. However, he succeeded iu plucking up his courage 
 sufHciently to follow them. His own attire, certainly, did not a 
 little toward inspiring him with fortitude, and the brilliant uni- 
 form of a general officer with golden epaulettes, gohl stripes, gold 
 buttons, gold lace, gold hatband, gold collar, gorgeous hat, re- 
 splendent feathers, and rattling, clanking sword, all served to 
 stimulate him and rouse him to the heroic mood. 
 
 He was led by the men to the grand hall in which he had been 
 btfore. Here, around the sides, were gathered a large number 
 of men, all armed, and, though ill-dressed, still presenting a very 
 impressive appearance. In the middle of the hall was a table ou 
 which a dinner was spread. All around a hundred torches llared 
 and flamed, and from them vast clouds of pitchy smoke rolled 
 aloft into the vaulted ceiling. At one end there was a raised 
 seat, and on that raised seat there was a figure clothed iu a 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 83 
 
 gold 
 ve- 
 ld to 
 
 military g.ivb .and infolded iu a luilitaiy cloak. Toward this 
 lii,nu'c iiu.ssell was led. 
 
 Now, Russell was so overawed by the wild scene, by the armed 
 men, and, above all, by the thou«^ht of the royal presence and 
 the royal eye, that he daretl not look up, but kept hi.s eyes 
 humbly on the lloor, and in this way advanced. On reaching 
 the aforesaid figure our Russell fell upon his knees, an<l seizing 
 the hand of the said ligure, proceeded to kiss it with much vigour, 
 when suddenly a familiar voice sounded iu his ears, and looking 
 up, he felt like Lalla Rookh at the discovery of Feramorz, for he 
 found that this royal personage was uone other than the Carlist 
 chief. 
 
 'Rise, me lord,' said the well-known voice. 'We are glad to 
 recayve ye in our r'v'l ])risince. We cud give ye betther inter- 
 tainmint in our r'y'I palace av the Escurial, only thiui thayves av 
 rebels won't let us. But we can m.-ilntaiu our state here in these 
 sayquesthered mountains, an', begorra, we have a throne in the 
 liearts av a bowld pisintry.' 
 
 By this time Russell had risen to his feet, and stood there 
 bowing over and over again. 
 
 * His jNIajesty ' rose. 
 
 ' I'm not overfond,' said he, * me lord, av state ctiipiettc, though 
 our ancistors were divils av fellers at it. What I loike is a good 
 dinner, an' a glass av somethiu' warruui, an.' a pipe afthcr all. 
 Ye've he; ,nl the owld song : 
 
 ' " Oil, a taste av salt an' a plato av prntios, 
 And a dlirop av whisky to wash thitu down, 
 An' a tasty dhiiidheon to help digistion — 
 That's the fashion iu Limerick town." ' 
 
 It had already caused some sur[>rise to Russell that a Spanish 
 chieftain should speak English with the Irish accent ; but uow 
 to tind one who claimed to be tht King of Spain lightly ti-oUiug 
 an Irish ditty to a rollicking tune was, to say the least, just a 
 little unusual. It occurred to him, however, that * his Majesty ' 
 must have learned his English from an Iiishman ; and further 
 thought showed him that such a fact was perfectly natural, since, 
 being a Catholic, he had of course employed a Catholic tutor, who 
 was almost certain to be an Irishman. AV'hich conclusion led to 
 another, namely, that the Catholic ))rinces and nobles of Europe, 
 including the Pope himself and the College of Cardinals, if they 
 speak English at all, speak it with more or less of an Irish 
 brogue. 
 
 ' His Majesty ' now led the way to the table, inviting Russell 
 to follow. There Russell beheld a tempting repast, whose 
 savoury steam penetrated through his nostrils to that heart of 
 hearts — that cor cordium which lieth behind all sense, tilling it 
 
 6—2 
 
84 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 with wild longings. He saw roast cajwns, obtained from heaven 
 liuows where ; rich odoriferous olln jnxlrkfa, and various kinds 
 of game. There was aromatic cotfee ; there were steaming meat- 
 pies, in which was perceptible the scent of trulUes ; while modestly, 
 yet all-pervadingly, like the perfume of mignonette in a garden 
 of p thousand flowers, or like the inlluence of one good man in a 
 community of worldlings, or like the song of the poet in a hard, 
 
 {)rosaic ago, there was wafted to his senses the steam of fat up- 
 and mushrooms. 
 
 These two had that banquet all to themselves — nanicly, * hia 
 Majesty* and 'Lord ' Kussell. 
 
 ' Me lord,' said ' his Majesty,' ' is anything wanting ? Tell us. 
 Yer wish shall be gratified. Does ye wish for music ] A piper 
 an' a fiddler too are both » onvaynient, an', begorra, thim fellers 
 can bate out-an'-orit all the pipers and fiddlers this side av the 
 Bay av Biscay. They're both Irishmen, so they are, au' they're 
 our sworn bo<iy-gyard, an' there ye have it. But, man, ye're not 
 dhrinkiu'. VVhat'U ye have \ Here's port from Oporto — pure — 
 none av jer vile Saxon compounds ; likewise here's sherry from 
 Xeres. Here's marsala an' maraschino. Here's champagne an' 
 cognac. Here's also whisky. What d'ye say, me lord ) Is it 
 whisky ] Divil a doubt ! I knowed it — begorra, I knowed it 
 by the twinkle av yer eye. Thrust to me for find in' that out ; 
 sure it's meself that can tell a conjaynial spirit, so it is.* 
 
 Hereupon ' his Majesty ' began to brew a tumbler of toddy. 
 Busaell, who was an experienced hand, gazed upon the royal pro- 
 ceedings with a critical eye, but fouiy' nothing wanting. The 
 royal hand was as experienced as his own. The drink that 
 resulted was equal, to say the least of it, to anything that had 
 ever toucheil his palate. He tasted, and felt like a new man. 
 He tasted again, and all his sorrows vanished. He tasted for a 
 third time, and there came over him a feeling of peace, and con- 
 tent, and brotherly love to all mankind. 
 
 * His Majesty ' had also been tasting, and with every taste the 
 royal mind seemed to assume a new phase 
 
 * In our coort,' said * his Majesty,' * as ai prisint constichooted, 
 we cannot offer tl:e injuicemints that are held forth at Vienna, 
 Berlin, an' St. Paytersburg ; but we can furnish some lads that 
 can bate the worruld. I'd like to howld a coort an* have the 
 ladies. We'd have a ball. Oh, but it's meself that's fond av 
 dancin . Do ye dance, me lord ? Sure but there's nothin' in life 
 like it ! An' more's the pity that 1 can't get here the craim av 
 our Spanish aristocracy. But we're too far away entirely. As 
 for dancin'— begorra, I've seen dancin' in my time that 'ud take 
 yer head otF ! 
 
 ' " Oh, it bates all the illigant dancin' 
 That ivcr was danced at a ball, 
 
 you, 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 85 
 
 Whin Toddy camo out to the crowd, 
 
 An' danced upon nuthin' ut all — 
 Will a himpin cmvat round his neck 
 
 Tliat tiio hangman hud iixcvl on liis hcnd ; 
 An' 80 he kept kickin' an' pranc. 
 
 Long afthcr ho ought to be dead. 
 
 Whoor-000-000 !" ' 
 
 As 'his Majesty' trolled out this, Russell could not help feeling 
 that it was decidedly out of accord with his royal character, and 
 ventured even to liint as much. Upon this tears started into the 
 royal eye. ' His Majesty' took Hussell's hand, telling hini, with 
 deep emotion, that he was a true friend, and that he would strive 
 to profit by his friend.ship. 
 
 ' An' oh, ye thafe of the worruld !* continued ' his Majesty,' 
 suddenly changing the conversation, ' ye've played the mischief 
 wid thini bouils. Where have ye hid tliem, ye rogue I But 
 uiver mind. I'll be ayviii wid ye yit. How much are they ] 
 Thirty thousand pounds ! Begorr.i, I'll give ye that amouut for 
 thini. I'd like to take up thim bonds for the credit av our 
 monarchy au' our kingdom. I'll tell ye what I'll do. I'll give 
 ye au ordher on our lord high treasurer Un' the whole amount in 
 cash ! That's what I'll do, so I will. Ye uaydu't give yerself 
 any more throuble. I'll give ye the hard cash through the lord 
 high treasurer— that's me way. I'll do it !' 
 
 • His Majesty ' here mixed another glass of toddy. After a few 
 draughts he as-mmed a more dignified attitude. 
 
 ' Me lord,' said he, ' I should like to ask ye now, quite in- 
 farrumally, what there is to ])rayvint a raycogaition by your 
 governmint av our claims an' our rights. AVe ai'e wiuniu' our 
 way back to the throne an' crowu av our ancistors. A lawless 
 mob howlds our capital, but they'll be kicked .out afoie a month 
 av Sundays. I should like to make a frindly agraymint through 
 you, me lord, wid your government. Whin I git to be king, I 
 agray to cling to au alliance ottins've and daytinsive wid your 
 governmint. There's one common inimy, the raypublic av 
 America, an' it's ayqually hostile to both av us. AVe, as solo 
 repraysintative av Conservatism au' the owld proimayval order, 
 will ally ourselves wid you agin the common inimy for paice au' 
 for war. What do ye say to that ? Begorra, it's a hue otFer 
 iutoirely I Ye'U not find another livin' potentate that'll make it. 
 Bismarck won't. M'Mahon — Irishman though he is — won't. 
 The Czar won't. Franz Joseph won't. So there's only us. If 
 ye don't accept our proposals we'll go over to the inimy. We'll 
 buy President Grant. We'll make a dayscint on Ireland. I 
 know a man that 'ud be proud to take command av the invadin' 
 armies. His name's O'Toole, that's now in the Carlist camp, an' 
 a divil av a feller he is. He'd sweep Ireland from one iud av it 
 
86 
 
 J CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 to tiie other, f Jive me O'Toole, says T, an' I'll bate the worruM 
 ill urnuus, says I. Begona, I would. An' uow fill yer glass, me 
 boy.' 
 
 ' His Majesty' mixed another tumbler for Enssell. 
 
 ' Drink, me lord,' said lie, * to the fairest av the fair.' 
 
 And with these words he swallowed anotlier tumblerful, whik- 
 Ilusst'll did the same. 
 
 ' Jjy *' the fairest av tlie fair," ' exi)lained ' his Majesty,' as he 
 ]M'oceeded to mix another drink, ' I mean yer dau.i^hter— the 
 l-airless Lady Katie.' 
 
 ' ]My ward, "your Majesty,"' said Russell, correcting him. 
 
 ' All the same, me lord,' said ' his Majesty ;' ' it was a slip av 
 the tongue. It was me heart that spoke. Listen to me now. 
 I've somethin' to tell ye. It's a proposal.' 
 
 ' His Majesty' paused for a moment, then took a fresh drink, 
 then laid down the glass, then sighed heavily, and then took 
 another drink. 
 
 ' Me lord,' s:iid he, in a .solemn tone, * ye know, no doubt, that 
 we are a bachelor. Ye don't know it \ Well, we are. I say, we 
 are a bachelor, "We've been Icokin' all around for ages afther a 
 partner — a r'y'l consort. All the iligible faymales av all the 
 coorts av Eurojie have been solicitin' our alliance. But noii»> 
 av thim wor shuitable. No. Without love we won't marry — wo 
 won't ailopt the infernal system av state marriages. AVhero 
 our heart isn't concerned our r'y'al hand don't go — not a bit av 
 it. Now, we niver saw the woman yet that we'd be willin' to 
 raise to the throne av Spain ontil we saw yer ward — the lovely, 
 the charrumin, the baywitchin' Lady Katie. Nay, me lord, 
 start not, an' don't suspect us av onjue praycipitatiou. AVe 
 haven't addhrcssed the Lady Katie yet on that point. We've 
 acted in accardauce wid r'y'l usage, an' now make a farrumal 
 oHer av our alliauce to the parents an' gyarjians av the lovely 
 being. What do ye say, me lord \ Will ye give yer consint to 
 our proposal, an' allow yer ward to become the (Juane av Spain V 
 
 At this ilussell was (|uite overwhelmed. He had listened with 
 open mouth to this last address of 'his Majesty,' and at length, 
 when it all culminated in this direct and unmistakable proposal, 
 he was so astounded that he didn't know what to say. He there- 
 fore sat silent and staring with o})en mouth, until tat length, not 
 knowing anything better to do, he meclianically raised the 
 tumbler of toddy and poured the whole of it into that open 
 mouth. 
 
 ' That's right !' exclaimed ' his Majesty ' lieartily, and he at 
 once began to replenish the empty glasses ; ' an' mind you, me 
 boy, it's as much for your intherest, me lord, as it is for hers. 
 It's a great thing for a young gyerrpl to become the Qnane av 
 Spain ; au' as for yerself, why, av coorse there's no iud to the 
 
A CAS77J: IX sr.i/x. 
 
 87 
 
 honours an' dignities an' lucrative oflices tli.it ye'il be aflhor 
 gt'ttin' howlil av. VeM be a kind av f;ither-in-l;nv to the (^>Maue. 
 Ve'd be made Ministher av War or anytliin' else ye axed for. 
 Ye'd be made a Juke av (iibraltar an' I'riiico av the rvreneea. 
 Ye'd beloni,' to the I'rivy Council. VeM be the chief adviser av 
 our r'yal Maje.^ty— that's nie, ye know; an' av coorse it isn't 
 every day that ye have such a chance as that.' 
 
 ' ilis JNEajesty' paused for a reply. llussell stared fixedlv 
 before him into vacancy, but uttered not a word. Kither the hiL,di 
 honour that iiad been projiosed, f»r the brilliant future that 
 had been laid open, or else the whisky toddy, or all three com- 
 bined, had overcome him utterly ; and .so he sat there staring and 
 .silent. 
 
 ' Sure, I know what yer thiukiu' about,' said ' his ^Majesty.* 
 'There's only one objection, au' that's religion. But that'.s 
 nothin',' he continued, with airy ami pagan indillereuce ; ' we can 
 arrange all that aisy enough. Love's stronger than religion any 
 (lay. Ye know the owld .song.' 
 
 And ' his Majesty' trolled out one of his peculiar melodies : 
 
 ' Tlioro wag n BiiUyshiinnnn spinster 
 Tiiat fell in lovo wid 11 Prodes'im" min'stor; 
 But the priiste refused to publis'i thohniiiis, 
 So tiioy both run away to tlio Mussulmans." 
 
 After this 'his Afajesty' went on in a rapturous way to 
 expatiate upon the subject of Katie, and in this way the remainder 
 of the evening was taken up. llussell said but little : what he 
 said was chietiy au incoherent jumble which expressed with tears 
 of gratitude a full acceptance of ' his Majesty's ' oiler. At the 
 same time he was able to point out that in Engla'id it was the 
 fashion to consult the lady herself, and to insist that ' his Majesty' 
 should .see Katie herself, so as to get her consent. AuJ this ' hisj 
 Majesty ' swore that he wouUl do. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 now HARRY FINDS HIMSELF VERY MUCH OVER-ESTIMATED, AND 
 AFTERWARD LIGHTS UPON A GLOOMY .MYSTEUV. 
 
 On the day after the departure of Russell. Harry was invited 
 to an interview with the chief. A guard of six Carlists escorted 
 him to the hall. Here there was an imposing scene. All along 
 the walls were lines c^ armed men in strange wild costumes ; 
 overhead rose the vaulted roof, crusted over with the mould of 
 ages ; Avhilc at one end there hung a canopy formed of the 
 gorgeous banner of Castile. Under this stood a figure in the 
 
A CASTLE L\ SPA/X. 
 
 uniform of a p^cncml ofTicor, imd as Harry drew near ho recog- 
 nised in him the CarHst chief. At the same moment a shout 
 rang througlj the IkiII, a himdrod rillcs fell with a crash ii])on 
 the stony pavement, and then followed a loud, long cry, ' Viva 
 el Key !' 
 
 Harry's familiarity with Spanish had already been made 
 known to the chief, who now addressed him in timt langua<^'e. 
 What, liowever, was the amazement of Uarry at learning the 
 astounding fact that the chief claimed to bo no less a person 
 than Don Carlos himself, and assumed the airs and claimed the 
 honours of royalty. In addition to this, while the chief claimed 
 such honours, his rude followers bestowed them with readiness 
 and even enthusiasm. That tliis could Ijo anything else than a 
 pretence— that this rude chief could really be the courtly and 
 gallant liouibon— seemed to Harry an utter absurdity ; and in 
 addition to this, the descriptions which he had heard of the real 
 Don Carlos did not at all accord with the appearance of this 
 man. Yet, if the claim M'as a false one, its very audacity showed 
 him tho possible peril that surrounded his party ; for if their 
 captor was so unblushing and unscrupulous a villain, what hoi)o 
 could they have of escape ? 
 
 Speaking then in this way as though ho were Don Carlos, and 
 assuming at the same time tho manner and stylo of a king, the 
 Carlist chief said much about his sorrow at being forced to 
 detain them, and also expatiated upon tho difficulties of his own 
 position. Finally, he informed Harry that a tax had been im- 
 posed on all foreigners to help pay the expenses of tho war.^ 
 
 To this Harry listened attentively, and was not surprised to 
 find that the chief expected a money payment. Whether he 
 called it a tax or any other name, it amounted to the same thiu^-, 
 and became a ransom for their lives. If he and his party were 
 thus held as prisoners to ransom, the act amounted, of course, to 
 nothing else than brigandage, and this Carlist chief was nothing 
 better than a brigand. Against being seized and hold as a 
 prisoner on such terms Harry could have offered no end of 
 arguments, of course, together with protests, objections, and 
 threats ; but ho had far too clear a head to think of such a 
 thing. He knew well tho uselessnoss of mere arguments in a 
 case like this, where he had nothing stronger behind, and there- 
 fore he sought to find out just what his position was. So, first 
 of all, ho asked what might bo the amount of his own ransom. 
 
 The answer to this question almost took his breath awav. 
 To his amazement and horror, the ransom named for him was 
 no less a sum than ten thousand pounds. 
 
 'Will "your Majesty" pa! don me,' said Harry with great 
 obsequiousness, and giving to his nptor the royal honours which 
 he claimed—' will " your Majesty pardon me if I assure " your 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 89 
 
 a 
 a 
 
 IG- 
 
 Ist 
 
 Majesty " that the amount of my ransom is so enormous that it 
 is utterly impossible for mo to pay it V 
 
 At this ' his JMajesty ' smiled, and proceeded to tell Harry 
 the ransoms tixed for the others : these were — for Russell and 
 his party thirty thousand pounds, and for Asliby one thousand. 
 The name ' Lord Russell,' which ' his Majesty' applied to that 
 worthy, sounded strani^o to Harry, but this was a trille compared 
 with other things, and so, without making any reference to this, 
 he replied : 
 
 ' Thirty thousand pounds ! I assure " your ^Majesty " that 
 Russell has not the fourth part of that in all the world.' 
 
 ' His Majesty ' looked incredulous, and told Har.y that ' Lord 
 Russell' had himself put his own wealth at two hundred thou- 
 sand, and that of his ward at fifty thousand. At this Harry's 
 heart quaked within him for fear of Katie. Now he began to 
 see more clearly the danger that there was. Russell, he thought, 
 had been indulging some foolish gasconade ab(jut himself, and 
 had let out the secret of Katie's fortune. He wondeicd why 
 Ashby had been let oif on so small a sum ; and thinking that ho 
 might not have heard correctly, he asked again about this. The 
 reply confirmed what he had heard, and Harry could not help 
 making a remark about the strange injustice of exacting tea 
 thousand from him and only one thousand from Ashby. This 
 at once was noticed by ' his Majesty, ' who, however, proposed 
 not to lessen the ransom of Harry, but to raise that ol" Ashby. 
 He eagerly asked Harry about the wealth of his friend. 
 
 ' Oh, I don't know,' said Harry, who saw that it would not 
 help himself to have Ashby's ransom raised. ' All I do know 
 is this, which I assure " your Majesty " is truth, that to mo a 
 ransom of ten thousand pounds is an impossible sum, and means 
 simply death.' 
 
 ' His Majesty ' smiled, assenting at the same time to the state- 
 ment that non-payment was equivalent to death. 
 
 ' In that case,' said Harry, ' may I ask one favour ?' 
 
 ' His Majesty ' graciously assented. 
 
 'I should like,' said Harry, 'to have my valise. There's 
 nothing in it that I care about except some cigars ' 
 
 'His Majesty ' interrupted with a wave of the royal hand, and 
 granted his request. After this Harry was informed that one 
 week was allowed for time in which to procure a ransom, and 
 that if it were not forthcoming at the end of that time, he and 
 his friends would all be shot. After this Harry was dismissed 
 to his own apartment. The dread sentence and its possible 
 rosulfc interfered neither with the digestion nor the sleep of the 
 light-hoar ted Harry. That night he went to bed and slept the 
 sleep of the just. He had the bed and the room now all to 
 
^ J CASTLi: IX SPA/X, 
 
 liimsplf. and would liavc Hlcpt till morniii!,' had ho not boon 
 rouKod l)y a very Kingular cii'cinnstam'u. 
 
 As ho lay slcopiii<^', it sconiod to liim that there was a touch 
 on liiH rorciicad oi' .sdinL'thiiij,' liivu a hand, and a niiirniur in liis 
 oar of soniethin",' like a voice, a id, what ia more a woman's 
 voice. Til a moment ho was wide awake, and had started up 
 and was stariii<,' around. The moonheams streamed through the 
 narrow windows into the room and Tell in Itroad strips of li,i,dit 
 npon the stony floor, dill'usinj,' a mild and mellow lustre in some 
 parts, yot leavinj^ the rest of the {,'reat room in obscurity. And 
 here, acrofs those strips of liji^ht and throui^^h those moonbeainw, 
 Harry plaiidy discerned a fij^'uro which waw ^lidins; swiftly 
 alont,'. It was a female figure, and it was liglit and fragile, 
 while long dusky drapery floated around it. S ) completely 
 overwhelmed was Ilari'v with amazement and bewilderment at 
 this sight, that for full Jive minutes he sat without moving and 
 stared full before him. Then ho put his feet out on the floor, and, 
 sitting on the side of the bed, slowly ejaculated, ' Well, by Jove I' 
 
 Suddenly he started nj) and sprang toward the place where ho 
 had last seen the vision : but now there was nothing visible ; the 
 figure, whatever it was. had disappeared. Now, Harry had a 
 strong, robust, healthy nature, a good digestion, tough nerves, and 
 he was not in the least superstitious ; yet this event certainly made 
 him feel as ho l;"d never felt before. It was the suddenness of it, 
 as well as the incomprehensibility. He had to assure himself over 
 and over again that he was really aw-ake, and then he had to 
 repeatedly recall the vague and indistinct impressions that luul 
 been made. 
 
 It was certainly most puzzling. IIow had anyone contrived 
 to enter V And why should a woman come ? Was it a woman, 
 then — that figure — with its noiseless motion, its strange fragility, 
 its flowing, floating, cloud-like draperies V Or was it some 
 affection of his own disordered senses that had wrought out au 
 apparition from his own fancy ? It reminded him of those 
 weird and grisly scenes in the old romances which ho had read 
 in his boyhood, such as the 'Mysteries of Udolpho,' the 
 ' Romance of the Forest,' or the ' Castle of Otranto.' This 
 castle might well be the scene of such a mystery. Perhaps the 
 late incident was the revival of some dormant memory', arising 
 out of that half-forgotten reading in the old romances. It 
 may have been a dream, projecting itself forward into his 
 waking hours. 
 
 In this way Harry puzzled his brain for some time, sitting on 
 the side of the bed, mystified, and quite at a loss what to do. 
 But, as ho was essentially a man of action, he soon grew weary 
 of idle spccidation, and determined to search more actively into 
 the mystery, and if possible sift it to the bottom. So he drew 
 
 a niat( 
 
,1 CASTU: L\ sl'AIX. 
 
 91 
 
 a match and lighted his tonli. The flame flared up l)iilli.intly 
 and fhini,' a hirid i,d()w all arcmnd. Iloldiri,' this liij^h above his 
 head, Harry walked ahout, pocriiii? into the darkness, and scan- 
 niiij,' every nook and corner of tlic lar;,'o apartment. Jiiit lie 
 could see nothing. Tt was empty. 'V\w shulMing noise ol' his 
 own footsteps as he moved along was tin; only sound, ami no 
 living thing met his eye. It was plain that ho was alone, and 
 tliat no other x'oidd l»e ihei'e with him. 
 
 Hut that flguieV "NVherc was it V Whither had it gone? 
 doing back again to the bed, ho markeil the line of its motion, 
 ami perceived that it hail been directe<l toward the great fireplace: 
 at that spot it had faded away from his view. What bail been 
 the cau.so of this V Ihick again he went to the great lireplaco 
 and examined it carefnlly. The very reading of the old ro- 
 mances to which he had attribute 1 this apparition now sei'ved 
 to give him a valnable snggestioii : for, according to those im- 
 portant writings, wherever there is a gliost tliero is also a 
 ni.vsterious snbterranean passage, ov secret chamber, or con- 
 cealed door. It was for this that Harry now searched, to see if 
 any of the machinery of the castle of rdoli)ho might be found 
 cxisti?ig in a castle in Spain. He looke<l all over the floor, but 
 found nothing. He examined tiie back and the sides of the 
 fucidacc, but nothing was visililc save the stony surface, which 
 everywhere had the same massive exterior. At lengtli his 
 attention was arrested by tliose stones alreaily mentioned which 
 j)rojected one above the other from the side of the cliimney. 
 At lirst it seemed to him as thongli they might bo moval)le, 
 for ho was on the lookout for movalde stones or secret doors, 
 which might slide away in the ' IJdolpho ' fashion and disclose 
 secret passages or hidden chambers. F£e therefore tried each of 
 these in various ways, but found them all alike, fixed and im- 
 movable. 
 
 But now, as he stood trying the topmost stone, with his 
 torch held aloft, the glare of the light shone upon the sides of 
 the chimney and disclosed that very opening which Itussell had 
 already discovered. At first he thought that it might be a side 
 due, or a ventilator, or a contrivance to help the draught ; but 
 immediately after, the thought flashed upon him that the 
 mysterious figure might be concealed here. In an instant ho 
 began to clamber up the stones, full of eager excitement. On 
 reaching the top ho found, to his amazement, that he was in a 
 deep niche wdiich ran into the wall several feet, and was high 
 enough for him to stand in. Into this ho peered eagerly, think- 
 ing that he might discover his mysterious visitant, but he saw 
 nothing. But as he thus stood gazing into the niche with 
 sharpest scrutiny, he saw something white lying on the floor only 
 a few feet from him. He stooped forward and picked it up. 
 
92 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 Tt was a parcel, wrapped up in stilT paper, about twolvo inrlios 
 lon^, MX wide, ami oiio in tliickiioss. It was evidently a collec- 
 tion of docuuieuts of some Hort. Full of wonder at this 
 Rtranj,'o discovery, Harry now forgot all about the mysterious 
 apparition, and thought no more about the strangeness of ilio 
 place where ho was. Ho was only eager to loarn tho couteiits 
 of the package, and to investigate them without being soon. 
 Although ho (lid not believe that any oyo could behold him in 
 that (lark recess, yet he felt afraid, noverthelets, that some spy 
 might bo lurking near — some one like his late visitant— aud 
 therefore ho descende«l once moro to tho room, where ho 
 folt wafer. Here, after going all around, an<l peering out of 
 every window, and looking also and listening at the door, ho 
 ielt satisfied that he was unob.served. He now went into a 
 corner of the room at the head of tho bed and knelt down, 
 facing tho corner in such a way that he could conceal the pack- 
 ago while examining it. Here, with eager hands, ho tore it 
 open, and tho contents lay before him. 
 
 These contents consisted of a number of printed documents, 
 all folded up so as to bo of uniform size. One of these lie 
 took up and opened. It was in Spanish, with formidalilo 
 flourishing signatures and immense seal. One glance was 
 enough to show him what it was. It was a bond in which the 
 Spanish Government olForcd to pay one thousand pounds 
 English sterling money at tho end of thirty years to the bearer ; 
 and at tho bottom was a great array of coupons for semi- 
 annual interest on tho above, tho rate of interest being six pur 
 cent., and conse(piently each coupon being for thirty pounds. 
 
 A great light now flashed in upon Harry's njind. Hastily 
 ho counted the documents, and found them to be thirty in 
 number. The amount represented was therefore thirty 
 thousand pounds. Ho understood it all. This was Katies 
 money, of which lie had heard, llui^sell had been carrying it 
 about his person, as he had said, and had been afraid of losing 
 it. Ho had refused to make Harry his confident as to his in- 
 tentions. He had found out that niche somehow, and had 
 hidden there tho precious package. It was all Katie's, and had 
 now by a strange chanco fallen into his own hands. It struck 
 Harry as at once very strange, and very pleasant, that all 
 Katie's fortune should thus be placed in his care, and that ho 
 had thus become its guardian. He remembered all that Ashby 
 had said about Russell's designs to obtain Katie's money for 
 himself ; and although he had not altogether believed Ashl)y, 
 still he thought that the money was all the safer from being out 
 of Russell's possession. Russell was not altogether trustworthy, 
 while he himself would be loyal in this trust, and guard it with 
 his heart's blood. 
 
.1 CASTLE rx SPAIX. 
 
 93 
 
 At length ho onco more foMotl up the papers, and then, as ho 
 lieUl the package in his hands, there arose the great ami im- 
 portant (piestion — what was he to do with it ? To carry it ahout 
 on his person was, of course, not to he thought of. lie had aheady 
 been examined once, and had no security that lie wouKl not l)0 
 examined again. This mado it necessary to find some phico 
 wlierc they might bo concealed until it should ho safe to reclaim 
 thtni. Ah for concealment, it could not bo found in the room, 
 lie could not thrust it into tho straw (»f tho l>ed, for it would 
 be sure to bo found. Sinco he had l)een here tho bed had 
 aheady been examined twice. There remained, then, oidy tho 
 cliimnoy, and to this place he once more directed his steps in 
 search of a place of concealment. 
 
 IIo clindjod up and advanced a few paces to the end of tho 
 niche. On reaching this ho found, to his amazement, that it 
 was not a niche, l)ut a passage-way which ran on for so long a 
 distance that, as he peered down into it, ho could see no wid. 
 Tiiis passage-way served also to lessen the mystery of his lato 
 visitant, lie now thought that this visitant had been one of 
 tiic Carlist band, who liad come in, Avhile he was asleep, on a 
 reconnoitring expedition. Yet, however this may have Iteen, 
 it did not prevent him from searching for a place of conceal- 
 ment in this passage-way. It might not be a good place, tho 
 hidden documents might still bo liable to discovery, yet it was 
 tho only place, and so there was no choice in tho matter. 
 
 As Harry looked along this pas-^age-way ho came to a huge 
 projecting stone, which seemed iis though it had been dis- 
 lodged in some way. So largo was this stone, and so peculiar 
 was its dislocation, that Harry could only think of an earth- 
 quake as an adequate cause. It was about eight feet in 
 length by four feet in height, and one end jutted forth, while 
 the other end was sunken in, behind tho su'faco of tho wall, 
 in a corresponding manner. At the end whert lae stone jutted 
 out there was a crevice a few inches in width, which seemed 
 well adapted for a place of concealment, and upon this he at 
 once decided. But, to prevent the possibility of discovery, it 
 was necessary to thrust the package far in, while at tho same 
 time it must be arranged in such a way that it could be drawn 
 forth again. This could be done by means of tho string with 
 which it was bound up. This he took off, and tying one end 
 to the package, he thrust it into the crevice as far as ho could, 
 quite out of sight, leaving tho end of the string hanging out 
 about one inch, in such a way that it was discernible to no ono 
 except himself. 
 
m 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 IN 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 WHICH HARRY YIELDS TO AN "'-NCONTROLLARLE IMl'LL?;!;, 
 AND RISKS HIS LIFE IN A DARING ADVENTURE. 
 
 Harry now felt peifectly secure about the package. It seemed 
 to him to be safely hidden, beyond all possibility of discovery ; 
 for who could over venture into this passage-way ? And if any 
 one should, how could that package be seen '.■' Still, as to any- 
 one venturing here, ho had his doubts. There was thut 
 mysterious visit. What did that mean '? It was a female figure— 
 a woman, young, too, light, active. Who could it have been ? 
 It must have been some one familiar with the castle. He now 
 felt convinced that this figure was no apparition, that it was 
 some living person, that she had come down through this very 
 passage-way, and had entered his room, and touched him, and 
 whispered to him. So much was clear. 
 
 And now bofure him lay this passage-waj'. He was resolved 
 to explore it as far as possible, so as to unfold the mystery. 
 But who was this visitor V— a woman ! Was she friend or foe ? 
 If a foe, why had she come ? What did she expect, or why had 
 she spoken so gently and roused him so quietly ? If a friend, 
 •why had she lied so hurriedly, without a sign or word ? The 
 more he thought it o^■er, the more he felt convinced that his 
 visitor had made a j mistake ; that she had come expecting to 
 find some one else, and had been startled at the discovery of her 
 mistake. Perhaps Mrs, Russell had bribed one of the Carlist 
 ■women to carry a message to her husband. That seemed the 
 most natural way of accounting for it. 
 
 It n-as evident to Harry that this passage-way was known, 
 and was used ; that he was at the mercy of his captor ; and that 
 Russell had made a great blunder in hiding his package in such 
 a place. But why had his visitor failed to discover the package? 
 Perhaps because she came in the dark. That would account 
 for it. She could not have seen it ; she passed by it thus, both 
 while coming and going, 
 
 Xeverthelcss, Avhether this passage was known and used by 
 others or not, Harry could not nelp feeling that its discovery 
 was a great thing for him. PeWiaps it might lead out of the 
 castle. That meant escape, liberty, life ! It meant more. 
 Once outside, he felt that he could obtain help from some 
 quarter. He would then come back with a force which would 
 be sutficient to capture the castle and free his friends ; or, if he 
 could not gather a large force, he might find at least a small 
 band of men with whom he could steal in through this secret 
 passage, and effect the rescue of his frieuds in that way. And 
 
 n 
 
 tl 
 
 hi 
 ni 
 
 oti 
 
A CASTLE IX SPALX. 
 
 95 
 
 cage.' 
 
 bount 
 
 both 
 
 Id by 
 ]vcry 
 
 the 
 
 by ' his friends ' ho meant Katie. She, at least, could be ro cued, 
 and the best way would be to rescue her at the outset by carr\- 
 ing her off with him. Sueh were Harry's hopes and intentions. 
 
 In entering now upon this cxjiloration. Harry i'c't the great 
 necessity that there was of caution ; and yet, in spite of this, 
 the torch would have to bo retained, or else any farther progress 
 would bo impossible. To crawl along in the dark might bo 
 safer, but it would effect nothing, and he could only hope that 
 his torchlight would not bo observed. Dangerous or not, ho 
 must retain it ; and besides, he could not be in any greater peril 
 than ho had already been in. J?y this bold move, he had every- 
 thing to gain and nothing to lose. There Avas, however, one 
 other precaution which ho would have to take, and that was to 
 make as little noise as possible. liis heavy boots would never 
 do, and tho sound might pass through even such walls as these. 
 Removing these, therefore, he carried them under one arm, and, 
 holding the torch in his unoccupied hand, he advanced along tho 
 passage. The stones wore cold to his feet as he started on his 
 adventurous Avay. Slowly, cautiously, stealthily, ho moved 
 along. The passage was about six feet in height and two feet 
 wide, with massive stone-walls on either side. By its direction, 
 it seemed to pass through tho wall at one end of the great hall, 
 past tho place where tho stairway ascended from below. Along 
 this Harry moved noiselessly and watchfully, and at length 
 came to a phico where tho passage-way turned at right angles, 
 just as it had done at the entrance. Up this ho wallced, and, 
 after a few paces, perceived an abyss before him. In an instant 
 ho nndersto )d what this was. It Avas another chimney similar 
 to tho one in his room, from Avhicli the passage Avay hatl started, 
 and here too, doubtless, there Avas a room like his own. 
 
 He noAv extinguished tho torch, which, together Avith the 
 boots, he put down on the floor, and then, lying flat doAvn, he 
 thrust his head over the opening ?nd tried to see what Avas 
 beloAV. There Avas a faint light, the light of moonbeams, Avhich 
 streamed in here and fell upon the floor, just as in his own room. 
 Ho reached down his^ hand, and could feel that here too there 
 Avcre stepping-stones. In fact, there Avero tAVo rooms connected 
 by this passage-Avay, and in all probability they Avere exactly 
 similar. But who were in this room ':* Tho men had been 
 taken to one side of the great hall, the Avomen to tho other. 
 Were the women here ? Were they by them- vivos ? And Avas 
 Katie here ? Would it be possible for him to go doAvn so as to 
 try to communicate with any of them? It Avas certainly 
 hazardous. A discovery Avould ruin all. It Avould be better to 
 Avait, at any rate to Avatch hero for a Avhile and listen. 
 
 As he Avatched he could see somoAvhat better, for his eyes 
 greAv more accustomed to tho dim light. Ho could make out the 
 
96 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALV. 
 
 stepping-stones, and the chimney floor, and the floor of the 
 room for about one-tliird of the distance from tho chimney. As 
 he lay there and watched and listened, theio came to his ears, 
 through the deep stillness of night, the sound of regular breath- 
 ing, as of sleepers, together with an occasional sigh, as of some 
 one in a troubled dream, They were all asleep, then ! Who ? 
 The CarlistSjOr the womon attendants ? or was it not rather his 
 own friends — and — Katie ? At this thought an uncontrollable 
 desire seized him to venture down and see for himself. He 
 might get near enough to see for himself. He could strike a 
 match, take one look, and then, if mistaken, retreat. Dared he 
 venture ? Ho dared. 
 
 He raised himself, and then was about to put one foot down 
 so as to descend, but at that very moment, as he stood poised 
 in that attitude, he heard a faint shuffling sound below. He 
 stopped and looked down cautiously. There, across the moon- 
 beams, he could see a figure moving ; the very same figure that 
 he had seen moving across the moonbeams in his own room — 
 the same slender, slight, fragile figure, with the same floating, 
 vaporous drapery. But now he did not feel one particle of 
 wonder or superstitious awe. He understood it all. The 
 woman who had visited him had fled back here, and was now 
 about to return. What should he do ? He must retreat. She 
 was evidently coming in his direction. He would go back to 
 his own room, and wait and watch and intercept her. As Harry 
 hesitated the woman stopped also, and listened. Then she 
 advanced again. 
 
 Upon this Harry retreated, taking his boots and the extin- 
 guished torch, and went back again. He succeeded in regaining 
 his own room without making any noise, and by that time he 
 had decided on what he ought to do. He decided to stand in 
 the fireplace, on the opposite side. The woman would come 
 down the stepping-stones and steal into the room : he would 
 watch her and find out what she wanted. Then he would act 
 according to the issue of events ; and at any rate he could inter- 
 cept her on her return, and make her give an account of herself. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, Harry stood there in the 
 chimney, waiting most patiently for what seemed a very long 
 time. He suspected that the woman might still be hesitating, but 
 determined to wait until she should make her appearance. At 
 length he heard a noise, which seemed to come from the passage 
 above. It was a soft, dull, scraping, sliding noise of a very 
 peculiar kind, the cause and the nature of which he could not con- 
 jecture. The sound came, and then stopped, and came again, and 
 again stopped, for three or four times. Harry listened and 
 waited. At last the sound ceased altogether, and there was the 
 same stillness as before. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALX. 
 
 97 
 
 Harry now "waited for so long a time tliat his patience was 
 quite exhausted, and ho resolved, come what might, to go up 
 aj-ain to the end of the passage and wait there, lie knew tho 
 n'ay now well enough. He left his torch and boots behind, and, 
 climbing up, went along the passage, half expecting to encounter 
 the woman, and ready to seize her and question her. But ho 
 found no one. All was still. He reached the chimney of tho 
 other room, and then, as before, ho looked down. Ho saw tho 
 moonbeams lying on the floor ; ho heard the slow, low, regular 
 breathing of sleepers, one of whom seemed still to be in that 
 troubled dream. Familiarity with these surroundings had now 
 made him bold. 
 
 Should he venture now, or wait lonrr^r ;-» 
 
 Wait ! Why wait ? When could he hope to have a better 
 time than the present ? 
 
 "But one of the women was no doubt avrakc — that one who 
 had already visited him. 
 
 What of that ? He cared not ; he could not wait. Perhapa 
 she was a friend — it seemed like it. At any rate he was resolved 
 to risk it. To go back was not to bo thought of. All his nerves 
 were so wrought up, and to such an intense pitch of excitement, 
 that sleep was impossible and any longer waiting intolerable. 
 He determined to risk all now. 
 
 And for what ? 
 
 the chance, not of escape, but of 
 
 communicatmg 
 
 with 
 
 For 
 Katie. 
 
 The fact is, as any one may see, Harry was getting in a very 
 bad way about Katie. Else why should he make such a point 
 about seeing her, and run such a risk, and make even tho chance 
 of his personal safety a secondary consideration ? And what 
 for ? What did Katie care for him ? What indeed ? 
 
 These very questions had occurred to the mind of Harry 
 himself, but they had one and all been promptly answered by 
 that volatile young man in a way that was quite satisfactory to 
 himself. For he said to himself that he was a poor lone man ; 
 an unfortunate captive in a dungeon ; in the hands of a merci- 
 less foe ; under sentence of death ; with only a week to live ; 
 and that h<^ wanted sympathy, yes, pined for it— craved, yearned, 
 hungered and thirsted for sweet sympathy. And it seemed to 
 him as though no one could give him thot sympathy for which 
 he pined so\vell as Katie. And therefovo he was going down 
 to her on this desperate errand for the sole purpose of seeing 
 her. and perhaps of communicating with her. 
 
 A thought occurred to him at the eleventh hour, while ho was 
 on the verge of tho descent, and that was to write something 
 to her and drop it down. He might pencil something on a leaf 
 of his pocket-book. But, after all, what would bo the good of 
 
 7 
 
 % 
 
98 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA IX. 
 
 !|m:; 
 
 that ? AVould she ever sec it ? Might it not be picked up by 
 one of tlio waiting-women in the morning ? Most likely it 
 would bo, in which case it would bo carried to the chief, ' His 
 Majesty.' and all would be revealed. He then would be con- 
 veyed to another part of the castle, and then— good-bye to tlio 
 hidden package and to Katie. This thought decided him. He 
 continued his descent. 
 
 Slowly, cautiously, and stealthily Harry began to venture 
 down, looking behind him at every movement, and at every 
 movement waiting and listening. No sound arose, however, 
 except the low breathing, which was as regular as before. At 
 length he stood upon the stone floor of the fireplace. 
 
 Here he stood and looked into the room. By this time liis 
 eyes were so accustomed to the moonlight that he could see 
 objects with wonderful distinctness. He could see three bods, 
 upon which were reclining three figures, all apparently buried 
 in sleep. Like himself, all these had been compelled to lie down 
 in their clothes, Avith only such additional covering as might be 
 afforded by their own shawls and wraps. 
 
 Harry stole forward, his heart beating painfully. Upon the 
 rude couch nearest him lay a figure that seemed familiar. Tlio 
 moonbeams shone full upon her. A shawl with a large stripe 
 was drawn over her. It was Katie's shawl. 
 
 Harry came nearer. 
 
 He could see her ! It was —yes, it was Katie ! 
 
 There was no mistake about it. It was Katie, and she was 
 sound asleep. He looked at her as she slept — her head thrown 
 back, and one arm upraised, so that the little hand seemed 
 suspended in the air. For a few moments he stood, then ho 
 sank upon his knees, and gazed in silent rapture on that sweet 
 and beautiful face. Her breathing was soft and low— scarce 
 audible. He bent his head down to listen. Katie stirred. She 
 drew a long breath. 
 
 * H-s-s-s-s-sh !' whispered Harry. 
 
 At this Katie stopped breathing for a moment, and then she 
 whispered, very softly, 
 'Who are you?' 
 
 * Harry,' said the other. ' Don't speak a word.' 
 
 Saying this, he reached out his hand and took hers. Tliis 
 was intended merely to soothe her and to reassure her, for fear 
 that she might be startled. 
 
 • I know you would come to mo,' said Katie, in a rapid and 
 joyous whisper ; ' and here you are— you dear, good boy !' 
 
 At this Harry's heart beat with a rapture that was positive 
 pain. 
 
 • I had to come. I could not keep away,' ho whispered. 
 
 'I was juat dreaming that you were with mo,' whispered 
 
 
 man 
 
 j'>lb' 
 and 
 
A CASTLE LV SPALV. 
 
 00 
 
 311 bllC 
 
 r fear 
 d aiul 
 sitive 
 
 3er 
 
 ed 
 
 Katie, 'and it all seems so awfully natural. But won't the 
 others see you ?' 
 
 ' H-s-s-s-s-sh !' s.aid Harry. ' They're all sound asleep.' 
 
 Katie now raised herself up on her elbow, Avhile llaiT} re- 
 mained kneeling on the floor. 
 
 ' I think it's so lovely,* she said. ' It's so awfully nice, and 
 jolly, and all that — in this mysteriou-s old castle ; and here, lo 
 and behold ! you come popping in upon one just like a romance.' 
 
 ' Il-s-s-s-s-sh ! you mustn't speak.' 
 
 ' But it's so awfully nice, you know, I must speak, and, besides, 
 we're only whispering.* 
 
 ' Well, whisper lower, and closer.' 
 
 Katie held her head closer to Harry, and thus these two, for 
 purely precautionary purposes, carried on the rest of the con- 
 versation in that position. And their heads were so close that 
 they touched ; and their whispers were very soft and low. But 
 all this was necessary ; for if they had not taken these pre- 
 cautions, they might have wakened up old Mrs. llussell, and 
 then, as a matter of course, there would have been the mischief 
 to pay. 
 
 ' There's too much moonlight here,' said Harry. ' Come over 
 inside the old fireplace, and we'll be in the dark.' 
 
 • Oh, that will be so nice !' said Katie. And she at once got 
 up and stole away to the deep, dark fireplace, where both of 
 them were wrapped in impenetrable gloom. It was well that 
 they did so, for at that moment something waked Mrs. llussell, 
 who called out, 
 
 ' Katie !' 
 
 ' Well, auntie,' said Katie, from the depths of the fireplace. 
 
 ' I thought I heard a noise.' 
 
 ' Oh no, auntie ; you've been dreaming,' said Katie, in a tone 
 of sweet sympathy. ' Go to sleep agait, poor dear.' 
 
 And auntie sank back into the land of dreams. After a little 
 judicious waiting they were able to resume their interrupted 
 conversation. 
 
 'How, in the name of wonder,' said Katie, 'did you ever, 
 ever manage to get here ?' 
 
 Harry bent down, and in a low, very low, faint whisper told 
 her all about it, dwelling upon every little detail, and not for- 
 getting to mention how he had longed to see her, and had risked 
 everything for it. And Katie kept interrupting him incessantly, 
 with soft cooing whispers of sympathy, which were exceeding 
 sweet and precious. 
 
 And Katie proceeded to tell that she had been dreaming — 
 and wasn't it funny ? — about him ; that she thought he had got 
 iuto one of the windows, and was about to carry her off. 
 
 ' And were you glad to see me ?' asked Harry. 
 
 7—2 
 
100 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 I 'I 
 
 
 ' Awfully !' said Katio ; 'just the same in my dream as I am 
 now, only I can't see you one bit — it's so awfully dark.' 
 ' Are you afraid ?' asked Harry, in a trembling voice. 
 'Afraid? Oh no. It's awfully nice, and all that, you know.' 
 ' But shouldn't you like to get away out of this V 
 ' Get away ?' 
 
 * Yes, if I could get off, and get you off too ?' 
 ' But how can \\q go ?' 
 
 'Well, I don't know just yet. I only know the way from my 
 room here, and back again: but I may find out something.' 
 
 * But that won't do any good. Don't you really know any 
 way out ?' 
 
 * Not yet, but I hopo to find one ; I dare say I shall before 
 long.' 
 
 ' Oh, how delicious ! how perfectly delicious that would be ! 
 I do wish that you only could. It would bo quite too awfully 
 nice, you know,' 
 
 * I'll let you know. I promise you.' 
 
 'But then,' said Katie, 'you'll bo going off yourself and 
 leaving poor me behind.' 
 
 ' Leave ymi P said Harry indignantly ; * never !' 
 
 ' Wouldn't you really T asked Katie, in a tone of delight. 
 
 'Never,* said Harry. 'I wouldn't stir a step without yo-.i. 
 I'd rather be a prisoner with you than a free man without you.' 
 
 Katie drew a long breath. 
 
 * Well,' said she, ' I think you must be a true friend.' 
 
 * I'd rather be here with you,' persisted Harry, ' than any 
 where in the world without you.' 
 
 * If only your passage-way ran outside the building, wouldn't 
 it be nice V said Katie. ' Why, we might pop out now, and 
 away we would go, and no one a bit the wiser.' 
 
 ' And where would you like me to take you ?' 
 'Where? Oh, anywhere !' 
 
 * But where in particular ?' 
 
 * Oh, I don't care. I like Madrid very well, or London ; but 
 it's too rainy there and foggy.' 
 
 ' Should you like Barcelona ?' inquired Harry tenderly. 
 
 ' I dare say, though I've never been there. But I don't 
 half know what I'm talking about, and I think I've been mixing 
 up my dreams with real life ; and you come so into the middle 
 of a dream that it seems like a continuation of it ; and I'm not 
 sure but that this is a dream. I'm pinching myself too, all tlio 
 time, and it hurts, so that I think I must be awake. But, all 
 the same, you really mean what you say ?' 
 
 ' Mean it ? Why, I can't say one thousandth part of what I 
 really mean. Don't you believe it, when you see me here ?' 
 
 ' But I dou't see you at all,' said Katie. 
 
 wm 
 
A CASTLE TN SPALY, 
 
 lOI 
 
 Harry looked at her for a moment, and then said abruptly : 
 ' Keep your shawl around you, poor little girl ; I'm afraid 
 you'll get cold ;' and with tender solicitude ho proceeded to draw 
 her shawl tigliter around her slender figure. This was a work 
 which required no little time and skill. Not a word was now 
 spoken for some time. This was of course wiser on their part 
 than whispering, for whispers are sometimes dangerous, and 
 may lead to discovery. But Harry scorned troubled about 
 Katie's health, and was never satisfied about that shawl. 
 ' You are so very kind !' said Katie at last. 
 
 * It's because I'm so fond of — the shawl,' said Harry. ' I love 
 to arrange it for you. I should like to take it back with me.* 
 
 ' Should you really ?' 
 
 * Above all things— except one.* 
 ' What T 
 
 ' Why, of course, I should rather take back with mo what's 
 inside the shawl.' 
 
 ' Well, I'm sure " what's inside the shawl " would like very 
 much to get away out of this prison ; and so, sir, when you find 
 a way, you must let her know. But won't Mr. Russell wake 
 and miss you ?' 
 
 'Mr. Russell ? Why, ho isn't with mo any longer.' 
 
 ' Isn't he ?' 
 
 ' No. I'm all alone. They took him away, and I suppose he's 
 alone too.' • 
 
 ' Oh dear ! I hope I sha'n't be left alone.* 
 
 * I hope, if you are, you may be left here.' 
 
 * Why T asked Katie, who knew perfectly well, but liked to 
 hear it stated in plain words. 
 
 ' Why — because I could como to see you all the time then, 
 instead of waiting till they're all asleep.' 
 
 \ 
 
 but 
 
 don't 
 lixing 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN AYIIICII DOLORES INDULGES IN SOME IlEMINISCENCES OF THE 
 
 PAST. 
 
 The sleeper to whose sighs Harry had listened was Mrs. 
 Russell, who awaked on the following morning burdened with 
 the memories of unpleasant dreams. Dolores was bright and 
 cheerful. Katie was as gay and as sunny as ever — perhaps a 
 trifle more so. 
 
 * I don't understand how it is,' said Mrs. Russell, * that you 
 two can keep up your spirits so in this ogre's castle. I'm certain 
 tliat something dreadful's going to happen.' 
 
 * Oh, auntie, you shouldn't be always looking on the dark side 
 of things.' 
 
:ll 
 
 I 
 
 102 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 "mm 
 
 M 
 
 * I should liko to know what other sicio there is to look on 
 except the dark one. For my part, I think it best ulv,-ays to 
 prepare for the Avorst ; for then when it comes one isn't so 
 utterly overwhelmed.' 
 
 * Yes,' said Katie, ' but suppose it doesn't come ? Why, then, 
 don't you see, auntie, you will have had all your worry for 
 nothing V 
 
 'Oh, it's all very well for one like you. You are liko a 
 kitten, and turn everything to mirth and play.' 
 
 'Well, here is our dear, darling Dolores,' said Katie, who l)y 
 this time had become great friends with the dark-eyed Spanish 
 beauty. • Look at her ! She doesn't mope.' 
 
 ' Oh no, I doesn't what you call — mopes,' said Dolores in hcv 
 pretty broken English. * I see no causa to mopes,' 
 
 * But you're a prisoner as much as I am.' 
 
 ' Oh si —but thees is a land that I have a quaintance with : T 
 know thees land — thees part.' 
 
 ' Have you ever been here before ?' 
 
 ' Si — yes. I lif here once when a child.' 
 
 * Oh, you lived here,' said Katie. ' Well, now, do you know, 
 I call that awfully funny.' 
 
 ' My padre — he lif here in thees castello. I lif hero one tirao 
 — one anno — one year, i a thees castello.* 
 
 * What ! here in this castle ?' 
 
 * Yes, here. The padre — he had grand flocks of the merino 
 sheeps — to cultivate — to feed them in the pasturas — the sheep 
 — one — ten — twenty thousand — the sheep. And he had thou- 
 sand men shepherds — and he lif here in thees castello to see over 
 the flocks. But he was away among the flocks alia the times. 
 And me, and the madre, and the domesticos, we all did lif hero, 
 and it seems to me like homes.' 
 
 ' But that must have been long ago ?' 
 
 * Oh, long, long ago. I was vara leetle — a child ; and it was 
 long ago. Then the padre went to Cuba.' 
 
 ' Cuba ! What ! have you been there ?' 
 
 * Oh, many, many years.' 
 
 ' Across the Atlantic — far away in Cuba ?' 
 
 ' Far, far away,' said Dolores, her sweet voice rising to a 
 plaintive note; 'far away — in Cuba — oh, many, many? years ! 
 And there the padre had a plantation, and was rich ; but the 
 insurrection it did break out, and he was killed.' 
 
 Dolores stopped and wiped her eyes. Katie looked at her, 
 and her own eyes overflowed with tears of tender sympathy. 
 ' Oh, how sad !' she said. ' I had no idea.' 
 
 Dolores drew a long breath. 
 
 ' Yes ; he died, the good, tender padre ; and madre and me bo 
 left all — all — all — alone— alone — in the cruele world. And the 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 103 
 
 robol camo, and the soldiers, and oh, how they did fight ! And 
 the shives, tlioy did all run away — all— all — all — away : and tho 
 trees and fruits all destroy ; and the houses all burn up in one 
 gran' conflagration ; and it was one kind, good American that 
 did help us to fly ; or wo never — never would bo able to lif. So 
 wo did come back to our patria pt)or, and wo had to lif poor in 
 Valencia. I told you I was lifing in Valencia when I left that 
 place to come on thees travel.' 
 
 ' I suppose,' said Katie, ' since you lived in this castio onco, 
 you must know all about it.' 
 
 * Oh yes, all- dl about it.' 
 
 ' And you must have been all over it in every direction ?' 
 
 ' Oh yes, all over it — all — all over it— thousand — thousand 
 times, and in every parts and spots.' 
 
 ' It's such a strange old castle,' continued Katie, who was 
 very anxious to find out how far the knowledge of Dolores wont, 
 and whether she knew anything about the secret passage ; ' it's 
 such a strange old castle ; it's like those that one reads of in tho 
 old romances.' 
 
 ' Yes, oh, vara, vara,' said Dolores ; ' like tho feudal Gothic 
 castellos of tho old — old charming romances ; like tho castello 
 of the Cid ; and you go up tho towers and into the turrets, and 
 you walk over the top, past the battlemcnta, and you spy, spy, 
 spy deep down into tho courts ; and you dream, and dream, and 
 dream. And when I was a vara leetle child, I dil use to do 
 nothing else but wander about, and dream, and dream, and got 
 lost, and could not find my way back. Oh, I could tell you of 
 a thousand things. I could talk all tho day of that bright, 
 bright time when my padre was like a noble ; so rich he was, and 
 living in his grand castello.' 
 
 ' And did you really wander about so ? and did you really 
 get lost so ?' asked Katie, who was still following up her idea, 
 being intent upon learning how much Dolores knew about tho 
 inner secrets of the castle — * such as where, now,' she added 
 eagerly, ' where would you get lost ? 
 
 ' Oh, everywhere,' said Dolores, ' and all over. For there are 
 halls that open into gallerias ; and gallerias that open into 
 rooms ; and rooms into closets, and those into other halls ; and 
 grand apartments of states ; and states bed-chambers ; and 
 there are tho upper rooms for guests and domestioos ; and down 
 below them are rooms for tho outer servitores ; and far, far 
 down, far down underground, there are dungeons — fearful, 
 fearful places with darkness and r-r-rats \ — and that is all that 
 you do find when you come to move about in this wonderful, 
 this maravelloso castello.' 
 
 ' And have you been all through the vaults ?' asked Katio, 
 trying to lead Dolores on farther. 
 
I'M 
 
 J CIS//./: /.v s/w/x. 
 
 ' Y(>s.' Hiiid DolorcM. 'nil nil llironuli nil Mm vhiiIIm, »>vt'iv 
 Miii);l«' OIK* ; ninl llu'r«> wns nn nru'it'iit M'i'viior wlio hIi(>\v<'<| hip 
 nil I ho iMVHlt'ri.'i nn nnn(<nl, anriml. vcnornltln iiinn lio wnH — 
 mill lie Klimvctl mo nil lli(< mooioI'^, lill nil llit^ onHlolIo w.-oi nn 
 Known lo mo ',\H lliooM room ; ninl ho I <lii| Itoconu* Ioh|, no mom, 
 nnil \v<« <li<l UNO jo wnntloc Jo;<,i<Mii>r (liron<;li ilniK ninl IoikIv 
 w.'ivs, ntitl np jo jlio linrols, ninl <lo\vti lo Hut vnnlJM, till nil Hum 
 lu'nntilnl, lu>iuilirul old i-jislollo was known lo nm liko my own 
 room.' 
 
 \Vlnlo DoKm'oh InlKotl in UiIh slrnin nIu* frn<\v moro ninl moi(> 
 (Millinsinslic. nml mnilo nH(> of n mnlliiilicit y ol' },'rnr(>rnl),M's|,nn':i 
 io liolp onl hov monninj;. Ami lior «>yoM j.rlowo<| Inij^il, nml lioi' 
 o\pr«'ssiv(> foninios showod wondoi I'lil roi-linjj, wliilo li(<fmolioiiM 
 nnd lior looks woro I'nll of »>lo<|nom'o. II. wns ii lM'i|,'li(, niiij 
 joyons jtnsi llml. ojuMnMl jo lior moiuoiy, nml llio llionj^'lil, of il, 
 otMilil nol. ho onltMlninotl willionl omolioii. lly ilini omolion 
 hlio wns now nil «'niri«Ml nwny ; nml ns Kniio wnifliod Iter j;Iow- 
 in;: Inoo nml lior dark f;l«'nmin;f «'yoM nml nil lior t>lo(|ii(>iil, 
 
 ijivslmos, nIio jlionj'lil, Hint sin* lind iiovor kooii nnyono linll' so 
 ■.'nnlifnl. Hid, Kniio w.is dyini'- wiili onriosil.y lo lind oiil. Iiow 
 fnr llio kmnvlodj4;(M>l' Holoros o\lomlotl, nml no at lasl, lakin;f 
 lior ouo U'o\\\ Uoloros's t)wn w<»rd. slio H.iid : 
 
 ' Dark and lonoly ways ! Wlial dark and lontdy wayH. donr 
 Doloros y Thnl sounds as ilioiiii;li Uum'o art> soorol paNsaKOM 
 tliroiii;h lliis old oasllo. Oil, I do so lovo a plani willi vanlls 
 and soorol ]>assai;os I And arc llioro any lioro, doar ? And havo 
 y«Mi boon in lliom tn-or V 
 
 l.iko lioliinim:; llio }j;lanoo of Doloros swept ovor Katie's faoo ; 
 and ii, Avas a smldon, swift fj[lanoo, and ono full of snldlo (pios- 
 <i(MMn<x ami oaniion. Katie saw it all, and jiereeivod loo. al 
 <MU'o, that wliatovor Doloros mi<:[ht know, slio would not toll it 
 in that fashion, in answ(H' lo a point -hlank (piostion. As foi- 
 I>oloros. her svifl s,danco passed, !iml sho wont on with hardly 
 any ohan<:;o in hor lone : 
 
 'Oh vos • the dark aiul loiiely w.ays, far, far below — in the 
 vaults ;;mt thro\ij^h the wide, wide walls. For they rnn evcry- 
 whoto, so that ii> the aneient times of wars Iho warriors could 
 pass from tower lo lower.' 
 
 Katie saw that Dolores was on her guard and was evading 
 ber »piestion. from whieh she oonobided that the liltlo Spanish 
 maid knew all about the secret passage-way lo Harry's room. 
 The visitor lo liim must have been Doh)rcs, and no other. Jlnt 
 ■why ? This sho could not answer. Sho dotorniincd, however, 
 ujKMi two thin;;s — lirst. to keep lier own eyes ojien and watch ; 
 and secondly, to tell Harry all about it the next time sho saw 
 him. 
 
A c.isn/: rx sr.irx. 
 
 to5 
 
 ilio 
 
 prv- 
 
 kisii 
 
 ('iiAi"n;i: \x. 
 
 IM \virr*'it *irr:< mafihtv' lAimsiivt 'rrrri rMorrovM or \ 
 iMiv M, iiM-i'tM, ANM Mi:-i. itii,-v;i;i,!, II i»A//i,r,i) i-.v a 
 
 llltlM.IANr I'ltt.-MI'Krr. 
 
 ON lln< fnlluwiiij^ mi»riiiii;j Micii" \\.\n /Mf.'il, cxritt'iiiciit in Mix. 
 |»iimh('II'h ludiii. Tliin w.iM riiiiMcil Ity (iik; (if llm fViii.'iln id (cinl.inf.), 
 wim li;iil <'itnn« with tli"" iiiiiiKiiiircuH'iil (,|i;if, tlicy wfic to lie 
 liDiMHircd in ;i nli(»il. (iiiin hy u vinit fiKiii * Iii4 M.tjf.sly Mic 
 Kiriff.' 
 
 'Tlic K'iiiLji' cxcl.iimcil Men. IIiimmcII, (in hooii mm IlolorcM li;i'l 
 IriiiiHljid-.l MiiM. ' Wli.il, Kill!,' I W'liu i.-i Im- '!' 
 
 ' 'I'lm I'iiii^' !' Hiiid I ><>I<ii('H. ' Mf ciii only Ini oiio — OMO nin^lM 
 luTHiiii I )i)n ( '.irldM ' K ini,' ( 'Ii.'uIum.' 
 
 *l\in^!' fiird Mim. IfiiHscll, '.'iml cntninij licic ! Oli dc-ir! 
 Avli;il. hIiiiH I d«» / And my dr<:.sh!cH! ,'i,nd my jnwtl.i ! and my 
 fdilcl. iirliclt's ! ( Hi, wli.'ilcvcr -(!V(!r — ((Vcr will IjiTonm oF poor 
 in(> !' 
 
 ' Oil, .'nintic, il, in iiMclcst l.<» lliink of tli.d,,' naid Is.itic 'You 
 lire a niiHniicr, and no nm; kiiow.t Uiid. ho well an the " Kin;^'," an 
 li!> <';dlH iiiniMclf.' 
 
 Mix. KiiHHi'II, Iiowcvcm", felt diirt'irnl,, and fonUinwil iicr laiiicii- 
 l;d.ioi"< iiiiiil'liiM MiijcnLy' liimii-ll' a|i|»rarcd. (iicit wan tln-ir 
 HMrpii .) ut finding Uhm (sxaltcd pdiMonai^'t! to hi- no otlicr Uian 
 tlicir ('arlisl cliicf ; Imt they fnit wlill •^'icatt^- Hiirpiisf! wIkmi ' liin 
 MajcHl.y ' JM'j^'an l,oaddr<(HH (.li(!ni in I'ln^^liHli, with an acicnt wliicli, 
 tli(»iif,di fon'i,L^n, wan Htill familiar. 
 
 ' We liavt! calliMl, ladicw,' Haid lie, witli a Tna;^'rii(i(;(!nt Low, * to 
 wish ycz all a ,i,'ood iiiarniiiin', an' to ax aftcir yvA- healths.' 
 
 Tlu! ladicM mnrmuiMMl Home rc^ply which was not vory in- 
 it'lli,!,'il>I(S ill which, liowiivur, tho words 'your Mujonty ' oouurrcd 
 • jiiito frcMiui'iitl}'. 
 
 ' His Maj(\sty ' now Hcatcd himwilf upon tlio only so.'it in tlu; 
 room, namely, an oakon bunch, and then, with a wavo of his 
 royal liand, waid : 
 
 ' Ijo Hatod, ladies, he sated, feet's waive all farrums an' ciri- 
 luoiiies, an' howld convtirsation like fiinds. Jlc sated, we be;,' ; 
 it's our r'y'l will, so it is.' 
 
 The ladies looked at one another in mook cmbarrassniont. 
 There was uothin;^ for theiii to sit on (ixeept the rou;,'h couches 
 where they had slept ; and linally, as there w.as nothing else to 
 bo done, they sat there, Mrs. IIuhscjII bein;^ nearest to 'his 
 Majesty,' while Katie and Dolores sat farther away, side ])y side, 
 holding one auother'a Lauds, aud looJiiug very meek and demure 
 iudeed. 
 
i.yv 
 
 Ml w; ; /\ './• i/\' 
 
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 III will nlli 
 
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 )in riiiiii' Mini'illii'i li:i>i 
 
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 WISSO 
 
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 Mi-s. KnssoU 1\M(1 -M CwM fr I io;nl\ to fMinI mI lliiM woeful tli'»- 
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 ' l!i' I III' I II I VM II '' M ll'l ll", ' •• liiii I lie I\ iiM' I'i'/'i lii.i i^r,'i7il y, il,'-< 
 liiiliH' fill <'\ (I \ IkiiI V ll'l. Ill I'll' hi I. I'liit, < (iMic ;il'i|ii.(, j'"'''. ' ''"im 
 nil' 'lil liy 'Illl I y'l Midi', lui li II 11.4 llii> Hf..r v ' 
 
 Mi'i, jfiiM.ii II liM'l Illl Mill 'jiiil" |iil" V iK' I'lyil fill, ,'iri'l |.il' r 
 Vi'l III I lie Hniiinl 'if K(ilii'''i Imii|i;Ii, Iiii|, ' w'lidi m M-mr''! Ii't. 
 
 riiiy MiciiH'il III hIiu'.v IIi.'iI m!i", nil", 'liy ui'l ImimiIiI'', w,h 
 Hiiij'li'il mil ill II M|ii ' illl Miiiiiin I ('I III' III" iM/irk 'if r'lyjil fnviur. 
 Aiii| wliy ' Will il Illl liii li v(i ii'i'iKdl, 'll f'lr H'dii" 'iHi"r 
 ii'M'iiiM / .' 'Ill' I li'ii" III I 'iii'iil' I lli.il, il, wim 'ill li'r 'ivvn ji"'iiiMf.. 
 Al III" ii'iH'Uiil II '|iii .ll. I.I 'Illl Miiji'Mlyj' wlii'li wjiM A<t kiii'l, -t'» 
 li'inli'i , iiihI III III" 1,1111" liiii" M'l niiM'i ill!', -ill" ' 'iiil'l ll'l i'ln;^' r 
 llMi'^l, liiil, willi Ilnl ll'l iiii; li"iirl, uliy liirii'lil/, Jiri'l ^iili-di iii\- 
 liMi iiimmmh'mI, hIi" Willi, 'ivi r l.'» * lii-i Mdjivily,' iiri'l H';it"'l li'n' If 
 on I III' lii'iii'li liy lii'i (lid". 
 
 'I'lll' 111111111"! iif MiH. l.'iiMMcll, wlii'li li;i'l illl III'' ;iir^ ;iri'l \iT'\i<n 
 of »i, vill/ijn' riii|ii"M", |(i(("lli"r wiMi III'" li;mlifiilri"rtn ';f ;i, ,^^fK»<(| 
 iiiiHM, Mcriiiiil I'l Isjili" iiiid I >(i|((r"-<, liiif. ''^^^l'■'■ifllly K.'i.l.i", ;i, very 
 liili ;)iid wiiiidiiiii'i lliiii!^. Sli" !ilw;iy.4 l<ii''W l,li;il, Mm. I.''I.-(h«iII 
 wiiM )i fni.'iliiiii^, "."III iiii"iil,'il I i(';il III'', liiif, li;i'l ucvit l(»:f'»rf! .I'l'iri 
 Imi ho di'"|ily jilli' IcI. Ilnl, 'iii llli,^ i)i(!\.n'\iiit tli'- f^'.'i'l l;i'ly f"lt 
 fiH llinii.i^'li nil" vvji.'i iirciviiifi; fli'- li'im-'i;'" 'if l.li'i Kiiif.', ;i.ri'l rnii.dit; 
 lie I'MiiHi'd if nil" li.i'l :ill Mi" K"ii.4;ili'iii.-i 'if a'ouity l(";iiif,y. 
 
 MiH. IfiiHMfdl iKtvv, III, 'lii.'t Mil j"nl.y'H' r«'U«'Wf'i\ rf!fjiU!3t, \i('i.f!\.n 
 lo ivxpliiiii Ml" |i(inil iiiti «»f liiT liii.-<l»;ui'l. ll'' wjix a t;iik»r, it in 
 Iriii', JHil, iKil. liy fuiy rMC'iiisi ;i, (''(nifii'in f.jiil'ir. fn f?ict, hf; Ji.-Wi- 
 ciiil.rd rxchiHivcly with III" )iriMf.o''.r;ify. Wc w;i.h very cfuludiit in 
 liiM |ii'(il'i'HMiMii. I(r IijmI ;m .'uiny 'j ".ut,t,"r,-< firi'l ^ltitc^lf•r.^ nfidf;r 
 liiiii. Ilo wan not a iail'd-, I»iit, .-i. Mi;njli.'uit Taylor, aii'l, more- 
 
m 
 
 lo8 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPATX. 
 
 over, lio VMS a meniber of iho Merchant Taylors' Associatiou, aiid 
 a mail of oiiovmoiis woallli. 
 
 ' Sure to glory,' ojaculateil ' hia ISIajcsty,' as ]\rra. Rnssoll 
 paused for breath, ' T knowed it was just that. It makes all the 
 dill'oi- in the worruld whether a man's only a tailor wid a small 
 "t" or a Merchant Tiiyloi- wid capital letters.' 
 
 * We keej) our own carriage/ continued JNFrs. Russell, bridling 
 and tossing her head, 'and wo have our own coat-of-arnis .-md 
 crest — the llussell arms, you know, the same as +he JJuke of 
 ]]edford.' 
 
 "Dade !' said 'Ids ISFajesty,' 'so yo have the Russell arrums. 
 I'm ac(|uainted wid his (J race the Juke av I'edford. I seen him 
 in Paris, lie's a conniction av me own in a distant way, an' so 
 you too must be a coiniiction in a distant way, being a mimber 
 av the House av ]lussell.' 
 
 ' Oh, aire ! Oh yes— may it ])lease your Gr.icious Majesty — 
 yes. I tlare say I am. Oh yes.' JNIrs. Russell was (piiio overcome 
 ac the royal condescension. 
 
 'Sure,' continued 'his Majesty,' 'wo r'y'l ]iersonages always 
 acknowledge our cousins. You're a cousin av mine, a distant 
 one, it's thrue, but degrays don't count wid us. Wanst a cousin, 
 always a cousin.' 
 
 * Ah, sire !' 
 
 * I niver knowed that ye were a cousin befoor,' said ' his 
 ]\[;\jesty,' 'or else I'd saluted ye in our r'y'l fashion, just as our 
 cousin Quane Victoria did whin she acknowledged the Imperor 
 Napoleon. It's our Avay to acknowledge relationship wid the 
 r'y'l kiss. AVe call it the Kiss av State. Allow me, cousin.' 
 
 And before the astounded ^Mra. Russell iinderstood his inten- 
 tion, ' His Majesty ' ])ut his arm round her waist, and gave her a 
 sounding smack, which seemed to Katie like the report of a 
 pistol. 
 
 This was altogether too much for poor Katie. She had almost 
 lost control of herself several times already, but now it was im- 
 possible to maintain it n.ny longer, and she went oil' into a wild 
 burst of laughter. It ])roved contagious. Dolores caught it, and 
 clung to Katie, burying her face against her, and half liidiug it 
 behind her. 
 
 'His Majesty' dropped his 'cousin' as though he had been 
 shot, and, turning round, regarded the two young ladies for some 
 minutes in silence, while Mrs. Russell sat rigid with horror at 
 this shocking irreverence. But in the royal eye, aa it rested on 
 Katie, there was a merry twinkle, until at lengtn the contagion 
 seized upon ' his Majesty ' himself, and he too burst forth into 
 peals of laughter. After this even Mrs. Russell joined in, and so 
 it happened that the King and the three ladies enjoyed quite a 
 pleasant season. 
 
A CASTLE LV SPALY. 
 
 109 
 
 The King at length recovered fi-oni lii.s laughing fit, and drew 
 liiniHolf lip as though preparing for bu.sine.s.s. 
 
 ' Ye see,' said he, 'Mi.sther ItUHsell has coinniitted an oOinco 
 against our x'y'X prayrogativos, an' ayven his being our cousin 
 doesn't helj) him, ho it doe.sn't, for ye see it's a toinie av danger — 
 the habeas corpus is suspindid, tlirial by jury's done u[) ; tliere's 
 only martial law, an', be jabers, there's a coort-niartial in session 
 at this blessed moniint in the rocjin overhead.' 
 
 'Oh, sire,' exclaimed IVIrH. llusscll, chisping her hands, 'they're 
 not sitting on my poor John !' 
 
 'Sure an' it's just him, an' divil a one else, so it is ; an' it 'ud 
 be mesilf that 'ud be proud to git him oil' if I end, but I can't, 
 for law is law, and there ye have it ; and tliough wi; ;ire King, 
 yet even we haven't any j)ower over the law. Fiat jnsUtia, riuU 
 ccelnm. I've got no more conthrol over the law than over the 
 weather. But we've got somethin', an' that is a heart that niiltfi 
 at the soight av beauty in disthress.' 
 
 'Oh, sire,' said Mrs. llussell, 'spare him !' 
 
 'His Majesty' took her hand, pressed it, and held it in his. 
 
 'Dearest cousin,' said he, 'ye ax impossibilities. Law is an' 
 must be shu|)ramc. Even now the coort is deciding. Jiut in any 
 evint, even the worst, ye have a frind in us — constant, tinder, an' 
 tlirue ; in any evint, no matther what, moind ye, I won't forgit. 
 Niver, niver ! I'll be thrue to me word. Permit us to laymint 
 that we had not met ye befoor the late — that is, befoor John 
 Russell obtained this hand. Nay, dhrop not that beaucheous 
 head, fair one. Let tiie r'y'l eye gaze on those eharrums. Our 
 i''y'l joy 13 to bask an' sun ourselves in the light av loneliness an' 
 beauty.' 
 
 The strain in which 'his Majesty ' spoke was certainly high- 
 flown and perhaps extravagant, yet his intention was to express 
 tenderness and sym])athy, and to Mrs. llussell it seeme<l like a 
 declaration made to her, and expressive of much more. She felt 
 shocked, it is true, at the word 'late' applied to her unfortunate 
 husband by 'his Majesty,' yet the words which followed were 
 not without a certain consolation. 
 
 ' Oh, that it were possible,' continued ' Ids Majesty,' ' for some 
 of us in this room to be more to one another ! Oh, that some 
 cue here would allow us to hope ! Let her think av all that we 
 could do for her. She should l)e the sharer av our heart an' 
 throne. Her lovely brow should be graced by the crown av 
 Spain an' the Injies, She should be sun-nunded by the homage 
 av the chivalry av Si)ain. She should lill the most dazzlin' 
 position in all the worruld. She should be the cynosure av r'y'l 
 majistic beauty. She should have wealth, an' honors, an' titles, 
 an' dignities, an' jools, an' ginis, all powered pell-mell into her 
 lap ; au' all the power, glory, moight, majisty, an' dominion av 
 
^mmm 
 
 no 
 
 ,1 <:IS77 /' /,V ,s7M;A'. 
 
 ilit' inip.'wiini Spiniiuli inoiiMnliy hIhhiIiI lie wiiliii llic <;r,iM|t ,iv 
 III')' lilllo li,ii\il, Wli.tl M.iy y«', nil" lair nnc /' 
 
 All lliiM llin ill li;\r;Mi!;in' WMM nllt'icil r.«i (li(> lipiiclil nf K.-ilic, 
 ;nnl. Mn li(> s)n>lv(>, ' liin iM;i jcsl v ' K<"|>( Ihm (>v('m li veil on lirr, lin|iiii;r 
 tli.il nli(> \V(i\iM vcujiiind hv sonic "vl.iiiic or Mii;n. N i-l ;ill lie linio 
 <li,\i lie w.iM Hpcikini; lio w.va nuloi I nii;«l»'lv lioMint!; Ilio li.'ind oi" 
 M IN. IJnsscil. who very ii.'il iii.illy ImiI ;iII liiiH |)ro|)os.;| lo linsicH'. 
 'His Mjijcsly't^ ' l,nimiM<4(' li;ul ;ilrr;i(ly HrcnuMl lo ( 'ii\ (>y llic iii- 
 lovniMlioii tliiil Ikm- IuimIimihI li;iil pMSHcd Mw.'ty IVoni ('Mrlli, Mini w.im 
 now lln> 'l.ilc" .loliii IJnsscll ; .nnl iiincli ns h]\o niiijil nioinn 
 over tln» f,H(> of" on»> ho dcii, still il could no(, |»c ImM lli.il IIio 
 deviation of on(> like 'liis M.ijcsly' ulioiild (oncli licr Hi'imi'ivc 
 lic.iii. So wlicn llicsc ImmI, woidfi ciiiic, ;iiid liron<;lil, wind. ncciiici| 
 io licr lik(^ ;i direct ;ippc;il, slic w.ih dc(>|)lv iinncd. 
 
 ' \Vli;d s,\y yc, jiic I'.nr oii(> T rc|)c;i(cd 'Ihm M;ijcH(y' wiMi 
 .>;i'c;i(cv c;\nu'slncMM. hyinjv (o ciicli KidicM cvc. 
 
 Mis. l\nsM(>irs eyes were niodcslly IxmiI dt>wnw;ird on llie lloor. 
 Sh(> cliino <(> ilic i>\v;\l li.ind. 
 
 ' Oil. sir*' !' (die nuirnuived. ' Oli. your Ivoy.d M.ijesly 1 I :ini 
 lliinc youiH l'c.n>ve\" I e.iiuioi rernsc I' 
 
 And till)!;!!!!;- her ;\rnis alunil hini, liei" he.id .mjuiU npoii his 
 ^lunildov. 
 
 (MTAITI'K \\l. 
 
 IN >\nun Hi^uHvi: am> rvinor lir.tMN lo t.Kow \ kkv wvaa. 
 
 WnooKv's he.'Wt sank wilhiu him as, i\)llow(>d hy Talhol, he once 
 iniM'c entered the old null. lie knt>w |)erl'(>ctly W(>ll that, his 
 position was one ot" peril, and t'lniMy so I'roni Ihe pail >vliicli he 
 liad been ]ilayin^;'. The jciMino; lan^li o\' these mereilcss soldiers 
 kej^l vinginu' in liisears : the sneers ol" Lope/, and his hitter taunts 
 co'-.ld not be l\M-i;o(tei;. I lis dis^nisc was no longer ol" any \alu(> 
 either t() himself ov to Talbot ; his true eliaracter, when declared, 
 setMiied even wiMse in tlie eyes i^t" tlies*- men than his assumed 
 one had been. To tluMU a (.'arlist was far from beinj;' so bad as a 
 ne^^s]^apcr eonespondiMit ; for whiK' the one was an open enemy, 
 tlie other was a stvrct (oc, a traitor, and a spy. Moreover, in 
 addition to this, there was the fai-t that he was an American, 
 wliich, instead of disarming- their ra,:4(>, had only mtensilii'd it. 
 These men called themselves Ixepnblicans, bnt they were Spaniards 
 also; and Spaniards hate .Vmerit'ans. They cannot forgive thi> 
 great Kcpublic for its overshadowing power whiili menacis tlu-m 
 in the New World, and for the mighty attraction which it exor- 
 cises upon disalVected Cubans. 
 CUvat though his own danger might be, it was not, however. 
 
I CIS///! /X S/' UX 
 
 I ( r 
 
 ('(If liiliint'lf Midi. r.i(»ol<i' fniicil. I 
 
 \v;iM 
 
 for 'r;ill»()l. 'I'l ii-iliiM' 
 
 liriMcl) iin|)lii'il I y In IiIm cMif iiiii' !Mii<l;iiir)>, mIi)< Ii;iiI iiMtnincil IImm 
 .'illiit'. Aiimiin lJit< < 'iirlinl,'., it witiild li.ivt- lin-n Uic Im'hI, fif nio- 
 
 Ici'l ioMM ;ill(l MiC HmIchI, mI" (liHJ^IlJHCH. Allionj^ l{c|llllllif!lllH, il, W.'IM 
 |||(> WdlHl nj" jriultM. I''nf »li;illV »»r |||(< S|i;UIIhI| l«r|lllllli(',MI.'( WfK! 
 
 i'lill of l''i»'ii('li fuiiiiiMMiiHlic Hi'iil iiiM'iilw, mill w<'ii' ifiuly |(» v/nin) 
 
 Will' willl ,'lll [tlicMlH, .'IIhI tTclcMJ/IMlM of ;ill I'flKllH ol' I cl I L^l )l|. 
 
 Wli.'il. ('iiiilil H.'ivr 'riilltitl, riuiii Ijifir iiiiinlcioiin ll!^ll<l^^ I II, w.'i.t 
 (no Inlc lidW for Iht Io ^o lii.ck. She iihimI iciiiiiiii ;i |»ti<Ml, hjimw; 
 in icvi'mI liciHrIf ill licr line clKUfirlcf woiiM Im> Io iiihIi on lo 
 I'c'.inin <l('Mtii|r(,ioii. Am fi, |iri<>Ml,, Iiowcvit, hIh; w;im rxpoHi'tl Io 
 iiicvitiihic ti;m;.ji>i ; hIm> iiiiimI, liiiivf mII |M'iiI.t ; iunl l.<» Urooki' 
 (licit" HcriiMMJ iiol. oiu' r;iy of Iio|m< for jicr njifrl.y. 
 'riicy Weill, )»!irl< Io lli(> li.il, ,'iiii| lii'H> ||i(>y ri'injiincij ill Hihiico 
 
 for K.llllC lilllC. At/ l('li;^',lll r.lOokc H|MlKc. 
 
 •TmIImiI, !' 
 
 'Well, I'.lookr.' 
 
 ' ( Jiv(> iiic your liiiiid.' 
 
 Tlic Hlciitlcr Ii.'iihI of 'riilliol hIo|(> info Imm. II, vvmh .imcoM ,'i.h icr. 
 
 'TmIIioI, !' H.'iifl IJiouki! ill a tiemiiloiiH voifi), holding lier hand 
 in il. Iiiin f^n;iM|». 
 
 'VV<dl. i;nM»l<(<.' 
 
 * Do yon ninh'iHUuMl llio daii^jrr wo ;yyv. in (' 
 
 ' \i'», ni'ook(>.' 
 
 ' Do yon foiMriv(> uw foiiiiy Hliarn in l»iin;^'in;jf yr)ii inlo il, V 
 
 ' llrooki',' H.'iid 'r.'illiol. ic|(i-o;i"difnlly, ' HUi:li a ((ii»'.4l,ion i-t nn- 
 j^ciK'i'onH. I ittii Umi only ciiiho of your prcHcnl, d;iii;^f('i'. If yon 
 li;id liccn .'iloiic, witlioiil, hikIi ;i, f;i,l;d in<'nl»ii,4 im nic, yon niif,dil, 
 c'isiiy li;iv(' ('Hr;i|H'd ; or, rather, yon wonid never have fidjeii into 
 (Lmij^ci'. Oh, I know -I know only to(» well, th;i,t yon Jiave 
 thrown ;i,WJty yonr life or, I'Jithei', linked it — to Hav(! inc.' 
 
 Ah Tidliot end(Ml, her voii'(^ died aw;iy in sc-iro! juidihh; tonen, 
 wliiih were fnll of indeHcrih.iIjIo pathoH. JJrooke ;^'avo a nhr>i t 
 laiiirh. a.s iihiimI. 
 
 I'ooli !' M.nd ho. "rnt— tilt : MtnlV;iiid iionneimo. Tjilljot. tl 
 
 10 
 
 f.U't '\H, I've heel! a )iloekh(;;i,d. I'vf! jj^oi yon into a (Ix, ;ind you'io 
 the Hnllbrer. Now I'ln <|nite re;i,dy to die, an I do.servo, for f^M'ttin;^ 
 you into daii^'er ; hnt tin; iniHchief of it is, whatn ;;oint{ to 
 hocoino of you ( 1 HWoar to yon, Talbut, thi.s is now my f^iily 
 fear.' 
 
 ' IhooUo,' H.'iid Talhot, in inournfnl tnnoH, 'every word (jf yonr.s 
 is a reproaoh to ine. \ on fonn; nie to reinonihor how ha.so \ have 
 l»oou ill allowing you to naorilioo yourself for luo. Oh, if J oouM 
 only recall tho past fi^w hour.s ! if wo were only back a;^aiu in 
 tiio tower, I would novor let you go with nio ; I would inako my 
 journey alone, and * 
 
 ' t tiiiuk,' iutciTupied Jirooke, 'that 1 filiall have to ahut up. 
 
w 
 
 I (wsrrr /,v sr.t/x 
 
 ( 'onii\ now, It'l'i niMKt' M li.nii.un. I'll w\\ \u\ \\\oyo ultonl il.il 
 
 \»M1 (lou'l. Im i( ;\ ll;n>rMin /' 
 ' I MHp|>OSi> ';o.' 
 
 Then" WMM sil(>u<'i> \)(i\v I'll)' ;( mIioi 1 I iun'. .'il'li r w liirli llinnlo' Mitiij : 
 'TmIIhiI. I;\(1. \\)\\ lioiTl (ilijc.'l, do von, In WW \\o\\\\,\y^ yniir 
 l\,n\il '" 
 
 'Ol>j,>,-|, UvooKc- / « '.-ilainlv n.»(.' 
 
 ' l< si'cmM lo ]\!\\o llh' cllci 1," Hiiiil HrooKo, ' v\' p(>o||\iiin »iip, ;iiiil 
 of \u;tKii\o in\ srH' ii'iMonch Ick^ Kith.' 
 
 ' \\ Ih u \iMi liold niv li;n\il. nri>olvy>.' -jjiil TmIIuM in ;v ln\v vi>in>, 
 who've (r<Muoi' 'liowcil iiinisiiMJ ''im-Hih!. ' I iVrl ohdnucr. ninl nil n\y 
 \vo;\lviirss li\noM inc. ,\iul I liK«' l'cs( of ;\II \\li;\t \i^\\ niiid Id inc 
 ;il>on( n\\ ii<>l luMin; :\ <m)I. I lit\(' lo Iim\i' vom cmII nii' " 'I'mIIxiI," 
 iiM' I ^iMniilrt n^ llionj^h xoii li.ivc conliilonro in imnr luc ; ImiI, 
 bcsl ol m11. I l<no l(> ln\>\' \ on nmv " TaH'ol, l;\il ;'" lor il Hccnin ;i;t 
 HiiM)i;1\ MMi lo.Ov on lUc ;\H \o\w r,|\i.il. \ m\v lone i'< lli:H ol' ;i 
 bv.n (' tu;n\ ;nl(lirsMin}v hi^4 ('(nn\;>(Io, ;\ntl llio Nciyfonml »>!" } onr 
 > oiO(' scruis to dvixo mII nn lo;\r mwmv." 
 
 '(Jootl boy !'s;u(l HiooKo in ;i li.n li. IniiKy voi.<t>. AfloiMvln'cli. 
 I\c vlt'.woil lii?* (Iu-omI vio|(>nt I\ . I>n( s;\itl nolhin;; I'nrlliiT lor ;i 
 vhiliv ' N o\» SCO, Talliol. l,\(l.' .'.liil \w :il Ii\Hl. ' H in Hum : I li;i\o 
 ;\ ii'oliniQ, \\\:\i I run'l y:<\ litl o\\ .'iml \'\o 1\m«I iI over siin'- wo loll 
 tlu' towiM'. riio loolni'; is llii;< IIimI >om ;<1(> my yonn<;or 
 bvollit^'. \ ou don'l un<loi>-l;ui(l. Ill loll yon ;tl(o\i( Imn.' 
 
 ' \ ou\- \onn<;or ImoIIkm' I' said TmIIioI, in ;) low voio(>, hoI'I .■nid 
 unnllovaMy swool. Tlion m littU^sioli I'ollowod. ;\nd slio .'nldod, 
 ' And thai I will tr\ {>> bo to \on. r'\ooK(\ nnlil tliis dani'.or im 
 ovov. l^ut yon nuisl l<oar\\illi nto. anti noi bo an>;ry il" I Inru 
 out sonu^tiuios \o lio a o<n\aid.' 
 
 ' A oowavd r said l^i'ooko. ' r.uuo, I liKo that. Why. 'i'alhol. 
 \>oy tho\ich \ on ;\yt\ \\\v\v ic. (MUM)>'.h stnlV \v yon to lit ont hall' a- 
 do/.<Mi nion. \ (Mi'ti^ a Talhol, (o lv>;rin with ; and. in .addition lo 
 that, you aiv that sort ot' ;\ jiov^on that yo\i \\o\iId lot youvsoll' ho 
 torn in piooos t'oi- th(^ sako «>t' a oonuadiv' 
 
 * liu i^lad yv>u think that ot' n\(\" s.aid Talhol ji(M)tIy. 
 ' 1 was .coino' \o toll von .abonl uiy youn-icr brothtT.' said 
 IWiiko. ' Wo woro in Cnha (>v:otluM'. whoi'o tho liuhtinj'' was 
 jnst suoh a oo\in<ry as this — and 1 w.as tryin.*;' to work uiy way 
 .alousi' botwoon tlu^ two fori^^s so as to oot t(> Matau/as. 'I'ho 
 ilaut^vv was t'ris^htt'nl. Ninthov sido s;avo any (]u;\v(or. It, was;i 
 war of siivaiivs. ,nid my ohiof .anxioty was for itoorC)tto. Ihil yow 
 uovorsaw anyone ]^liiokiov than ho w.as— as coo], .as oalm, as f(>a\ - 
 loss .ns tliouoh lu'' w.as u\ a pavlouj'. S(> wo w«M\t I'or wot'ks,' 
 ' .\nii what Inwiuu^ of him T askod T.alhot as IJrooko jviusod. 
 ' Wo osoapod.' saiil ho. ' and roaohod M;vtau/.as — but Ihorc— ll\o 
 
 V 
 
 ■>oov bov 
 
 diod. 
 
 v'l yon soo. TalbiU. sinoo yon hav(» joinod un* 
 
 ) 
 
 I 
 
 en I 
 
 hoc 
 I l'< 
 "f. . 
 Uo 
 
 iv.v moinovv i^oo^ baok lo Uioso L'ubau davs ; aiul wiionovov 1 say 
 
I (W'^Tf r rx sr,\/,\ 
 
 \ I 
 
 n n 
 
 ,»- 
 
 i;»ul 
 
 hv;>\ 
 
 M-» :t 
 
 loar- 
 
 lii vdii " 'rulltol, l(ul," il Hi'ciiiM MM lliuiigli I nrii M|»f>((kiiif; fo my <l(>iir 
 liml, (Mlt». And Ihmc |i<f, iiM> MMv, 'I'dllMtl, fJi.'il, if I (>v<'i Mii.m 
 f;miili;ir, ynii hhihI iim|, lliJiiK i|. w;iiil, of i(<m|ii«(|, ; tlijnk uilhcr 
 I lull I mil iiiif4l,'il<iii^ Vdii fur (Hln, )iii<l foiifiv<> it,.' 
 
 ' h(i iiol. Riy llml, Hfii'il 'riilliol.. ' I hIihiiM |(i(«f»>i lo luiv" yon 
 
 lIlJllK of IIH' IIH " < Mfo." .Mini «'VMI (')lll tllM "OMo."' 
 
 ' No, Tiilliol, lioy, yoii liMVc yiiiir own iifiiiic, Mini liy (lial, f will 
 rj.ll yon.' 
 
 ' If irt Rli;in}.r(>, |'»ioolu>,' Hfiiil 'I'lilhol.. 'Wo Ikivo only knfiwri 
 oii(> (iiioMkm' for ji hIioiI, (iiiio, liiil, il, mimmiim mm llioiiifli wo Iim»I Imou 
 fiicinlM for M, lifoliiiio. I Hii|»|toMo iIhm iM «»vvinj^ l,u llio ft'clini; of 
 ('niiirM(l('Hlii|» wliii'li liMM Hpinnir up Im'I.wiwh hm or |i<'ili;ip« 
 Im'i ;inM(' yon Miink of iii<> mm yoiir yoniifffr Itrollicr. I'or niy pMil,, 
 I IVi'l MM llioiijrli we I wo wore comiMdcH, liko HoJilicrM lliM,f, wo rcMfl 
 of, only njy jinil, in l.lio JniHinr'MH will Im> m, niiM(>iM,l»ln (Uio, [ fear. 
 \\'(< Mi(> InollirrH in nriiiH, I'rooKo, Mjon'l, wo /' 
 
 ' llrolliorM in MiniM,' HMid I'looko in a Hofl., t^oiill(> l,(»Mn ; ' yo.q, 
 T.illiol, l;nl, MimI'm oxfirtly vvIimI, wo nin. VoH, coniiM.do, wo jiavo 
 ;i lij^dil. Itoforo iim, Miid only omoJi ollirr lo roly on.' 
 
 'In our fjiinily,' hmJiI I'mIIioI, ' Mioro in m »inn'l,or wliidi iM mii 
 IhmiIooiii. It w;iM In-onjulil, from ilio I'ImhI, dnrini^ llio (JniMMdoM l»y 
 Mil MiiccMlor. VVIiilo llioro, ho wmm vvonndcd nnd l.-ikon ptiMonor 
 Ity M SMrMC(>n rinir iimiimmI llMyrcrldin. This SwrMcen l,i<'M,l.od him 
 willi t'liivMlroiiM jrciioroMiiy, Miid (i wfirm friondHliip npiiin|i; nii 
 Iiclwocn Mi(>m. Thoy oxcliMii^od MiniM, fln^ Smi/u'cmi l.'ikinrj 'rMJltol, .i 
 Mwoid, wliilo 'rMlliol, look llMyroddin'H cimcl-or. llM,yi('(|(|iii Htit 
 T.ilhol, frco. AflcrwMrd ho hiniHolf wmm Ifikcn priMonor, mimI 
 T.illiol, wuM fortiinMlociion^h In procnro liin frcodom. Tlio cim'Icr 
 iM tlio very ono which my MiicoHtor lif(niij;ht back from tlio Holy 
 Liiiid.' 
 
 ' \"on am! I,' wiid IJrooko in a dioory tone, ' will l»(^ Talhol, and 
 llayri'ddin. Von aro Ihi'dhiiHiiaii knit^ht, and I am tlio hoat/hon. 
 I I'm a. pity wo can't cxclianjro arniM.' 
 
 ' N'cM, wo oan't vory w(!ll do that.' 
 
 ' W»! (aiioxclianfroMum(>thin^', .at any rato,f;omrad(»,'Haid FJrooko. 
 ' Von h.ave my pri(«,4t'n dioHS— h.'t mo havo Hoiiiothintj of yours by 
 way of oxohaiif^o.' 
 
 ' Milt what can I ^rivo V Haid Talbot. 
 
 'Anything, fiom a ncjcdlo to a nocdio-pun. Tt would Ihs lintt^r 
 if portable — an old ribbon, a portable piiic.UHliion, a, bootlaf;(;,' 
 
 ' I havo Homothin/r,' Haid Talbot HUfldcnly, 'if yon will tiiko it, 
 bidoko ; but [u'rhapH you will think it only a bothor.' 
 
 VNo, Talbot, lad, lirothcr — brother in arniM, a,nd eomradc of 
 mine 1 — nothing that you can give Hhall be regarded as other than 
 a comrade'M pledge.' 
 
 Talbot withdrew her hand, which Brooko had been holding 
 all thia time. 
 
 8 
 
114 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ' Here is something,' said she. ' It will do better than any- 
 thing else.' 
 
 * What is it V asked Brooke, who could not see in ihe gloom 
 what it was that she offered. 
 
 ' A ring,' said Talbot, iu a voice that sunk to a whisper. 
 
 ' A ring V repeated Brooke. * Is it your ring, Talbot ? Thou 
 put it on my iiugcr with your own banc's, comrade, and T sw^av 
 to you by a soldier's word that it shall never leave me, either in 
 life or death.' 
 
 Talbot made no reply, but put the ring, which she had detached 
 from her own linger, upon the little finger of Brooke's left haud. 
 Not a word was said by either, and there was now a long silence, 
 which was finally broken "by Brooke. 
 
 ' Talbot,' said he, * don't you think you can sleep a little ?' 
 
 'I'll try.' 
 
 * Do. If you could only sleep a little, I should feel very glad 
 indeed.' 
 
 ' I'll try,' said Talbot again, ' and you must not suppose that I 
 am awake.' 
 
 Talbot now drew off for a little distance, while Brooke remained 
 as before, and was left to his own meditations. All was still 
 within, and outside the sounds gradually lessened, until at lengtli 
 they were heard no more. Slowly the time passed, and to Brooke 
 it had never in his life seemed so long. Not a sound escaped 
 from Talbot. Was she asleep 1 
 
 ' Talbot, lad !' said Brooke, iu a low voice. 
 
 ' Well, Brooke,' was the gentle reply. 
 
 ' Have you been asleep V 
 
 * Oh— well-a little.' 
 
 'No, Talbot,' said Brooke, 'you have not been asleep. And 
 you say that you were merely to make it pleasant for me. You 
 are full of anguish, Talbot, but you keep up a cheei'ful tone so as 
 not to add to my burdens. You see I know it all, Talbot, and 
 understand you thoroughly, so there need not be any further 
 dissimulation.' 
 
 'Brooke,' said Talbot, 'you are feverish from anxiety, and 
 fanciful. Be yourself. Sing one of your droll songs. Talk non- 
 sense. If you go on in this mournful strain, you will make me 
 break down utterly.' 
 
 At this Brooke drew a long breath, 
 
 ' Forgive me, Talbot,' he said. ' I really don't know what has 
 come over me. If I were alone I could sleep as sound as a to]), 
 but anxiety about another is a different thing. Still, you are 
 right, and I mean to turn the conversation to some other subject. 
 A song, did you say ? Very well. By-the-bye, did you c\ev 
 hear this ? 
 
 t 1 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 "5 
 
 And 
 
 You 
 
 so as 
 
 and 
 
 irthev 
 
 \i lias 
 a to]), 
 u are 
 Lject. 
 ever 
 
 ' "Ob, Jenny Jones was a lovely gal, 
 And her mother worked a manfjlo ; 
 Sa(5 fell in love with a fine younw lad, 
 Who played on tho triangle." ' 
 
 Brooke hummed this, and then stopped. 
 
 * I never heard it before/ said Talbot. ' Sing the rest. Now 
 you are yourself again. Whatever you feel, Brooke, don't speak 
 of it, but laugh, and jest, and sing old scraps of song.' 
 
 * I won't,' said Brooke. ' I'll sing nothing more, and I'll say 
 nothing more.' 
 
 Talbot made no reply. 
 
 Brooke was true to his resolution, and said not another word. 
 Talbot was as silent as he. Each had thoughts which were all- 
 engrossing. Neither spoke, but each knew perfectly well that the 
 other was wide awake, and full of care. 
 
 Thus the night passed away, with its long, long hours. It 
 seemed interminable ; but at length it came to an end, as all 
 nights must, however long. The dawn came, and the twj could 
 see each other. Each sat propped up against the wall. Neither 
 one spoke for a long time, until it was broad day, when Brooke, 
 who had been watching Talbot's face until it grew fully revealed, 
 broke the silence with a slight cough. Talbot turned and smiled. 
 
 ' Good-morning,' said Brooke. ' We seem to be having quite a 
 spell of weather. Quite a fine view from these windows. You 
 haven't been out yet, I sujjpose V 
 
 * Not yet,' said Talbot. 
 
 * Well/ said Brooke, ' we must take a walk after breakfast : 
 
 • " Oh, if I was the owner of London town, 
 I'd buy my love a scarlet gown — 
 A gowu of scarlet bombazine. 
 And away we'd travel to Gretna Green." ' 
 
 ' Have you ever been there V asked Talbot, trying to assume 
 Brooke's own careless tone. 
 
 * Yes, Talbot ; of course I have. Every American makes a 
 pilgrimage there v/hen he visits England. As the poet says : 
 
 ' " I have been there, and still would go ; 
 'Tis like a little heaven below." 
 Talbot!' 
 Brooke's voice changed. 
 ' Well, Brooke.' 
 
 * Can you be sure of yourself this day ? Can you stand it f 
 
 * Yes, Brooke.' 
 
 * Are you sure V 
 
 ' Oh, Talbot, Talbot ! don't shrink ! Oh, Talbot, don't falter ! 
 For my sake, don't let me see you falter, Talbot, or I shall break 
 
 8—2 
 
 % 
 
ii6 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 down. Alone I could let myself be tortured to death by Co- 
 manches, an<l I'd sing my death-song as bravely as Mullina 
 Bryau : but mark this, Talbo<- : if you break down, if you cvtMi 
 falter, I'm a lost, ruined, and dishonoured man. Will you re- 
 member that, Talbot V 
 
 As he spoke these words, Brooke's voice had a thrill in it that 
 Talbot had never heard before. 
 
 'Brooke,' said she, 'I will be firm. Eather than show any 
 weaknes?, I will die.' 
 
 ' That's very good,' said Brooke. * Your hand on it, Talbot.' 
 
 She held out her hand. He pressed it with a convulsive 
 grasp. 
 
 ' You will not forget V he asked eagerly. 
 
 ' I cannot forget,' she answered simply. 
 
 * Good lad !' said Brooke. 
 
 He dropped her hand, and at once resumed his careless 
 manner. 
 ' And now,' said he, ' we can continue our music : 
 
 ' "For tliero tho historic blacksmith stands " — 
 
 Gretna Green, you know — 
 
 ' " And hammers away at the marriago bands," 
 
 Only he don't do so now, you know, for he's dead and gone, and 
 they've got new marriage laws.' 
 
 Not long after this a man came up with a flask of wine and 
 some rolls. Brooke took them from him and brought them 
 over. 
 
 * Talbot,' said he, * you don't want to eat — in fact, at this 
 moment you hate food. But while I am with you I'm your 
 master, and I now command you to eat. Moreover, let me add 
 that it is necessary to eat, or else you may grow faint ; and then, 
 when there comes a chance of escape, you won't be able to walk, 
 and I shall have to carry you, don't you see ? And now won't 
 you eat, just for the sake of saving me from unnecessary fatigue 1' 
 
 ' I will eat if you will,' said Talbot. , 
 
 * Eat !' exclaimed Brooke. * What ! I eat ? Oh, well, I don't 
 mind. For that matter, I'd just as soon eat a pair of boots 
 as not.' 
 
 He broke off a fragment of bread and ate it. Talbot did the 
 same, and thus both forced themselves to eat, and each did this 
 for the sake of the other. 
 
 They said nothing while thus forcing themselves to eat. The 
 thought that was present to each was enough to occupy the mind, 
 and it was one which could not be put in words. Brooke saw 
 Death awaiting himself, and, worse than that, he saw Talbot— 
 alone, friendless, despairing, in the hands of remorseless fiends. 
 Talbot, on the other hand, saw Death awaiting Brooke, and never 
 
 > 
 
 I 1 
 I 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 117 
 
 could shake off tlio torturing *liought that his death was owing 
 to her, and that he was virtual]} dying for her. Had it not been 
 for her he niidit still have been safe. And it seemed to her to 
 be a very hard and bitter thing that such a man as this should 
 have to die iu such a way, and that she shouM be the cause. 
 Ah 1 it became very hard for her to keej) her promise to maintain 
 her coolness, and to force back those tears and those cries that 
 were ready to burst forth beyond control. Yet such was this girl's 
 high nature, that she could crush down her weak woman's heart, 
 and turn towards Brooke a face in which there was not a trace of 
 emotion, and speak in a voice without a tremor. 
 
 Soon a man appeared once more, thrusting his head up into 
 the loft, and iu a stern voice lie ordered them to come down. 
 
 Brooke rose. He did not look at Talbot. He walked toward 
 the ladder, droning out iu a nasal whine, to a most extraordinary 
 tune, the following words : 
 
 ' " Como on, you tarncl !MIngo, 
 
 I'll make you walk your chalks ; 
 D'ye think I care, by jingo ! 
 
 For all yor tomahawks ? 
 I'm more of salamander 
 
 Anil less of mortal man : 
 You cannot shake m^- (huider, 
 
 I'm a rale American !" ' 
 
 At the opening he paused, and looked back at Talbot's pale 
 face. 
 
 * Did you ever hear the dcath-soug of Mullins Bryan V ho 
 
 ' No,' said Talbot. 
 
 * H'm ! I suppose not,' said Brooke. 
 
 He then went down, and Talbot followed. 
 
 the 
 this 
 
 The 
 ind, 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 now TALBOT HAS LIFE AND FREEDOM OFFERED, AND, HOW 
 SHE DECLINES THE OFFER. 
 
 Outside, Lopez was seated upon a stone, which stood close by 
 the foundatiou wall of the mill, and near him were about a dozen 
 of his followers. The rest of the band were at a distance, and 
 were all variously occupied. Some were lolling on the grass, 
 smoking ; others were lying down as though trying to sleep ; 
 others were squatting on their haunches in gi-oups, talking and 
 gesticulating ; others were wandering away in different directions. 
 All this was taken] in at a glance by Brooke as he came out, 
 followed by Talbot, after which he turned and faced Lopez. 
 
Ii8 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 The latter regarded him witli sharp scrutiny for some time, after 
 which he looked in the same way at Talbot. The ga/e was re- 
 turned by Talbot calmly, <iuietly, and unshrinkingly, without 
 boldness, and yet without shyness. It was as thou^i,di she wished 
 to read the true character of this man, so as to sec what hope 
 there might be. 
 
 * Your name !' said Lopez to Brooke, in a tone of command. 
 
 * JJaleigh JJrooke,' said he. 
 
 * Seiior J3rooke,' said Lope/, * you must be aware that the 
 accounts which you gave of yourself last night were very contra- 
 dictory. Even at the best, you are, according to your own state- 
 ment, a newspaper correspontlent, which in our eyes is the same 
 as a sjiy. But more than this, you confess yourself to be an 
 American, which makes it still worse. And so, seiior, you see 
 that you are in an awkward position. But this is not all. There 
 is something more that I must ask. You speak of having come 
 on in trains — tliat were stopped. Were you not on that train 
 which was stopped by the Carlists V 
 
 'No,' said Brooke tirmly, and without a moment's hesitati -n. 
 
 That was false, of course ; but Brooke had already id itilied 
 himself with Talbot, for her sake, and had told a story ■' > which 
 he was now forced to adhere. It would have been fa. better if 
 he had told the truth at the outset, but it was too late now. 80 
 he answered ' No.' 
 
 'One of our men came on by the train in which you say you 
 came,' continueil Lopez, ' and has no recollection of you.' 
 
 * Very possible,' said Brooke coolly ; ' and I don't suppose I have 
 any recollection of him. People can't remember all who come 
 and go in railway trains, even in America, where all the carriages 
 are in one ; but here, where each car is divided into coaches, 
 how can one know anything about his fellow-passengers V 
 
 ' I came in the train that was stopped by the Carlists,' said 
 Lopez. 
 
 * Did you see me there V asked Brooke. 
 
 * No,' said Lopez ; ' but there was a priest.' 
 
 * Was that the priest V asked Brooke, pointing to Talbot. 
 
 * No,' said Lopez — *' not at all. This priest that I refer to had 
 a beard, and wore spectacles : he was a totally different man 
 from your friend.' 
 
 Lopez now paused and reflected for a few moments. 
 
 * Come,' said he at length, ' I'll give you a chance. I'm not 
 cruel ; I hate bloodshed ; and I don't care about shooting 
 prisoners, even when they're spies. We all look on you as a spy, 
 but I'll give you a chance to save yourself. I'll tell you all 
 frankly. It is this : I myself came on in that train that was 
 stopped by the Carlists. In that same train there was a party 
 of English ladies and gentlemen. All of the passengers, myself 
 
 ■ 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA IX. 
 
 119 
 
 included, wore robbed ; but, mark you, while ilie natives were 
 permitted to go away in .safety, tliesu En^dish — ladien, mind yon, 
 as well aa gentlennai — were detained by the t'arlists. Now, of 
 course, these Ho-called Carlists are merely brii^'ands, or elso tlu-y 
 would not have captured and robbed a party of inollensive 
 travellers, and .still le.ss woulil they have detained them a.s 
 prisoners. Tluiy are briLfands, then, and of course they intend 
 to exact a ransom from their prisoners, and of cour.se if the 
 ransom is not i)aid they will shoot every one of them. 
 
 * Well, after 1 had escaped from their clutches I conununicated 
 at once with the military authorities, and re|)orted the capture 
 
 ^ of the.se travellers. They immeiliately ordered me to take a 
 
 detachment of men and set oil" in pursuit. This is our ))re.sent 
 errand. You now know all ; and if you are a true man, you 
 will at once not only sympathize with our jjre.sent undertakin;,', 
 but you will 'i;nd us all Lhc aid in your power; you will tell us all 
 you know, you will be as irank with me as I have been with you, 
 and help us to aave these unfortunate ladie.s from a fate worse 
 than death.' 
 
 * Senor captain,' said IJrooke, without hesitatln;:f for one instant, 
 * I thank you for your f rank ne.s.s, but it is of no jiossible \alue 
 to me. I have come from a dill'erent direction, and cannot be of 
 the slightest assistance in this matter.' 
 
 'Oh, very well,' said Lopez coldly. 'As I said befori", I am 
 merciful, and hate shooting })risouers in coKl blood, iiut mark 
 this : if it is necessary I will not hesitate. I will allow you 
 this day to think over what I have saiil. And now, what about 
 this ])riest ?' 
 
 ' lie is an English priest,' said IJrooke calmly, * and cannot 
 luiderstand Spanish.' 
 
 'Very well, you shall act aa interpretex'. In the lirst place, his 
 name and residence I' 
 
 * Sydney Talbot,' said Brooke, ' of London.' 
 ' What are you doing in this country I' asked Lopez directly of 
 
 Talbot. 
 
 'I came on a visit to Ijarccloua,' said Talbot iu rei)ly, aa 
 Lrooke translated the question. 
 
 ' For what purpose V 
 
 ' Ou a visit to friends.* 
 
 ' What friends ?' 
 
 ' English people.' 
 
 ' Name V 
 
 ' Hivers,' said Talbot calmly, and without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 All this was news to Brooke, who had never learned her 
 private history or the secret of her journey to Spain. 
 
 'You do not know the language / You cauuot have been long 
 iu Spain V 
 
I20 
 
 A CASTLE L\ SPAIN. 
 
 II ' I 
 
 * No— only a week.* 
 
 ' A very wlioit visit/ said Lopez. * Did you come so far jiily 
 to reinaiu a week I' 
 
 ' No,' Haiil Talbot, ' I expected to slay much longer.' 
 
 ' Why did you not .stay <' 
 
 'liecauso I found on my arrival that the family had left 
 Barcelona.' 
 
 ' Where did they go ?' 
 
 'T have no idea.' 
 
 ' Were they not expecting you ?' 
 
 • 1 supposed that tluy wui-e expecting me, and I am quite 
 iinalj' ^ to account for their departure and their failure to meet me.' 
 
 ' And so you set out on your return home /' 
 
 •Yes.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Lopez, * you story is a little absurd, yet not at all 
 improbable. I dare way there was a mi.stake somewhere.' 
 
 'There must have been — yet I don't know.' 
 
 'Young sir,' said Lopez, after a pause, 'you carry your cha- 
 racter in your face. You at least are not a spy. Upon that I 
 would stake my life. I wish I could say as much fov your com- 
 panion. All Spaniards — at least all llepublicaus —would not let 
 a priest off so easily ; but you are different, and I could no 
 more suspect you than I could su.spcct the Apostle St. John. 
 Seiior, you are free ; you may go on your way at once.' 
 
 ' Sefior, you are free, and may go on your way at out^,' re- 
 peated Brooke, as a flush of joy passed over his face, '(jio, 
 Talbot, go,' he added earnestly ; ' go at once !' 
 
 But Talboi did not move. 
 
 ' I am deeply grateful, captain,' said she, 'but I prefer to remain 
 with my friend.' 
 
 ' Talbot !' cried Brooke. 
 
 ' Tell him what I say,' was Talbot's colm reply. 
 
 ' You are mad !' groaned Brooke. 
 
 'What is all this i' cried Lopez angrily. *What does the 
 priest say V 
 
 'The priest says that he will not go,' replied Brooke ; * that he 
 will stay by me.' 
 
 *0h, he does, does he?' said Lo;-3z. 'Well, that's all the 
 better for you. You'll need him, especially if you persist in your 
 obstinacy.' 
 
 Brooke translated this, and Talbot listened without a word. 
 
 Brooke was now ordered back into the mill, and he went, 
 Talbot following. On reaching the loft, they both were silent 
 for a long time. Brooke spoke first. 
 
 ' Oh, Talbot, Talbot !' he cried in a reproachful voice, * why 
 didn't you go I You had the chance.' 
 
 * Go !' exclaimed Talbot. ' What ! go and leave you 1' 
 
 .::!i 
 
A CASTLK IN SPA IX, 
 
 Ml 
 
 '01 course/ fin ill Brooke. 
 
 ' What ! wlioii you have risked your life, and are in suoh 
 danger of doath, for nii'] Oh, JJrooke, Brooke ! In this, then, 
 your opinion of me / Can you think nie capable of such uller 
 uaaeneHs I' 
 
 'Talbot,' said Brooke, 'it was to save your life that I left the 
 tower, and now you will not Have yourself.' 
 
 * Save myself ! Have my worthless life ! I should scorn it, if 1 
 must leave you to ilie. Never ! never ! Now, may (Jod do so to 
 me, and more also, if aui^ht but death part thee and me — th it 
 is, till we escape and are out of langiir. We must escape to- 
 gether. Vou shall never lay down yuur life for me.' 
 
 Talbot spoke with the air of one whoso resolution was im- 
 movable. Brooke's agitation was intense. 
 
 ' Talbot,' he cried, ' you are mad. You don't know these men. 
 They are remorseless tiends. They will wreak their vengeance 
 on you as well as on me.' 
 
 ' Let them.' sjiid Talbot firmly. 
 
 * I tell you,' cried Brooke in vehement tones, ' tliat I have a 
 duty to perform and a battle to tight. I have to be constant 
 until death to my duty ; but if you stay by me — if you ren»ain 
 — if you are still in peril — oh, Talbot ! I shall be false to my duty 
 — for your sake.' 
 
 ' No, Brooke, said Talbot, ' you will never be false to your duty 
 for my sake. You will be true, and I will stand by you. You 
 shall never see me deserting you. If you have any friendship 
 for me, you will be glad to see your friend by your side in the 
 hour of your trial.' 
 
 'It's not that — it's not that !' cried Brooke. 'Good heavens ! 
 you will not understand. Do you not see that if you remain 
 you will soon be alone in the world, and then — who will de- 
 fend you ]' 
 
 ' I understand well what you mean,' said Talbot firndy. ' You 
 expect to die, and do not wisli to leave me here alone amojig 
 these rulKans. Never fear for me. Heaven will protect me. 
 But you must know this well, and I say it once for all, I will not 
 leave you. I cannot be false or dishonourable. I can die. Yes, 
 Brooke, I can die, for I renieml)er how you told me that I am an 
 English lad. We Talbots have given up our lives in every 
 generation for what we believe to be the good cause ; and the 
 last of the Talbots can die gladly rather than desert a friend.' 
 
 Brooke turned away. A sob burst from him. In vain he tried 
 to restrain it. Then there followed an exceedingly bitter cry. 
 
 ' Talbot ! Talbot ! By heaven, you'll break my heart !' 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke !' cried Talbot, ' be calm — oh, be calm ! I say to 
 you, as you said to me, be calm for my sake ; for if you lose your 
 self-control I shall break down utterly.' 
 
122 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 CJIArTKU XXTII. 
 
 I'l 
 
 m wmcu j'.nooKi'] and tai,i!ot kxchanor confiden^cfs. 
 
 Aftku soiuo liino Ui-oolvo jtitw cnlmor. 
 
 'And now,' hmIiI 'l';ill»oi, 'tell mo all lh;it took ]>l;icc belwecn 
 yon and this ollii'd', for I liavo not nndcratootl.' 
 
 Ui-ooko told lier all. 
 
 'And Avliy can't yon do what ho ask.s T said Talbot, in suv|)ris(\ 
 'Why can't you take them to that castle I ^'ou were there, and 
 ■\vheu there you say you recognised the Carlist cldef liiniself, the 
 very man who stopped the train. Jlo must liavc the En,t,dish 
 prisoners there. Do you lueau to say tliat you will not helj) those 
 poor captives T 
 
 ' I cannot,' said Brooke. 
 
 ' Cannot /' 
 
 * Jjook here, Talbot ! I've thouglit it all over and over, and I 
 cannot. Honour forbids. Let mo explain. Vou see, while 
 wanderin.fi; jdiout here, I have fre(|nently fallen into the hands of 
 either iiarty, ami have often been in as gieat danger as now, yet 
 I have always escaped. More than this, 1 liave papeis front the 
 leading men of both sides, which testify to my characttn'. I am 
 therefore in honour bound never, under any circumstances, to 
 betray one Jiarty to the other, and that, too, no matter what my 
 own feelings n:a.y bo. I came hero as a neutral, a stranger, a cor- 
 respondent, to got information for the distant American public. 
 That is my business here. ]?ut the numu'nt [ l)ogin to betray 
 one of these parties to the other in any shape or way, the moment 
 I connnunicate to others the information Avhich I may have 
 gained in or ^tideuce, that moment I become an inforn.d scoundrel.' 
 
 ' True, Brooke, very true !' saiil Talbot ; ' but don't you see how 
 dilFerent this thing is ] Here is a party of travellers captured by 
 brigands, anil hekl to ransom. You are merely a.sked to show 
 the way to their prison, so that they may be set free by their 
 friends. What betrayal of contideuce is there in this V 
 
 ' I say that in any way in which T toll one of these parties 
 about the doings of the other, 1 betray the confidence which has 
 been placed in me.' 
 
 'And I say, Brooke, that if you leave these English ladies in 
 the hands of merciless villains to languish in captivity, to r,utlor 
 torment, and ^lerhaps to die a cruel death, you will be guilty of 
 an unpardonable sin — an olience so foul that it will haunt your 
 last hours !' 
 
 ' No woman,' said Brooke, • *vau understand a mans sense of 
 honour.' 
 
 ' Sir,' said Talbot, with indescribable haughtiness, * you forget 
 
A CASTLlf^N SPA/y. 
 
 1^3 
 
 cor- 
 uiic. 
 
 how 
 
 a by 
 
 show 
 their 
 
 les in 
 
 lutVer 
 
 Ity oi 
 
 your 
 
 ise of 
 
 'ort^et 
 
 I 
 
 my n.inio. Trust me, sir, no 'i'albot ever lived who failcil one jot 
 or tittle in the extroniest demand of honour. I, sir, am a 'I'alliot, 
 and havo no need to ^'o to you for infin'maiiou on points of 
 lionour. More than thin, [ .say that you are utterly wron;:,' ; and 
 that if you leave those iinj.^li.sh ladit'S in the hands of tlicsi! 
 Spanish misereants you will do foul ofhuuu', not only to tlio 
 honour of a ^^entleman, but even to tlie instincts of humanity.' 
 
 * Forj,dve me, 'I'albot,' said Ih-ooke meekly. '1 don't mean 
 wliat you think. When I spoke of a man's Hcsnse of honour, I 
 referred to l»is life of action, with all its conflict of duty and 
 honour, and all those cf)mplicated motives of which a woman in 
 lier retirement can know nothin<f.' 
 
 'Uelieve me, JJrooke,' said Talbot earnestly, ' women wlio arc 
 lookers-on are often better and safer jud,L"'M than men who are in 
 the midst of action. Tj'ust me, and take my advice iu this 
 matter. What ! is it ])ossil)le that you can have the heart to 
 leave these Knglish ladies to a fate of horror amoii;jf brii^'ands f 
 
 ' You ])ut it strongly, Talbot, but that is only a partial view. 
 In brief, you ask me to betray to the enemy a place which I may 
 inform you happens to be one of the cardinal points in the 
 strategy of the Carlist generals. [ do not know for certain that 
 the hidies are tiicre ; and if they are, I do not believe that they 
 will be badly treated. A ransom will perhaps be exacted, but 
 nothing more. On the whole, 1 should far rather fall into the 
 l«'^nds of the C'arlists than the J{epublicaiis. 'J'he Carlists are 
 generous mountaineers, the ])easantry of the North ; the Jiepub- 
 licans are the communist mobs of the Southern cities. 1 liave 
 seen very mucli of both sides, and think the Carlists bettc^r men 
 every way — more chivadrous, more merciful, and more religious. 
 I am not afraid about those jjrisoners. I feel convinced that 
 when the general hears of their capture he will se^ them free 
 himself,, At any rate, I cannot interfere. To do so woidd be a 
 hideous piece of treachery on my part. For me to betray to the 
 llepublicans this great and important Carlist fortix'ss, which has 
 become known to me by the favour and the confidence of the 
 Carlist chiefs, would be a thing of horror and dishonour. 1 would 
 die tirst, Talbot. So don't say any more. If anything could 
 make me false to my honour and duty, it would be your entreaties. 
 I may be wrong, after all, but I must act by my own sense of 
 right. Would you wish mc to save my life, 'uul always after- 
 ward hav ; the thought that I had stained my honour f 
 
 ' No, Brooke,' said Talbot ; ' and since you feel in this way I 
 will say no more about it.' 
 
 Silence now followed. Brooke seated himself on the floor with 
 his back against the wall, and Talbot stood looking at him as he 
 thus sat. 
 
 This man, who led a life which required some of the qualitiea 
 
 *•»«» 
 
124 
 
 A CASTLE LV SPALX. 
 
 of the hero, had nothing particularly heroic in his outward aspool . 
 He was a man of medium size, and sinewy, well-knit frame, lie 
 liad keen, gray eyes, which noticed everything, and could pene- 
 trate to the inner core of things ; close-cropped hair, short service- 
 able beard, of that style which is just now most atFected by men 
 of restless energy ; a short, straight nose, and a general air of 
 masterful self-restraint and self-possession. Not a handsome 
 man, strictly speaking, was our friend Brooke ; not by any means 
 a 'lady's man ;' but he was something better, inasmuch as he was 
 a manly man, one who would be trusted thoroughly and followed 
 blindly by other men, ay, and by women too ; for, after all, it k 
 not the lady's man who is appreciated by true women, but the 
 man's man. To such as these the best sort of women delight to 
 do reverence. Add to this Brooke's abrupt manner, rather haisli 
 voice, inconsequential talk, habit of saying one thing while think- 
 ing of something totally ditt'erent, love of drollery, and dry, short 
 laugh, and then you have Brooke complete, who is here described 
 simply because there has not be< ii any very convenient place for 
 describing him before. 
 
 Shortly after the examination of the prisoners, the greater ])art 
 of the band had gone away with the captain, and only half a 
 dozen men were left behind on guard. After Brooke had grown 
 tired of his own meditations, he wandered toward the window 
 and looked out. Here he stood watching the men below, and 
 studying their faces until he had formed his own conclusion as to 
 the character of each one. 
 
 * I'm trying,' said he to Talbot, who came near, * to find out 
 which one of these fellows is the most susceptible of bribery and 
 corruption. They're all a hard lot ; the trouble is that one 
 watches the other so closely that I can't get a fair chance.' 
 
 * I wonder where the others have gone,' said Talbot. 
 
 *0h, they've gone off to search for the prisoners, of course, 
 said Brooke. ' I don't believe they'll firi'I /'uy^^hing about them 
 on this road ; and as for the castle, the}'! ^ . unable to do any- 
 thing there unless they take cannon.' 
 
 At length the opportunity arrived for which Brooke had been 
 waiting. The guai'ds had wandered off to a little distance, and 
 only one man was left. He was just below at the door of the 
 mill. Brooke was glad to see that he was the ugliest of the lot, 
 and the very one wdiom he had mentally decided upon as being 
 the most corruptible. Upon this man he began to try his arts. 
 y ' Good-moi'niug, sefior,' said he insinuatingly. 
 [-. The man looked up in a surly way, and growled back something. 
 
 ' Do you smoke V asked Brooke. 
 
 The man grinned. 
 
 Upon this Brooke flung down a small piece of tobacco, and 
 then began to address himself to further conversation. But alas 
 
. been 
 
 beiug 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 125 
 
 aud 
 it alas 
 
 for his hopes ! lie had just begun to ask where the others had 
 gone aud where the man belonged, when a flash burst forth, and 
 a rifle ball sung past him through the window just above his 
 head. It was one of the other rufhans who had ilone this, who 
 at the same time advanced, and with an oath ordered Brooke to 
 hold no communication with the meu. 
 
 * I may stand at the window and look out, I suppose ]' said 
 Brooke coolly. 
 
 * We have orders to allow no communication with the prisoners 
 whatever. If you speak another word you'll get a bullet through 
 you.' 
 
 Upon this Brooke concluded that his plan was a failure. 
 
 Evening came at length, and the darkness deepened. The band 
 were still absent. The men below were perfectly quiet, and 
 seemed to be asleep. 
 
 ' I have a proposal to make,' said Talbot, ' which is worth some- 
 thing if you will only do it.' 
 
 ' What is that V 
 
 ' I have been thinking about it all day. It is this : Take this 
 priest's dress again, and go. The priest, you know, is not a 
 prisoner. He stays voluntarily. He has leave to go whenever 
 lie wishes. Now, you are the real priest, I am not. I am wear- 
 ing your dress. Take it back, and go.' 
 
 Brooke looked at her for a few minutes in silence. It was too 
 dark for her to see the look that he gave her. 
 
 At length, with his usual short laugh, he said : 
 
 * Well, that's a refreshing sort of a proposal to make, too, after 
 all that has passed between iii i' 
 
 ' Why not J' asked Talbot. * What objection is there to it V 
 ' Such a question,' saii Brooke, ' does not deserve an answer.' 
 ' My plan is feasible enough, and quite safe too.' 
 ' Nonsense ! And what, pray, is to become of you V 
 'Never mind that. Think of yourself, Brooke, for once in 
 
 your life. To stay here is certain death for you. This is your 
 
 very last chance.' 
 Brooke was silent for a little time. 
 ' Well,' said Talbot, ' will you go ?' 
 
 * Oh, Talbot ! Talbot !' cried Brooke ; ' how can you have the 
 heart to make such a proposal to me ? I have told you that the 
 only thing that moves me is the thought of your danger. Death 
 is nothing to me : I've faced it hundreds of times.' 
 
 ' It is preposterous to talk in that way !' said Talbot excitedly. 
 ' My danger ? I deny that there is any danger for me. As an 
 English lady, I shall be safe in any event. I'm sorry I ever took 
 this disguise. If you take it back you can go away now in 
 safety. When they find that you have gone, they may perhaps 
 threaten a little, but that is all. They will have nothing against 
 
126 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 me, and will, no doubt, set me free. This captain seems to be a 
 gentleman, and I should have no fear of him. I believe that after 
 the first exi:)lo3ion he would treat me with respect, and let me go.' 
 i ' And so you would really let me go V said 13rooke, after a long 
 pause, in a very low voice. 
 
 ' Gladly, gladly,' said Talbot. 
 
 *Aud stay here alone, in a new character, ignorant of the 
 lauftuaffe, to face the return of the mad and furious crowd V 
 
 * Yes.' 
 
 * They would tear you to pieces !' cried Brooke. 
 
 * They would rot.' 
 ' They would.' 
 
 ' Then let them. I can die,' said Talbot calmly. 
 
 * And die for me V 
 
 * Yes, rather than let you die for me.' 
 
 * And you think I am capable of going away ]' said Brooke, in 
 a faltering voice. 
 
 At this Talbot was utterly silent. Neither spoke a word for a 
 long time. 
 
 ' Talbot, lad,' said Brooke at length, in a gentle voice. 
 
 ' Well, Brooke !' 
 
 ' I am glad that I met with you.' 
 
 ' Are you, Brooke V 
 
 ' I should like to live,' he continued, in a far-off tone, like one 
 soliloquizing, * after having met with you ; but if I cannot live, I 
 shall be glad to think that I have ever known you.' 
 
 Talbot said nothing to this, and there was another long silence. 
 
 ' By-the-b3'e,' said Brooke at last, ' I should like to tell you 
 something, Talbot, in case you should ever happen to meet with 
 a certain friend of mine — you might mention how you met with 
 me, and so on.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Talbot, in a low voice. 
 
 * This friend,' said Brooke, ' is a girl.' 
 He paused. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Talbot, in the same voice. 
 
 ' It was in Cuba that I met with her. Her name is Dolores.' 
 
 ' Dolores — what V 
 
 ' Dolores Garcia.' 
 
 ' I shall remember the name.' 
 
 * I was correspondent there, in just such a country as this, 
 between two hostile forces. One evening I came to a place where 
 a gang of insurgent Cubans were engaged in the pleasing task of 
 burning a house. As it happened, I was wearing the dress) 
 common to the insurgents, and passed for one of themselves. 
 Pressing into the house, I found two ladies— a young girl and 
 her mother— in an agony of terror, surrounded by a howling 
 crowd of ruffians. In a few words I managed to assure them of 
 
 i 
 
A CASTLE LY SPAIN. 
 
 my help. I succeeded in personating a Cuban leader, and in 
 getting them away. Then I passed through the crowd outside, 
 and, getting horses, I hurried the ladies off. Eventually we all 
 reached Havana in safety. I learned that an attack had been 
 made on the plantation, that Seuor Garcia had been killed, and 
 that as I came up the gang was plundering the place and threaten- 
 ing to destroy the women. 
 
 • Gratitude had the effect of making this young girl Dolores 
 most devotedly attached to me. In the course of our journey 
 she evinced her affection in a thousand ways. She was very 
 young, and very beautiful, and I could not help loving her. I 
 was also deeply moved by her passionate love for me, and so I 
 asked her to be my wife, and she consented. After reaching 
 Havana, Spanish manners did not allow of our seeing much of 
 one another. Shortly afterward I had to return to the seat of 
 war to finish my engagement, and bade her good-bye for two or 
 three months. I expected at the end of that time to return to 
 Havana and marry her. 
 
 ' Well, I went away and heard nothing more from her. At 
 the end of that time I returned, when, to my amazement, I 
 learned that she had gone to Spain, and found a letter from her 
 which gave me the whole rea: u for her departure. I had told 
 her before that I myself was going to Spain in the course of 
 another year, so she expressed a hope of seeing me there. The 
 place to which she was going was Pampeluna. I've already tried 
 to find her there, but in vain. The fact is, things have been so 
 disturbed about here, that people have changed their abodes, and 
 can no longer be traced ; and so I have never come upon the 
 track of Dolores. And I mention this to you, Talbot, so that if 
 you should ever, by any chance, happen to meet her, you may 
 tell her that you saw me, and that 1 had been hunting after her 
 all through Spain. I dare say it will soothe her, for she loved me 
 most passionately, and must often have wondered why I never 
 came for her. In fact, she was so gentle, so delicate, so sensitive, 
 and yet so intense in her feelings, that I have often feared that 
 the idea of my being false might have been too much for her 
 loving heart, and may have cut short her young life.' 
 
 After the conclusion of this stoiy, Talbot asked many questions 
 about Dolores, and the conversation gradually changed, until at 
 length it came round to the cross-questioning of Lopez which 
 Talbot had undergone. 
 
 ' I have never told you,' said she, ' about my own errand here 
 in this country ; and as this may be our last conversation, I 
 should like very much to tell you all' 
 
 Thus this confidence of Brooke's led to a similar act on the 
 part of Talbot, who now related to him her own history. As 
 this has been already set forth from the lips of Harry Kivers, it 
 
11 
 
 128 
 
 A CAS TLB IN SPAIN. 
 
 need not be repeated here. Brooke listened to it in silence. At 
 the close lie merely remarked : 
 
 ' Well, Talbot, we've now made our final confessions. This is 
 our last interview. And I feel sad, not, my lad, at the thought 
 of death, but at the thought of leaving you among these villains. 
 My only thought is what will become of you.' 
 
 ' It's strange,' [said Talbot, in a musing tone, * very strange. 
 All this that I have been telling you seems now removed back 
 away to a far, far distant past. It is as though it all happened in 
 a previous state of existence.' 
 
 'I dai-e say,' said Brooke. * Oh yes; you see you've been 
 having a precious hard time of it.' 
 
 ' Yes,' mused Talbot. ' Fear, hope, suspense, shame, grief, 
 despair ; then fear, suspense, and despair ; then hope and joy, 
 followed again by despair. So it has been, and all in a few days. 
 Brooke, I tell you I am another person altogether from that girl 
 who left her home so short a time ago. Miss Talbot — where is 
 she ? I am the lad Talbot — comrade of a brave man — fighting 
 with him for my life, and now along with him resting in the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death.' 
 
 * Bosh !' said Brooke, in a husky, choking voice. 
 
 He muttered a few unintelligible words, and then ceased. 
 ' Death is near, Brooke — very near ; I feel it. ' 
 
 * Talbot,' said Brooke, with something like a groan, * talk of 
 something else.' 
 
 ' It's near to you.' 
 'Well, what if it is]' 
 
 * And it's near to me.' 
 
 ' It's not ; I tell you it's not,' cried Brooke excitedly. 
 
 * It was the old fashion of chivalry, upheld by all the Talbots, 
 that the page or the squire should never survive the chief. I'm 
 a Talbot. Do you understand me, Brooke V 
 
 ' If they did so,' cried Brooke, in stronger excitement, * they 
 were a pack of cursed fools. 
 
 ' " He tliat fights and runs away 
 May live to fight another day." 
 
 That's my motto.' 
 
 * Do you think I'll survive you V asked Talbot, taking no notice 
 of Brooke's words. 
 
 Brooke gave a wild laugh. 
 
 * You'll have to, my boy — you'll have to.' 
 
 * I'm your page, your vassal,* said she. "I'm a Talbot. We've 
 exchanged arms. I've flung away the girl life. I'm a boy — the 
 lad Talbot. We're brothers in arms, for good or evil, Brooke.' 
 
 Brooke began to whistle, and then murmured some words like 
 these : 
 
A CASTLE IN 3PA/X. 
 
 129 
 
 At 
 
 *Non ego porfidum 
 Dixi sacramentum : ibimus, ibimus, 
 Utcunque prrocodos, suprcmum 
 Carpcrc iter comites pavati.* 
 
 ' What do you say ?' asked Talbot. 
 
 ' Oh, 'nothing,' said Brooke ; * dog Latiu — some rubbish from 
 Horace. Allow me, however, to remark, that all thid talk about 
 death seems to me to be cursed bad taste.' 
 
 After this he began to whistle a tune. Suddenly he held up 
 his hand so as to display the ring. 
 
 * Who gavj you this ]' he asked carelessly. 
 
 * Mr. Rivers,' said Talbot simply. ' It was our engagement 
 ring.* 
 
 Brooke gave his usual short laugh, and subsided into silence. 
 
 ' they 
 
 notice 
 
 U like 
 
 CHAPTER XXTV. 
 
 IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT STAND FACE TO FACE WITH 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 This was to be to Brooke his last day in life. The thought of 
 this was ever present to both of them. The band would probably 
 return during the night, and in the morning the last scene would 
 be enacted. In the few days in which these two had known each 
 other they had been compelled to undergo great variations of 
 feeling, and had come to learn each other's inmost nature more 
 thoroughly and intimately by far than could have occurred after 
 years of ordinaiy social intercourse. Together they had faced 
 danger and death ; together they had endured hope and fear, 
 hunger and weariness, sorrow and despair. The feelings of each 
 had been stirred to the uttermost depth. Strong natures were 
 they, both of them ; and they both were capable of self-control, 
 and they each knew how to wear an aspect of calmness while all 
 the time the soul within was in a tumult of terror or distress. 
 This night was to be the last on earth to one of them, perhaps to 
 both. So they said but little. They could but sit in silence, and 
 think, and feel, and suffer. 
 
 At midnight there was a wild clamour outside. The band had 
 returned. The prisoners went to the window, and there, standing 
 side by side, they looked out. Brooke thought that his hour 
 might even now be at hand, and the same fear occurred to Talbot. 
 Neither spoke. So for a long time they stood watching, listening, 
 until at last the sounds died away, all movement ceased, and all 
 was still. The men had gone to rest, and they now knew that 
 there would be a respite until morning. They stood looking out 
 into the night. If a thought of flight had ever occurred to either 
 
 9 
 
 11: 
 
130 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 of then), llicy could now see that such a thing was impossiUo. 
 For they were environed with guanls ; and in the room below 
 and on the grass outside the followers of Lopez lay between theui 
 and liberty. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said Talbot, * if you were now alone 1 know very well 
 what you would do.' 
 
 ' What V 
 
 ' You would draw your revolver, jump down, burst through 
 the midst of these men, and escape. Why not do so uow V 
 
 Brooke gave a short laugh. 
 
 * Do ! Leave me ! Fly ! They cannot blame me if you fight 
 your way through them. Better to die fighting thau be shot 
 down helplessly.' 
 
 * If I did so, they'd take out their vengeance on you.' 
 ' They would not.' 
 
 'They would.' 
 
 * Then you stay for me !' 
 'Yes.' 
 
 Talbot drew a long breath. 
 
 * You are bent on dying, Brooke, not to save me, but merely to 
 prevent them from being too hard to me.' 
 
 * They will let you go,'" said Brooke. ' They will be satisfied— 
 when I am gone.' 
 
 Talbot seized his hands in a convulsive grasp. 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke !' she groaned. ' Can nothing move you ? What 
 is life worth to me at such a cost ? Oh, Brooke, fly ! Leave me. 
 Fight your way out. I will follow you.' 
 
 * You cannot. If you tried, you would be sure to be captured. 
 I might escape, as you say, but you could not.' 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke, try— fly ! Oh, I could kill myself rather than 
 endui'e this any longer.' 
 
 ' Talbot !' said Brooke, suddenly shaking her off. 
 
 'What, Brooke?' 
 
 ' You're a fool !' 
 
 *Yes, Brooke.' 
 
 ' You're a fool !' he repeated, in a voice that sounded like a gasj). 
 • Why will you persist in talking in this way, and blight and 
 shatter all my strength of soul ? It's too late, ] tell you. I will 
 not. I will not do anything that can expose you to fresh danger ; 
 your peril is great enough now, but there is a bare chance for you 
 if nothing ha]Dpens. When they have got one life they may fed 
 inclined to spare the other.' 
 
 ' Never !' said Talbot. ' They shall not. I will not have it.' 
 
 ' You must !' said Brooke fiercely. 
 
 ' I tell you I will not !' cried Talbot in a passionate voice. 
 
 * D— u you !' roared Brooke. * I tell you you must, and you 
 shall r 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 131 
 
 isible. 
 below 
 . them 
 
 y well 
 irou^li 
 
 u figlit 
 le sliot 
 
 lerely to 
 tisfied— 
 
 \ Wli;it 
 ave me. 
 
 jtureil. 
 
 er than 
 
 a gas\), 
 ht aud 
 I will 
 
 ilaugev ; 
 for you 
 
 iiay feel 
 
 ^e it.' 
 
 pe. 
 
 Lud you 
 
 At this there was a noise below. Some of the guard had 
 awi^keued. Brooke drew a long brcatli, aud retreated from the 
 wiudow iuto the darkuess. Talbot weut after hiui. 
 
 'Talbot,' said Brooke, iu a voice that was strangely sweet yet 
 unutterably sad — * Talbot, do you want to break my heart /' 
 
 'Brooke,' said Talbot, in a low, thrilling tone, ' is it youy heart 
 only, do you think, that is now almost breaking V 
 
 After this there was a deep silence, broken only by their own 
 quick breathing. Brooke felt a hand in his. He caught it in a 
 convulsive grasp ; and the two hands clung to each other, and 
 throbbed with the vehement pulsations of two hearts that now 
 beat with intensest feeling. 
 
 * Let me go,' wailed Brooke at last, snatching his hand away. 
 He gasped for breath. He retreated farther into the darkness. 
 Talbot stood motionless and trembling. There was silence again 
 for a long time. It was at last broken by Brooke. 
 
 ' Come, Talbot,' he said, with feverish rapidity and a wretched 
 assumption of carelessness. ' Let's engage iu conversation. AVhat 
 shall we talk about ? The weather ] Or the crops I Or shall wo 
 talk politics % By-the-bye, can't you sing something ? I tell you 
 what — it isn't fair. You make me do all the singing. But I 
 don't mind. You're a good listener, at any rate. If you like I'll 
 sing a hymn.' And he began, singing through his nose : 
 
 ' Oh, a maiden she lived in the south countrio, 
 And a werry fine maid, my boy, was she, 
 For her hair was as red as red can bo ; 
 So off wo go to Marymashce. 
 
 ' And a jolly young cove fell in love with she. 
 Says he, " My lass, will you marry me ?" 
 One foot up and t'other toot down, 
 And away wc travel to London town.' 
 
 Again there was a sound below. Brooke's song had roused the 
 guard. Talbot gave a wild start. 
 
 ' They're coming !' she gasped iu a tone of horror. ' They're 
 coming — at last. They won't wait 1' 
 
 'Pooh I' said Brooke, whose voice by this time had regained its 
 old careless ring ; and he whined on : 
 
 ' Cats don't come at half-past eight 
 Tap -tap-tapping at tho garding gate 1' 
 
 Talbot gave a sigh that sounded like a groan. The sounds 
 below subsided, and all was still once more. iSo the night passed. 
 Morning came. A man l)rought up bread and wine ; but now 
 there was no thought of eating, even for the sake of saving 
 strength. Neither one spoke, nor did either venture to look at 
 the other. 
 
 9—2 
 
132 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 
 At length they were Rummoned outside. Lopez was there, 
 with half-a-dozeu meu around him. Farther away were the rest 
 of the men, watching tlie scene. On the right were a dozen nun 
 with rifles. Brooke was as cool as usual. Talbot was calm, but 
 deathly pale. 
 
 ' Sefior Brooke,' said Lopez, * I am a man of but few wordn, and 
 few need now be said. I have given you a long respite— louocr 
 than I said. What is your decision ? Will you go with us and 
 show us where the Carlists took the English ladies V 
 
 * Senor Captiau,' said Brooke calmly, ' I am quite unable to give 
 you any information about the ladies. I don't see what I can do.' 
 
 ' Lead us to the place,' said Lopez. 
 Brooke shook his head. 
 
 * I can't say any more,' said he. 
 
 'Very well,' said Lopez quietly. * Then you must die.' 
 
 * You can certainly kill me, Seiior Captain ; but what good will 
 that do V 
 
 * Oh, no particular good,' said Lopez ; * but the law is that spies 
 shall be shot at once, and I merely gave you a chance. You're 
 a bold fellow, and I should like to spare you — that's all.' 
 
 * Thanks, Seiior Captain. And may 1 make one request V 
 
 * Name it, seiior.' 
 
 * This young priest is free, is he not V 
 'Certainly.' 
 
 * You will suflfer him to go without molestation.' 
 
 * Certainly.' 
 
 * He is young, and a stranger in the country. He doesn't know 
 a word lof the language, and is in despair about — about nie. 
 Would it be possible for him to procure a guide for pai't of the 
 way, at least to Vittoria, or some nearer railway station ]' 
 
 * I will furnish him with one,' said Lopez, ' all the way.' 
 ' Thank you, senor,' said Brooke. 
 
 * Seiior,' said Lopez, * it pains me deeply to see you rush on to 
 destruction.' 
 
 * Seuor Captain,' said Brooke, * you are a man of honour aud 
 generosity. I wish I could do what you ask.' 
 
 Lopez shrugged his shoulders. Then he sighed. Then he took 
 a final look at Brooke. After this he motioned to two of liis 
 men. These two came forward and led Brooke to a place op])o- 
 site the file of armed men. One of the men offered to bind liisi 
 eyes, but Brooke motioned him away. 
 
 * I don't want it,' said he. 
 
 As V ^ said this, Talbot came up and stood by his side. Lopez 
 walked down toward the file of men aud stood at a point on oue 
 side, half-way between the condemned and the soldiers. 
 
 * Talbot,' said Brooke, in a low voice, * go away.' 
 
 * Brooke,' said Talbot, * will you not live V 
 
A CASTLE m SPAfX. 
 
 133 
 
 ' Wiut ! iu cUshononr ?' 
 
 ' Oh, my God !' groaned Talbot. ' What shall I do ? He will 
 die— and I've killed him !' 
 
 ' Talbot/ said Brooke, in a husky and unsteady voice, ' go away. 
 You'll make me die two deaths. You are safe. Lopez has pro- 
 mised to send a guide with you to Vittoria.' 
 
 ' A guide V said Talbot, in a strange voice, 
 
 ' Think of me — sometimes,' stammered Brooke. 
 
 Talbot turned and looked at him. Brooke saw the look and all 
 that was conveyed iu it, and then obstinately shut his eyes. 
 
 Lopez now turned to see if the two friends had said their last 
 say. He saw a singular sight. The ' priest * was standing directly 
 iu front of Brooke, and facing the file of soldiers. At that mo- 
 ment also Brooke opened his eyes again and saw Talbot in front 
 of him. 
 
 He stepped forward and seized her arm. 
 
 'Oh, Talbot! oh, Talbot!' he groaned. 'This is worse than 
 death. Why will you torment me I' 
 
 Talbot shook him off. Brooke threw a despairing look at the 
 captain, and shrank back. Talbot folded her arms and stood 
 iu front of him. 
 
 Had she only been able to speak Spanish she would have told 
 them all — how this man had run into danger on her account, 
 how he was now dying through her, how she was resolved to die 
 either for him or with him. She would have told them all that, 
 but that would not have revealed the half of all the eloquent 
 story which stood unfolded in her attitude and in her face. 
 
 She stood erect, her arms folded on her breast, facing thus the 
 file of soldiers. Her look, however, was as though she saw them 
 not. Her eyes were turned toward them, yet their gaze was 
 fixed on vacancy. She thus showed her face — looking thus with 
 steadfast eyes — a calm face, serene, tranquil, white as marble, and 
 as motionless. All that Brooke had seen there, which had made 
 liim think of the Angel Gabriel, and all that Lopez had seen there 
 which made him think of the Apostle John, was now clearly 
 manifest in that noble and expressive countenance. It was the 
 face of a pure, a lofty, an exalted nature, full of profoundest feel- 
 ing and matchless self-control — the face of one who was resolved 
 to die, the face of a martyr, the face of one who was standing in 
 full view of Death, who was waiting for his approach, and was 
 undismayed. 
 
 As for Brooke, he at last experienced all that he had dreaded. 
 He was utterly overcome. White, ghastly, trembling from head 
 to foot, he stared at Talbot with something like horror in his 
 face, yet he could not move. He stood shuddering, and speech- 
 less. At such an astonishing and unexpected spectacle the 
 very soldiers gazed iu awe. Hardened as they were, there was 
 
 % 
 
134 
 
 A CASTA/; LV SPALV. 
 
 BOinetliing in Talbot's doteriuiiied self-sacrifice, and in Brooko'n 
 m.'uiifc.st iuiguish of soul, which overcame them all, and hushed 
 them all alike into wonder and silence. All eyes were fixed on 
 the two who thus stood before the file of soldiers. At lenf,'lh 
 there arose raurnmrs ; strani,'e murmurs, indeed, to come from 
 such men, for they indicated pity and compassion. 
 
 Upon Lopez the clFect of all this was overwhelminfj. lie had 
 seen it from the beginnin;?. lie saw the face of Talbot, the 
 ngony of Brooke. At first there was only wonder in his looks!, 
 then came profound agitation. His sword dropped from his 
 hand. Ho turned away. Now, as he thus turned away, had lio 
 encountered fierce, cruel, blood-thirsty faces, he might have conio 
 back to his first resolve, and recovered from the emotion which 
 was unmanning him ; but the faces of his men were full of j)ity 
 and of wonder. His fierce followers were themselves overcome, 
 and thus the agitation of Lopez was heightened. 
 
 ' I am a soldier,' ho cried ; ' I am not a bandit. I am not a 
 cut-throat. It's all very well for us to kill our enemies in battle, 
 but, my lads, to kill people in this way is butchery, and if they 
 want butchers they'll have to get others. I must talk to these 
 men again, especially to this est.' 
 
 With 'hese words Captaij ez dismissed his men and then 
 
 turned to Brooke. 
 
 * Sefior,' said he, ' I have some more questions to ask. I will 
 therefore postpone proceedings until after further examination.' 
 
 Talbot understood the actions of Lopez, and comprehended the 
 meaning of his words. There was an immense revulsion of feel- 
 ing within hei' — from that preparation for death to this restora- 
 tion to life ; yet so ]3erfect was her self-control that she lost not 
 one wit of her caution, and vigilance, and outwai'd calm. She 
 did not trust herself to look at Brooke. She merely turned away 
 and stood with her eyes fixed on the ground. Brooke stood 
 watching her with a haggard stare. lie did not look at Lopez ; 
 but as he caught his words he muttered something in reply which 
 was unintelligible to Lopez, and quite incoherent in itself. 
 
 The prisoners were now conducted back again to their place of 
 confinement. Here at last, removed from all strange eyes, the 
 fortitude of Talbot, so long sustained, gave way utterly. Under 
 the pressure of so tremendous a reaction her womanly nature 
 reasserted itself. She fell prostrate upon the floor, and lay there, 
 overwhelmed by a vehement passion of tears. As for Brooke, 
 he dared not trust himself to soothe her ; he dared not even so 
 much as look at her, but seated himself as far away as possible 
 and buried his face in his hands. 
 
A CAST/ J' /X SPA/X. 
 
 135 
 
 tllG 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IN WHICH BROOKE S1N(}>J AND TALKS iN A LIGHT AND 
 TrtIFMN(t MANNKU. 
 
 BiiooKE and Talbot had tlui.s einor/:;(>(l from tlio Valley of tlio 
 Shadow of Death, but that .shadow still iv.nted tipontheni. Their 
 fiiuldeu deliverauco had left them both alike overwhelmed ; and 
 as they stood a))art, not speaking, not even lookiniij at ono 
 another, there was a strngi,de in the niiml of cadi which niado 
 it hard indeed for them to retrain any kind of self-control. Tho 
 vision of death which had l)een before them had disclosed to 
 each the inmost soul of the other, and ha<l led to revelations of 
 feeling that might not have been made nnder any otlu^r circum- 
 stances. They had both alike expected death ; they hail sai<l 
 to cue another their last and truest words ; they had given ex- 
 pression to their most secret and sacred contidonces ; they had 
 bidden their most solemn and most tender farewells ; but tho 
 moment wliich had threatened to be the last of life, had 
 passed aw;iy leaving them still in the land of the living — leaving 
 them together as before, bound by the new and imperishable tio 
 of a common memory, for neither could forget all that hail been 
 said, and felt, and done by the other. 
 
 After the events of the morning, Lopez had gone away with 
 tho greater part of his followers, leaving behind a guard of 
 about half a dozen, as before. The noise of these movements had 
 aroused the two prisoners, and they had gone to the window to 
 look out, seeking rather to distract their thoughts tliiin to satisfy 
 anything like curiosity. From this window they ha<l watched 
 these proceedings in silence, standing close beside each other, with 
 their eyes turned to the scene outside, but with thoughts wander- 
 ing elsewhere. At length all liad gone exce])t tho guard, and tho 
 last of the band had been swallowed up by the intervening hills. 
 There was nothing more to be seen outside, or to serve as a ])re- 
 tence for keeping their looks from following their thoughts. 
 
 Their eyes met. It was a deep and an eloquent look, full of 
 nnuttered meaning, which each turned upon the other ; and 
 each seemed to read in the eyes of the other all the secrets of 
 the heart ; and standing thus, they looked into one another's 
 hearts. 
 
 It was Brooke who spoke first. 
 
 ' I wonder,' said he, in a low, gentle voice — ' I wonder, Talbot, 
 if you liad that look when you placed yourself in front of me 
 and faced their levelled rifles. If so, Talbot, lad, I don't 
 wonder that the soldiers paused ; for they say that the calm eye 
 of man can tame the wild beast or the fury of the maniac ; and so 
 
136 
 
 A CASTLE L\ SPALY. 
 
 your eyes tamed the macliies^its of these fierce rufluins, Wiis your 
 look tlieii, Talbot, as calm and as tinn as it is now V 
 
 * It was lixed,' sail Talbot in a gentle voice, ' unalterably. But 
 it was not their vlile;^ that I saw ; it seemed tlien as though I saw 
 the other wf^ild.' 
 
 A short silence followed, and then Brooke spoke again, in a 
 voice which was very weak and tremulous. 
 
 ' And you, Talbot, stood before their bullets, ofTering your life 
 for mine !' 
 
 The accents of his voice seemed to quiver with suppressed 
 passion and infinite tenderness. 
 
 ' Tt was only a fair exchange,' said Talbot slowly ; and her voice 
 thrilled as she spoke through the heart of Brooke as he went ovt^v 
 to her to listen ; ' for you were giving up your own life for me.' 
 
 There was silence now for some time, during whicli their eyes 
 were fastened upon one another. At length Brooke drew a long 
 lu'eath, and turned away. Then he began abruptly to sing one 
 of his droll songs. Ilis voice was faint at lirst, but grew stronger 
 as he weut ou: 
 
 • " Billy Taylor was a gay young rover, 
 Ful' of mirth and full of gleo ; 
 And bis mind bo did discover 
 To a maid of low degree. 
 
 Kite follalol-lol-lol-lol-lido, 
 Kite follalol-lol-lol-lol-lay.' " 
 
 ' You see,' continued he, ' my way is to sing while I can. 
 There are too many times in life when you can't sing " Billy 
 Taylor." Then you may retire to your corner, and wear sack- 
 cloth and ashes. Such a time is coming, Talbot, lad, when the 
 strain of " Billy Taylor" shall be heard no more. But so long as 
 I can I'll sing : 
 
 * " But this maiden bad a paricnt, 
 AVbo was very stern to she, 
 ' Fly, ob, lly, my dearest darter, 
 From tbe wiles of your Billee I' 
 Kite follalol-lol-lol-lol-lido, 
 Kite follalol-lol-lol-lol-lay.'" 
 
 During this little diversion of Brooke's, Talbot said notliiug. 
 It was, as he said, his way,and Talbot had grown accustomed to it. 
 A long silence followed, after which Brooke once more addressed 
 her. 
 
 * Talbot,' said he, ' we have been acquainted only two or three 
 days, and we have told one another all that is in our hearts. So 
 it seems as if we had been friends for a long time. Yes, Talbot ; 
 if I were to count over all the friends of all my life, T could not 
 find one like you— no, not one. And now, if we both escape and 
 
A CASTLF. TN SPAIN. 
 
 m 
 
 yon go back to your people, liow strange it will be nevoi' to meet 
 
 again. 
 
 king, 
 to it. 
 3sed 
 
 liree 
 So 
 
 bot ; 
 
 luot 
 mcl 
 
 ' Never to meet again !' repeated Talbot ; and an expression as 
 of sharp and sudden ]iain flashed over her face. * You do not 
 mean to say tliat you will never come to me ^ 
 
 'Come ti) you !' repeated lUooke, and he gave that short latigli 
 of his. 'Uhyes — Ell come, of course, and I'll leave my card ; 
 and perhaps you'll be "not at home," or perhaps I'll be asked 
 to call again ; or i)erhaps ' 
 
 Talbot smiled, and Brooke, catching her eye, smiled also, and 
 stopped abru[)tly. 
 
 Then followed another silence, which, licwever, unlike most of 
 such ])eriods, was not at all embarrassing. 
 
 ' Have you noticed,' said Talbot, at length, * that they have left 
 the same small guard which they left before X 
 
 * Oh yes ; but what of that X 
 
 ' Don't you think that now, after wliat has happened, they 
 miglit be far less strict, and be open to a moderate bribe V 
 
 ' Bribe % And why /' asked Brooke. 
 
 ' Why ? wiiy ?' repeated Talbot in surprise. ' Why, to escape 
 — to get our freedon).' 
 
 * But suppose I don't want my freedom ?' said Brooke. 
 
 ' Not want it ? What do you mean \ Do you suppose that I 
 may not be strong enough for the journey ? Don't be afraid of 
 that. I feel strong enough now for any ellbrt. I'll fly with you 
 — anywhere, Brooke.' 
 
 ' Fly ?' said Brooke ; ' fly ? What, and take you to your 
 friends % And then what \ Why, then — a long good-bye ! 
 Talbot, I'm too infernal selfish. I'll tell you a secret. Now that 
 the worst is over — now that there doesn't seem to be any real 
 clanger — I'll confess that I enjoy this. I don't want it to end. 
 I feel not only like singing, but like dancing. I want to bo 
 always living in a tower, or an old windmill, or anywhere — so 
 long as I can look up and see you, I don't want anything more 
 iu the world. And when I look up and see Talbot no more — why 
 then I'll stop singing. For what will life be worth then, when 
 all its sunlight, and bloom, and sweetness, and joy are over, and 
 when they are all past and gone for ever ] Life ! why, Talbot, 
 lad, I never began to know what life could be till I saw you ; 
 anil do you ask me now to put a,i end to our friendship ?' 
 
 This was what Brooke said, and then he tui'ued oil" into a song : 
 
 ' " Then this maiden wiped lior eyelids 
 Willi her pocket-lia'ulkercheo ; 
 'Though I g"ow a jailer spinster 
 I will sliclc to ray liilleo !' 
 
 llitc follalol-lul-lol-lol-lido, 
 liite ibllalol-lol-lol-lol-lay.' " 
 
138 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 After this there followed another prolonged silence. Talbot 
 was now the first to speak. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said she, in her low, soft, tremuloua voice, which had 
 died down almost to a whisper, *we know the secrets of one 
 another's hearts. Oh, Brooke ! Brooke ! why have we never 
 met before 1 Oh, Brooke ! how strangely we have drifted to- 
 gether ! How much we have learned about each other ! Is 
 Fate so bitter as to make us drift away, after — after ' 
 
 Her voice died away altogether, and she turned her face aside 
 and bowed down her head. Brooke looked at her 'for a moment, 
 and seemed about to take her hand, but he conquered this im- 
 pulse and resolutely averted his eyes. 
 
 ' Don't know, I'm sure,' said he at last, with an aflfectation of 
 airy indifference. ' It would take a man with a head as long as 
 a horse to answer such a question as that. Talbot, lad, you 
 shouldn't plunge so deep into the mysteries of being.' 
 
 After this there was another silence, and then Talbot looked up 
 at Brooke with her deep, dark glance, and began to speak in a 
 calm voice, which, however, did not fail to thrill through the heart 
 of Brooke as he listened. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said she, * you have your own way. Your way is to 
 conceal a most tender and pitying heart under a rough, or, at 
 least, an indifferent manner — to hide the deepest feeling under a 
 careless smile, and pretend to be most volatile and flippant when 
 you are most serious. You can perform heroic actions as though 
 they were the merest trifles, and lay down you life for a friend 
 with an idle jest. You make nothing of yourself and all of others. 
 You can suffer, and pretend that you enjoy it ; and when your 
 heart is breaking, you can force your voice to troll out verses 
 from old songs as though your chief occupation in life were non- 
 sense, and that alone. And this is the man,' continued Talbot iu 
 a dreamy tone, like that of one soliloquizing — ' this is the man 
 that I found by chance in my distress ; the man that responded 
 to my very first appeal by the offer of his life ; that went into 
 the jaws of death merely to bring me food ; the man that gave 
 up all the world for me — his duty, his love, his life ; the man 
 that has no other purpose now but to save me, and who, when 
 his whole frame is quivering with anguish, can smile, and sing, 
 and ' 
 
 * Well, what of it ?' interrupted Brooke harshly. * What of it, 
 oh, thou searcher of hearts ? And, moreover, as to nonsense, 
 don't you know what the poet says ? 
 
 '" A little nonsense now and then 
 Is relished by the wisest men." 
 
 Moreover, and, yea more, as to smiles and laughter, don't you 
 know what another poet says ] — Shakespeare, for instance : 
 
Talbot 
 
 ch had 
 of one 
 never 
 bed to- 
 r ! li^ 
 
 ;e aside 
 lomeut, 
 bis im- 
 
 ition o£ 
 long as 
 id, yea 
 
 oked up 
 ak in a 
 he heart 
 
 'ay is to 
 ti, or, at 
 under a 
 ,nt when 
 i though 
 a friend 
 if others, 
 en your 
 it verses 
 ere nou- 
 'albot in 
 the man 
 [spondod 
 lent into 
 lat gave 
 the man 
 p, when 
 id siug, 
 
 lat of it, 
 Lonseuse, 
 
 )u't you 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 139 
 
 ' " 'Tis better to laugh tlian be sighing ;" 
 
 or, as Lord Bacon, or Plato, or somebody else says, " Laugh and 
 grow fat." And didn't John Buuyau prefer the House of Mirth 
 to the House of Mourning i 
 
 ' " John Banyan was a tinker bold, 
 His name wo all delight in ; 
 All day ho tinkered pots and pans, 
 All night he stuck to writin'. 
 
 ' " In Bedford streets bold Johnny toiled. 
 An ordinary tinker ; 
 In Bedford jail bold Johnny wrote — 
 Old England's wisest thinker. 
 
 '" About the Pilgrims Johnny wrote, 
 Who wade the emigration ; 
 And the Pilgrim Fathers they became 
 Of the glorious Yankee nation. 
 
 ' " Ad urbem ivit Doodlius cum 
 Caballo et calone, 
 Ornavit pluma pilcum 
 Et dixit : — Macaroni I" 
 
 Excuse me,' he continued ; ' you don't understand dog-Latin, do 
 you, Talbot V 
 * No,' said she with a smile, ' but I understand you, Brooke.' 
 ' Well,' said Brooke, ' but apart from the great question of one 
 another which is just now fixing us on the rack, or on the wheel, 
 or pressing us to any other kind of torment, and considering the 
 great subject of mirthfulness merely in the abstract, do you not 
 see how true it is that it is and must be the salt of life, that it 
 preserves all living men from sourness, and decay, and moral 
 death? Now, there's Watts, for instance— Isaac Watts, you 
 know, author of that gi'eat work, " Watts's Divine Hymns 
 and Spiritual Songs for Infant Minds," or it may have been 
 " Watts's Divine Songs and Spiritual Hymns for Infant Mind." 
 I really don't remember. It's of no consequence. Now, what 
 was Watts ? Why, on my side altogether. Head his works. 
 Consult him in all emergencies. If anythiug's on your mind, go 
 and find Watts on the mind. It'll do you good. And as the 
 song says : 
 
 "• Oh, tho Reverend Isaac Watts, D.D., 
 Was a M'onderful boy at rhyme ; 
 So let every old bachelor fill up his glass 
 And go in for a glorious time. 
 
 Chorus, — Lot dogs delight 
 To bark and bite, 
 But we'll bo jolly, my lads, to-night." ' 
 
 During this las', little diversion Brooke never turned his eyes 
 toward Talbot. She was close by his side ; but he stood looking 
 
140 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 I '■ 
 
 ii 
 
 out of the window, and in that attitude kept rattling on in his 
 most nonsensical way. It was only in this one fact of his care- 
 ful manner of eluding the grasp, so to speak, of Talbot's eyes, 
 that an observer might discern anything but the most careless 
 gaiety. To Talbot, however,' there was something beneath all 
 this, which was very plainly visible ; and to her, with her pro- 
 found insight into Brooke's deeper nature, all this nonsense 
 offered nothing that was repellent ; on the contrary, she found it 
 most touching and most sad. It seemed to her like the effort of 
 a strong man to rid himself of an overmastering feeling — a feel- 
 ing deep within him that struggled forever upward and would 
 not be repressed. It rose up constantly, seeking to break through 
 all bounds ; yet still he struggled against it ; and still, as he felt 
 liimself grow weaker in the conflict, he sought refuge in fresh out- 
 bursts of unmeaning words. But amidst it all Talbot saw nothing 
 except the man who had gone forth to die for her, and in all his 
 words heard nothing except the .utterance of that which proved 
 the very intensity of his feelings. 
 
 ' Oh yes,' continued Brooke, ' there are lots of authorities to be 
 quoted in favour of mirthfulness. I've already mentioned 
 Bunyan and Watts. I'll give you all the rest of the old divines. 
 
 ' " Ob, Baxter is the boy for mc, 
 So full of merriment and glee ; 
 And wben I want a funny man, 
 I turn to any old Puritan : — 
 A Puritan, 
 A funny man, 
 I read the works of a Puritan ! 
 
 '" Among the Puritan divines 
 
 Old Cotton Mather brightest shines, 
 And he could be a funny man, 
 Because he was a Puritan : — 
 
 A Puritan, 
 
 A funny man, 
 Old Mather was a Puritan ! 
 
 ' " Tlie old Blue-Laws, of all the best, 
 Old Calvin made in solemn jest ; 
 For fun he never could tolerate, 
 Unless established by the State : — 
 A Puritan, 
 A funny man, 
 John Calvin was a Puritan I' ' 
 
 This eccentric song Brooke droned out in nasal tones and with 
 a lachrymose whine to the strangest tune that ever was heard. 
 At its close he heaved a sigh, and said : 
 
 * Well, it's dry work singing hymns all by myself, and you 
 won't even " jine" in the choruses, and so— I'll stop the machine.' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 141 
 
 with 
 Leard. 
 
 you 
 Ihiue.' 
 
 Saying this, he turned away and went to the opposite side of 
 the small loft, where he sat down with his head against the wall. 
 
 ' Does any lady or gentleman present object to smoking V said 
 he after a brief pause, as he drew forth his pipe and smoking 
 materials. ' Because I propose to take a smoke^ and I should like 
 to know just out of curiosity.' 
 
 To this Talbot made no reply, but sat down o])posite Brooke, 
 in the same attitude, and watched him as he smoked, which he 
 l^roceeded to do without any further delay. 
 
 * You don't smoke, I believe, sir,' said he with all gravity. 
 Talbot said nothing. 
 
 ' Well,' said Brooke, ' I wouldn't advise you to begin ;' and 
 with that he went on puffing away. 
 
 Brooke at last finished his smoke, after which he put his pipe 
 in his pocket, and then, throwing his head back, sat with hie: eyes 
 obstinately fixed on the ceiling. Talbot remained in the same 
 attitude, without moving. She had kept her eyes all this time 
 fixed on Brooke, and knew that he was avoiding her glance. 
 All the same, however, she continued watching him, and wjia 
 waiting patiently till she should catch his eye. But Brooke, as 
 though aware of her purpose, avoided her, and still looked away. 
 Thus these two sat in utter silence for a long time. It was Talbot 
 who first broke the silence. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said she in a soft, low voice, which sounded like a 
 sigh. 
 
 'Well, Talbot,' said Brooke in a voice which was strangely 
 altered from the somewha hard tones of forced gaiety in which 
 he had last been speaking. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said Talbot, ' I am miserable.' 
 
 Brooke was silent for a time. He made a movement, then 
 checked himself, and then said : 
 
 * Are you ? Odd, too, isn't it ?' 
 
 * I am miserable,' said Talbot again ; *' and it is strange, for 
 your life has been saved, and we are out of immediate danger. 
 Yet I am now more miserable than I was last night when your 
 life was in danger. Can you tell me why it is so, Brooke V 
 
 Again Brooke made a movement, which he checked, as before, 
 by a strong impulse. 
 
 ' Give it up,' said he shortly. 
 
 ' I know,' said Talbot. ' I'll tell you, It was this,' and her voice 
 dropped as she spoke to a lower tone. ' Last night I had made 
 up my mind to die for you, Brooke.' 
 
 Brooke drew a long breath. For an instant his eyes lowered. 
 They caught the gaze which Talbot had fixed on him— deep, 
 intense, unfathomable. It was but for a moment, and then it 
 was as though he made a violent effort, and tore them away. 
 One of his hands caught at the other, and held it in a tight grip. 
 
' I 
 
 I r\s?7 7' ;,v sr\;y 
 
 ' ToiMWHrh laH'ol in lll.ll.' I\i' -niil :\\ |i-n;>lll in M \\:\\ U Miiri-, 
 
 ' 1 1 von !!>< on ilnno tov jM'oplo. \vlnrll hi-ronii' n|' vimi i' 
 
 'And now .' ,M\nl\n\nMl TmU'oI in n tlicMitn wm\ 'now. wlim 
 Bn^pon-^o ,»nil (l.niiiiM mon> ovov, I ;nn niiMotMMc linntly ntiii'i 
 iUilo. U\%^oKo \\ li\ H)toi\|.| }\\\ mini! Ii;i\ o -^ini'l) Mhiiti'M' nlloi iin 
 tion^'. foolinofl so ( ond Milii'loi \ . HO (inroiHoniiltlo / I onulil lo lie 
 
 \:\\ 
 
 V 
 
 \\h\ ;nn 
 
 noj 
 
 h 
 
 i\\ ,' »:\h\ UrooKo, m llio muno h.unlt lono (h lu'l'oi 
 V!;.inn\n<j <o 1.\1K n\i'l.n>l\\ ^ii-q, Mnd lin nil iH Mi>a llioio. 
 r;<Hs>t w,<^ 'iilonl. In-i'i^Ko Im'o.ui (o win^ : 
 
 Tl\.' b,<,« 1\,> sluvi"* I'i'V nil l\in l<l'i> ; 
 \W l\o Ki<fn'> (i> (111' ol«v. 
 V'n< \\i\\{ hts «lins inv dono ' 
 
 0. ' \ on ii> 
 
 \\;>!< M 
 
 Mijii' 
 
 S>KMh>' now VoUowod for .» voivlono tiino, l( 
 ImnAou In Imov'Ko. 
 
 ' r.iH^ot,' s;u<l \w in w BoK. low \oio»v 
 
 • WoU. UusOxo." f^.n.l r,»n<o(. 
 
 ' VN lU von Iv :^W\\{ \{ \ s;vv something I' 
 
 * \ OS. l^^voko.' 
 
 ' No, U\^^^1\0.' 
 
 ' Not ntovo rtu \\w\\ V 
 ' No. ^^^\^^k',\■ 
 
 ' \N oil." s;ud 1m\s>Ko. ' on ^i^^^^n^l (ho\)(.:l\ls. 1 IhinK I won'! rmv iI.' 
 V.UKm s,U(1 uotlunj.. Tmn^oKo s,»< lookinu ;nv;»v. mh nHU;»l. ImiI 
 uow, M \;\»U lu!* ovos. >vl\irl\ ]\m\ so l\M\ii !»voitl«'»l i\o\H. HMuK down 
 
 tiil tl 
 
 un tr.ot 1\0V m;\: 
 
 ri\ov \'«>s(od tluMo. ;n»tt (lioao (wohmI in 
 
 silouvv. n\4;;n\in\!i v^no ;\nv>ll\ov w uh ;\ strMn^v. sad U>ok of lonjiin",. 
 as thowgh (luMx» \v;\s Ivtwoon tlion\ t\ Ivuiior ovov whioli (licv 
 o.,uvd not i\<Ns. And <h;>t U;u vitM' ;\>'oso thon'. inN iwiMo vol in\ 
 ^\^ss.^Mo tho }>loxi_>:v »>t' lionotu and tidolit v .Mln'jidv «;ivon \iv o;n li 
 1>' .^r.otluM. i\i i\w tluMb:l\t ^^t■ w h>v U tl\ov had tunv (o otusiji y\o\\\\ 
 
 th 
 
 snvj^uig |\-^s.s5ons wulwii 
 
 Tallvt 
 
 ..ud I 
 
 NWH^kO ^^tUV mow 
 
 SW o\- 
 
 ^^ cii. K'.voko,' was tho ar 
 Oh. Tailvt : Tallvt ! IK^ vou kttow what I wish (o say V 
 Vos. iMwko." s.r.d ralhot, " ' I know it. I know it all." 
 >Ntri. 1 w\Hs;»y U." s.ud lM\v>ko, * t\>v I oanuot koop il. «>li 
 
 T;Ulvt : it ivS tins— 
 
 Oh, T^^llvt '- ^-uivl hi$ ovc* iv$lod oti \\ 
 
 it is jvnl of niy Puvitati odiuation, porhaps. 
 
 oi"s with a dovotuiiig ga/.o 
 
I ( \'<// / ;y 
 
 \/y 
 
 1 1 
 
 Kill IiIm Miji'p I it'iiiMi'il iMiil tlif'il dill iiilii iiIiiimmI iiiiniililili' liiiH'M 
 nil .TmIImiI . Ill V \i'iiiiiii't ludllii'i 'rnlliiil I Sciy |p|imm;iiiI IijimI, 
 
 tlinii Im'I'M null) nil* 'Iliy ltivi> In iiii> in \vi>iiili' 
 
 |m\ i> 111 UOIMI'M 
 
 I till 
 
 |lll>l!llll( 
 
 nil' lliH 
 
 II' )||i| linl iiKiVf nil lli'li 
 
 'I'lillii'l miimIiiii> |m lin |HMiniMi>. 
 mill hIh> dill iidl h|m'mI« m wmiiI IWiI Ihi (>vi"i wi'V Iim"! ii|iiiii 
 lli'li; mill ill I lidHf i'\ I'M MiiimKi'umw uin c hi'ii in wIimI Iii' li'nl Mcili 
 I'lliiii" llii' liink nf M, liivc lliiii liMil (ihciiily hIhiwii ilMcir Ht,inn^*"» 
 
 lIllHI lil'l*. 
 
 II \VM« cvi'nin^. 
 
 HnililiMilv llit'io mtiHi' (I iiniMi' iiiilnii|i' Itioohc kIm»'I<'»I ni» nnil 
 Mt'nl In Hlf winilnw, uln'H< Im> Hinml ImiMnj', onl. If, WliH l)<»|i<'/, 
 
 illi nil liin I'nlluwi'iH, wli 
 
 Willi nil iiiM iniiuwi'iH, Willi wi'H> ii'i ni iiiii!> 
 Hinnk«', in liin nHiitil I'liHliinii, n;iii{r 
 
 , ' ( »ll, lilllo ,l||c|( l|i< ('lilnlu'll AM hj^rti, 
 
 I'p |tii> Iii<iiiinImII( iiilii llio nI(v, 
 Atiil llii'ic III' Mrnv (III ii(ri(< (.'liiii 
 A I'liiiiin' IntiiiiiiM iiiini'i' MiMtl III' lijiii. 
 Miti|;iii(i li' II III litlM 
 
 I Hlllcll III!' Illiilill til , I Jiill^lislKIIUtt I 
 
 \\',\n\\ 
 \\o\\ w 
 m\ in 
 
 nu'in':. 
 
 I'llioy 
 
 'I in\ 
 
 iU>w n 
 
 Oil 
 
 lloW Mli. 
 
 CIIAI'Tllif, XXVI. 
 
 AMIIIlV MKKI'M WITH A dlMvM' Hl/lll'lUMr, ANI> A 
 VKHV dlir.A'l' roNK<»t,ATI(iN. 
 
 ;v/.o 
 
 AsllliY WMH .'ilniic in IliM cliMinlicr. IMm lonin (t|i('iic'(l frnrii l,lio 
 lower Imll, miuI nvmh iliicclly ImmumiIIi IIimI. in wliii Ii lljiiry wms 
 (•(HiliniMl. It wimnl' lli(> mmiiic ilimriiHionn in jill Hiivn hci^lil, in 
 wliiiii n'H|uM't il, WMM inmli inrcrior. 'I'lic cnnni litnl filHo (i, 
 f'.lniiinirr »'li;ir(M"((>r, lor IIm> lii^^li nloiic W)iIIm, )m l.licy rowi nnd 
 rnrlicil (iv(>iiu>iiil, luiil llic iih|i(t(, of hoiim' (nllicdiiil ( rypl. nr 
 Iniiiiil-itlint'. riin wiiitlnWH linn wnn iidirow hIiIh, uh ahovc, 
 (Inunjji w liirli I.Im« iIiIIck'hI. <iiiiiI, y/iiiJM mi/rlil, \m Hccn. Tlio 
 IliMir WMH of Hidiic, iinil nl. uiic cimI Micic wiiM i\. Iiii<((> (iicphn c, very 
 Miiiiiliir ((» IIh< dlliriH (ilrnnly int'iilidiicd, Ihon/di iidl, ho lii(di. 
 
 II. Iiiul Ihmmi It Idijg, lonjr (Iny I'tir AHlil»y. I'ivrniiiiMtjinic, ;i,nr| 
 rnuiiil liim wciir.v finti wnin mil, willi i innii. VVilliniil, jiny (»(f;ii- 
 liatidii I'di- him ciirif^icM, liJM ininil incycd ii|ioii il.Mcll', anil llicin 
 I'l'iliiiiily wan Huiru'icnl, dC(Mi|i(il.ion Iim liin liincy. IliKrriind v/;\h 
 in M whirl, mid H|u'(>dily l)(>(-;i,nin (i, |ii(y lu ovciy v.iiii^t.y nl' cnn- 
 Ilit'tinjH- I'rolinif. Mr iriiioinlM'icd Kjilin'H hri^^dil, HMiih;, and jiIho 
 tii(> dark glaiicn nl" DnlnrrM. Me waH jealniw nt' Mio Hinder wliii li 
 Kalio had m» laviHhly Ix-Hlowcd on lla,iry. Ilo wjih nirnndcd 
 With hur for bciny m gay under micli circuin.stauco.s, ilut, in hi.s 
 
I'U 
 
 J (\is77j: /x s/\iLy. 
 
 \o\wV\\\c»H tliciv wciv otliiM' f("('liii<,'n wliicli wt'iv hLioiii^ov lliaii 
 ovoii lliis ivsotiliiuMit .'intl jc'iIomhv. 'riiciiMviMc ccrLiin sIimumv 
 iuid iiuli'i'm.'iMo Ionian ii,hm alU'r hoiuo Hocidy ; ;niil llic Hoi'icly 
 uliicli now sooiiumI inosl, tlcsii.'ililc wiis ilir penile in'csciicc of 
 Dolores. Ili'v l;ust IooUh iciii.iiiKMl (Kcply iiii|»i('HS('«l upon ||i:^ 
 mi'mory ; lior last <1im'|), o.'inu'.st j^'Ianco had Nunk into liin smil. 
 Me oonltl not tlivow aside (Ids irrolleclion. holorcHNvas in ;il| 
 Ids llioui^dds, llion^li lie liad died to (linist lier aside. 
 
 Il(> foiiiKl Idmsell' eontiinially eotnpaiiiii!; these t\V(». Would 
 Katie be so _i,dad at S(>eiii,i!," him a>j;ain as I)ol(tr(>s liad heeii at ineet- 
 iii!^ him / Woultl Katii.' take so iiiiuli trouM(> i'or th(> sake of 
 witeakin^i; to him? On llu^ other liaiid, woidd Doloies l»e so t;;iy, 
 so happy, and so ineny when torn froni ..nn { and would Dolnics 
 look upon him in his loneliness with sufh a snnle of indill'ereiieo 
 and lii;ht-hearted miith I Never ! Dolores liad a deeper nature. 
 in the j;lanee of Dolores her inmost soul had heen revealed. At 
 its recolleetion his nerves thrilled, his heart throbbed faster, lie 
 h)n<;ed to hear her voiee aoain. And thus, as the hours passed, 
 the imas;e of Katie faded away, n\n\ that of Dolores grew more 
 strongly delined ; the image of Doloi'es as s-'ie had last appeared 
 to him— ])ale, sail, anxious, earnest, lier eyes fixed npon him with 
 dee}), iutcnse inohuicholy and profound pity. 
 
 ' Ai'iir nwHV from tlioc, 
 
 Thy pale I'lU'c liauiila mo yi'l ; 
 Dccj) vcaniH my lioarl for tlioe, 
 Tliy Inst sail look ami word uiinblo (u forgot.' 
 
 These words oeonrred io him, and he murmured them to him- 
 self. It was [o Dolores that he api)lied tlu'iii, and naturally too ; 
 for how ridieulously inapplieable to Katie would they be! All 
 else was now forgotten exeept Dolores. Jle fi'lt a longing after 
 her that was like homesiekness. The past all eame baek. lie 
 recalleil her as she had been when he lirst met her at \'aleiieia. 
 A thousand little ineidents in his life there, whieli had been for 
 a time forgotten, now revived in his memory. IJo had been for 
 months at their house ami had been nursed through a long illness. 
 He had been loaded with kimlness and alVection. The aged 
 mother had been his nurse tluring his illness, and Dolores Jiail 
 been hiseompanion during his eonvalese«nice. Jle had left them, 
 expecting soou to return, t'ircumstanees, however, had arisen 
 which ke])t him away, and he had forgotten her. Now, however, 
 a stronger feeling had arisen for her, as Dolores had api)eared ia 
 more than her oldeu beauty, w'ith the additional charm of a 
 strange, yiathetic grace, and a wistful look iu her dark eyes that 
 seemed to speak of something more than ordinary friendsliip. 
 She had sjioken of the days at V^alencia ; she liatl reproached him 
 for forgetting. She herself had not forgotten those ilays— the 
 days iu which they used to talk and walk and sing together. 
 
J cAsr/.r: i\ sPAfx. 
 
 145 
 
 an 
 
 Ah ilioro \\m nntliiiif^ to (livctt IiIh iiiiiKl from ili -ho ilioiij^'Iitrt, 
 
 Aslihy i^MVo liiniHcIf up (<> tlii'tii, mihI (Jiti.s I :iim<< iiint)' lH'l|)lfss 
 
 iii^.'iiiiMl ilu'iii. It Wiis ill MMcli ii, tiiDud iiH tlii.s tliiil, li<> l;iy upon 
 lii.s nidii couch, nii;il»lc (o hIc('|», .'UkI wundcriiif^' wlial. wan to Ito 
 llic end t»f liis prcMcnl, advciiluit'. SIkhiM he ever ncc lit-r a^^aiii { 
 \\i\H hIi(< licrc now, oi- had (licy U't her f^^o / The llion^hl, thai, h\w 
 iniifht poH.silily have! hiMMi hcI I'rci', that Hhc nii;.^hl. now he far 
 away, wan l(iodi,HtrcH,siii^ to he cnlcrlaiiicd. If ho, tlicn hin piinon 
 hccukmI douhiy dark. If ho, then what <'oiild he do/ I'lvcii if 
 ho should Ik'coiuo free, what wan Ik! to <lo / Upon one thin;^ h(( 
 w.'iH roHolvod, and that wan to Hcek after her until Ik; nii;^dit liiid 
 her. And Katiu ^ Well, tln^ f;u;t Ih, Kati(! was left out of con- 
 Hideration. 
 
 Jlourw had paHsed. Anhl>y could iifit nleep. Ilin iniii<l wan an 
 aclivo art ever, and Htill, aw ever, his ihoii^dits all gathered about 
 Dolores. 
 
 Siuhlenly, in tin? very midst of these thick-tcjcniiiif^j fancies, 
 his attention was arrested ity a Htran;4e sound. 
 
 It was only a sli^dit rustle, scarce audible, yet still Ik; lieard it, 
 and under such circiiinstances it seemed most mysterious. In an 
 instant ho wius all attention, lie lay motionless, yet listenetl 
 with intense watchfulness, peerijij^ at the; sariui time into the 
 (lark room, where the moonlij^^ht struf,%ded through the low, 
 narrow windows. 
 
 After a little while he thou<,dit that lie licaid iiic sound a;,'ain. 
 Jle listened, without motion. 
 
 Then there came a dillerent sound, it was a low whisper — a 
 whisper which, however, jxmotrated to liis very soul : 
 
 Assebi !' 
 
 Was there any otlicr in all the world who would pronounce 
 his name in that way i It was the well-known, well-remembered, 
 and dearly loved name as it had been pronounced by iJolores in 
 the old days at Valencia. Conn'uf^ thus to him at such a time, it 
 seemed too good to be true, lie was afraid that he had been 
 deoeived by his own fancy ; he feared to move, lest ho miyht 
 dispel this sweet vision. Yet he hoped that he nn'^dit not Ijo 
 mistaken ; and in this hope, scarce expcctiug an aasvvor, he said, 
 iu a i,fentle whisper : 
 
 ' Dolores !' 
 
 * I am here !' said a soft voice. 
 
 At tliis Ashby's heart beat wildly, and a tlirill of rapture 
 rushed through every iierve and tibre of his being, lie sprang 
 up and peered through the gloom, and moved forward in the 
 direction from which the voice setiued to have come. At this 
 moment he did not stoj) to consider how Dolores could have got 
 there. It was enough thtit she really was there, and all other 
 feelings were lost iu his deep joy. 
 
 10 
 
 % 
 
146 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 f 
 
 I! ^ 
 
 ' Dolores,' he said, * where are you ? I don't see you.' 
 Through the room a figure now advanced across the moon- 
 beams. He saw the figure. In anotlier instant he had cauglit 
 Dolores in his arms, and held her strained close to his wildly 
 throbbing heart. But JJoloros struggled away. 
 
 * Oh no !' she said, in a tone of distress, speaking in her sweet 
 Spanish — 'oh no, Senor Assebi. This is cruel — when I have 
 risked so much for you !' 
 
 * Forgive me, dearest Dolores,' said Ashby ; * but you have 
 come to me like an angel from heaven in my darkest hour. And 
 I have thought of you, and of you only, ever since you left mo 
 at Burgos. I wandered all tlirough the streets there to find you. 
 I have been in despair at losing you. I have been wondering 
 whether I should ever see you again — and now, dearest, sweetest 
 Dolores, I have you again !' 
 
 All this was rapidly uttered in a resistless torrent of words, in 
 wliieh all his long pent-up feelings flowed forth. 
 
 J>ulorcs began to sob. 
 
 ' I didn't think this,' she said, ' or I should have been afraid to 
 come, yefior, you are false to your English bride.' 
 
 ' I'nglish bride !' cried Ashby scornfully. ' What is she ? A 
 Ci'.)".'. I r never wish to see her again. My fancy for her was a 
 'AJiJiiV -a passing whim ! You, Dolores — yon are the only one 
 i\\\\'i I love! I love you/ I love yo?^, I adore you! — my 
 
 * rJi'Mfu',' cried Dolores, tearing away her hands, which Aahhy 
 ha.i :i' i'.fd in his, * 1 will instantly leave you if you ai-e so dis- 
 h(>;'.(, •-.ruble. All this is insult to me — yes, to me. Oh, seiior, 
 Vi u V-. ill break my heart !' 
 
 As Dolores said this, sobs burst from her. She glided away 
 into tlie gloom, still sobbing. Ashby gave way utterly. 
 
 ' Dolores,' he cried, in a tone of entreaty — ' Dolores, forgive 
 me ! I will never offend again — never — never I Oh, forgive me! 
 Come back, Dolores ! Oh, do not leave me, Dolores !' 
 
 At this Dolores relented, and Ashby saw her approaching him 
 again. He advanced toward her. 
 
 ' Be calm,' she said ; ' speak low ; we are in danger.' 
 
 * But how did you get here V asked Ashby. 
 
 ' I will tell you another time. It is a secret passage.' 
 ' A secret passage V 
 
 * Yes. I have come to tell you that I can save you. You may 
 escape.' 
 
 ' Escape V 
 
 * Yes. I know the way out.' 
 ' How does that happen V 
 
 * Oh, I have been here before.' 
 
 * You ?— here V 
 
rl CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 147 
 
 tuoon- 
 
 sviUUy 
 
 sweet 
 ; have 
 
 I have 
 And 
 eft mo 
 id you. 
 iidering 
 weetest 
 
 ords, in 
 
 if raid to 
 
 die^ A 
 er was a 
 only one 
 
 )u !— niy 
 
 Aahlty 
 so dis- 
 Ih, seiior, 
 
 ed away 
 
 ' Yes. When I was a child I was here. My father lived here. 
 He had a plantation. But enough ; 1 know the way out.' 
 
 * Jiut haven't you run too nuich risk in coniiug hero ]' 
 
 ' I have run a risk,' said Dolores slowly, ' but not — too — much.' 
 
 ' A risk V 
 
 ' Yes. I went into the wrong room. A man was asleep there. 
 I went to him and touched hiui, and whispered in his ear your 
 name.' 
 
 ' Dolores !' 
 
 * Hush ! be calm, senor. Remember your promise.' 
 ' Who was the man ?' 
 
 * I could not see him. He pursued me, but I escaped.' 
 ' But you ! — how did you get here V 
 
 ' By a secret passage, as I said.' 
 ' In what part of the castle are you V 
 'Oh, in the story above.' 
 
 ' Do they treat you well V asked Ashby, in a tone of tender 
 -olicitude. 
 ' I have nothing to complain of.' 
 
 ' Do you feel lonely ? I wonder if you have felt as I have V 
 Dolores sighed. 
 
 * Sometimes,' she said, ' I have felt lonely.' 
 ' And you have come here to save me ]' 
 
 * Yes — why not V 
 
 * But yon are risking much — perhaps your life ?* 
 It all burst forth now. 
 
 ' I don't care,' said Dolores impetuously, ' if I can save — you 1' 
 Ashbymade^no reply. He took the little hand of Dolores 
 
 gently and tenderly, without any resistance on her part, and held 
 
 it in silence. 
 
 forgive 
 Wfive ine! 
 
 lung him 
 
 ''on may 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 liOW MR. ASnBY AND MISS DOLORES GARCIA CARRY ON A 
 VERY INTERESTING CONVERSATION. 
 
 AsiiDY stood thus, holding the little hand of Dolores, and was 
 overcome by the strongest emotions. He was in a very trying 
 position. Her presence filled him with joy, yet she would not 
 lallow him to express that joy. Being bound to another, he was 
 Iforced by Dolores to respect that bond. And yet, what must 
 ilier feelings be toward him, since she had come here to see him, 
 jventuriug so far aud risking so much I Who else in the world 
 hvoukl do this for him ] Would Katie ? The idea was too absurd. 
 iKatie was a mere butterfly ; but Dolores, with her intense nature, 
 Iber passionate self-devotion, was formed out of that stuif from 
 |which the heroine is made. Katie could lose all she loved beat, 
 
 10 — 2 
 
149 
 
 J ci.s/y/; /.v "./' I/A-. 
 
 niitl ulill ivo on Hinilinsi mikI Hini'lini^ ; 1ml |)o1mv(»m onnM l,iy ilnwn 
 lit'i lilt' lor luM iViciiil. ^S\i('li wcic tlio Hcntiiiu'iiln ol" AmIiIi\ on 
 llii^ ofo.iHion, ;Mitl nt'tMJ iiol 1m> coiiHiilt'tctl hh l>y •'Hiv iiio.inM ,1 imr 
 «v-<liin.ilo of llio rt>iil tlcuMclfr i>r lli«> .yoiinn; Judy jn •|iic..liuii 
 K;\(it' li.iM \»'t lo MpciK I'oi liciscll'.) 
 
 So Aslihy IVI( liiinscll dcli.un'il from innkiiif]; .Miiy Klrcni'^ il... 
 inoiisljation ot" Tot'linij, cillici by woi-il or iid. Ili> wmm iifriiiij ijiaf 
 l>oloi(>s ini;;l\( vchciiI il. Slic ini^lil cvoii lly from liim ;ix inyd,.. 
 lioush MS mIh' Iiad come. He \\:\n lioiiiitl, llicrct'oic, lo h«'I it wmMi 
 upon liimsolf, nnd vcpiosM liis f»'i>lin«fM niowl, Hli'onirjy. 1 1 sci'iii('(| 
 to him M };n>;\( ('onctvssjon on licf |>;\rl lli;\l hIic pcrmillcd liim (■\('ii 
 toliolil her liaml. 'Tliis was of ilnclf nKwl hwccI, even if lie iniilil 
 Hiiy nolliino of Ihoso (Iionjdils llial wore Hwcllinf,' williin liini. 
 
 * How did yon n»anaj;t' lo liido youiHolf ho at llnif^oH I' licaNknl 
 nfliM' a Ion<4 siltMiiu-. 
 
 ' I did not liido," said Dolowsi. ' 1 w«Mii (o that lionHi^ wIumv 
 my fiitMidH wrvo ; and on llu» folltuvinji mornin<j: flicy took 1110(0 
 .'\n litMol \vli»M»> tlicy Naid (Ikmo was an l''in.i;lisli fannly. Tli(W(> 
 AV(M<' Iho IxiissoUs, ami tlicy consc-nlod lo Id m(> travid with llicin 
 as far as 1 was {;oin,<?. Vouv h'.nolish niaidoii is vory bi'.'wilifnl, 
 
 HCMIor.' 
 
 Poloivs spoUo llioso list words ill a iono fnll of patlms. 
 
 ' Slio is a pink and-whid' doll,' said Ashby sliarnly. ' Tell 1110 
 al>on1 yonrsi'lf, Doloivs. Po yon know ' and he lu'iii down Imv 
 o\or lu'r 'doytMi know lunv I tried li) s('(> yon / I was up at 
 four, and fron\ that until ton I p.i.'ot) the strools in all diivcliniis, 
 lii^pinjjf to got a j^liinpso (»f yon. Mid yon know that. I was lock- 
 ino- for von i 'V\w\\ at last 1 saw you with that hc.iHi (if a 
 taiUn', and 1 was in «U'spair. 
 
 ' What ! coiiKl ytm not join thoir party i 1 wondcrod wliyyoii 
 »litl not oomo lo spoak lo — to mo,' said Doloros, 'and I foil liiiit 
 — booanse 1 llionghl I n\i<;ht novor see yon a,sj;ain.' 
 
 ' Holoros,' said Ashby. takini; hor band in both of his, Mini 
 drawins? noaror to hor. ' 1 swoar that at tliat timo I'd have ,<;iv(ii 
 mv rii^lU arm to siuwk to you. V>\\{ that dovil of a, tailor is iiiv 
 bitlor onomy ; iu\d you saw tiic (Quarrel wo had in tlio railway 
 statitni at ^ladriil.' 
 
 ' Thon you did not purjiosoly— avoid me ?' said Doloro.s, iu a 
 faltoring voice. 
 
 'Oh, J)oloro8 !' said Ash by iu a reproachful tone 
 
 Ite tried to (h'aw ber nearer, but Dolores would not allow it. 
 
 * 1 thought that I sbonUl like to 8;iy good-bye, and it seoiueil 
 sad to have you appear to avoid me.' 
 
 ' By heavens, Dolores !' crieil Ashby, ' I had made uj) my miuJ 
 to leave the train and follow you to Panipeluua.' 
 Dolores sighed. 
 
 * You could not have left your English maiden,' said slic. 
 
I ( .IS77 r /v sr.i/x 
 
 •I'; 
 
 il l;\y ilnwii 
 if AhIiIiv on 
 ic'inH ;i liiir 
 
 )' nlvnliij, (Ic- 
 \ ;il'r;\iil lliiit 
 
 Hi>t ;v w.itrli 
 
 (mI liiin I'M'ii 
 I) if l\(' I'tiiiU \ 
 i\\'\\\ liiiu. 
 
 luily. 'riu"^(' 
 ,-t'l witlillu'iii 
 >vy iH'iwitil'iil, 
 
 ' I oDiilil I wiiiiM !' nicil /N'lliliy. ' I'.y Im'mvciim, I wnnlii [ 
 Hlii> JM iiotliin^r Id iiic iintliin^r Im'IIcI' tlinii ii kitliii. 'I'lii' iiiii- 
 iiiiMil vnii cMmc, I iMiilcrHlunil iill my fccliiiijr Cur |m>i'. 1 1 win 
 iinlliiiii;. Iiiviidt' yuii, mIm' siiiK^< iiilniith'r iiiMiifiiiliciiii'f'. \i>\\, 
 ItoloicM, iut> t'vt'i \ lliiiij,' to IMC. I tell )Mii, ynii ;u<> iiiliiiilily 
 (It'iiicr to in<> tliMii Hint — ' 
 
 ' Ihi^li, Ht>rioi',' MMJiJ hdluK'M ; 'I will not I will will — will 
 liiil ImIi'II to our Hin;4lt', niii;^flt« W'n|t| i>\' tliin.' 
 
 ' I'liil, oil, 'li'MrcMl. HWi'ftrHl hnlurcM, will yoii unt 1. 1, nil' Irll 
 volt linw I love yoii r Hiiid Anility, dijiwilit^ lici' cjost'i In liiiii. 
 
 I »ii|(ii('M hIii;iiiI< (I w.'iv. 
 
 '(•lino 110,110!' hIic H.iid, 'I will not lirtlrii im'Voc -iil'VcI' 
 never !' 
 
 'I tell von, holoK'H,' conliimril Anliliy, • hIiicc I liavc mccm yoii 
 I li.ive (iis' ovncil lli;it fill llic wuiM nii<| cvt'iylliiiit; in ili inii'l, 
 Wdilli a Hir.'iw to IMC iiiilcsH I li.ivo yon. I HWciir to yon lli;il- 
 wlicii ym left. iiu> at. I'mid'om all Ilic li^dit of life wiiil (»iil, and all 
 Ilic joy and Hwci't iicMH of life jrfl nic. I'd lallicr stand licn' in 
 Ilii< |iiinon willi yon tliaii lie a kiiitf (nilHido willmnl. yon. And 
 ilu-^c I ' '" f^'''"' ''''^' tlicsc dcviln of ('ariistx liavr c;i|»liirrd ii-^.' 
 
 Am Asliliy spoke tliese woi'dM in a, low, fervid, e\eite(| wjiiiiper, 
 lie held holores ti'dil. in lli^^ aini.t, presided In Ili^^ (piick I liioh- 
 liiiij^ heart ; nor cnnld sli(> draw a,way troni liini, in spile of licr 
 
 sliriiikiii!; hack. I n fact , tlic poor liltic thin;; did not Kcein to 
 
 li.ive the will to f^'ct away from liini, for lli(> end of it was that 
 
 lier head foil down iu'lples.HJy on lii.s lircaHt, and she lie;ifan to cry : 
 
 ' I think it's — cinci,' she soltlied, 'cinel in you !' 
 
 Asliliy pr«'ssed her more ehtsely to lii.s heart in the same, 'cniel' 
 
 1 'wis look- I "'■>""*'''i ""•' kisMcd away her teats 
 
 ntlios. 
 
 ly. ' Tell lUO 
 
 cut, down k'W 
 
 1 wa-< ny :»t 
 •til directions 
 
 :it. 
 
 U beast of 
 
 loro< 
 
 1 whvyoii 
 lul \ i'olt" k'lrt 
 
 I of hi^, ;uiil 
 
 (I 
 
 have i;ivH 
 
 iiiv 
 
 la tailor i^» 
 1 the Viulway 
 
 Dolores, iu ft 
 
 luoi allow it. 
 1ml it sooiue 
 
 id 
 
 [e up wy 
 
 luiuil 
 
 ' Vou'ro not kind to me at all,' sij^died iJnlnrcM. 
 
 Tt) thi.H oliHervation Aslihy made no reply, t hinl;iii'.;, pciliap.^, 
 Hint at that moment words were of no particular ii.ic. 
 
 ' lt'n very cntel,' ropeatod iJoloren, 'and I diil not think yon 
 vould he so unkind ' 
 
 To this Aslihy'.s answer wan, as boforo, l^y acts that won; moru 
 iliHiiieiit than words. 
 
 ' holores,' said he, as soon as lie was able to (express himself 
 coliereiitly, 'if yon had not come, I really think I should havo 
 killed myself.' 
 
 ' J)id yon I'oally feel so badly V asked l)oIores in a tender voice. 
 
 'My heart ached,' said Ashby ; ' it a,(;lied for the si;^lit of you. 
 J>o you know what heartache is, darlin;,' / Uo yon know what 
 [it in to hunger, uud thirst, and lon^,', and yearn after some one V 
 
 Dolores sijfhed. She said nothin/^', bnt her head rested more 
 ! closely on Ashby 's breast, and one little hand stole timidly up 
 |iiud was laid lightly on his shoulder. 
 
 'Do yon know anything about such feelings, Dolores r por- 
 Isistc'd Ashby. 
 
 % 
 
 laid she. 
 
ISO 
 
 A CASTLE LV SPAIN. 
 
 i 
 
 I'i i 
 
 ' All,' said Dolores, in a scarce audible whisper, ' all — all- all ! 
 But tell me,' said she, looking up as though trying to see his face 
 in the gloom, * who was it V 
 
 ' Who was it? What a question ! You ! you, darling! you, 
 Dolores !' 
 
 ' Not the English maiden V she asked. 
 
 'She !' said Ash by contemptuously ; *she is a doll — a buttorflv 
 —a kitten ! She is nothing — a poor creature with no brains and 
 no heart ! Even her beauty is mere prettiness. There is no soul 
 in her face, no lightning in her glance.' 
 
 ' And who has soul in her face and lightning in her glauco i' 
 asked Dolores shyly. 
 
 * Who] You ! you, my darling, dark-eyed Dolores ! you, Mitli 
 your deep, unfathomable, glowing^ soul-lit eyes, that pierce to my 
 inmost heart, and make me thrill at the recollection.' 
 
 * And won't you say that all again V said Dolores ; ' and won't 
 you say that about the English maid ? I love to hear you call 
 her names,' 
 
 Dolores said this with the innocence and frank simplicity of a 
 child. 
 
 'She is a baby!' said Ashby ; 'the English maiden — a iiieiv 
 baby ! She can only smile, and smile, and be silly. ITomnly 
 desire is to tind some one who will pet her. She can only live in 
 the sunshine. She is a butterfly ! She has no heart, no soul! 
 She is a doll to be looked at, but she can give no return. She l 
 a kitten that thinks of nothing but play. ]>ut as for mo, I trivo 
 all my heart and all ray love to a girl I know, who is no iiui 
 fair-weather friend, but one who has clung to me when others 
 were false, who has come to me in my dai'kness and my dospair, 
 so that my dungeon uas become a heaven, and this dark iii^lit i^ 
 the brightest time of my life. And this girl — this, my Spani-li 
 girl, is my idol and my deity. I adore her, for I know that slio 
 stands ready to give up all for my sake, and to lay down lioiveiy 
 life for me. Never-never in all my life have I known anytliin: 
 like the deep, intense, vehement, craving, yearning, devouiiii:' 
 love that I feel for her. It even makes me smile to think liuw 
 feeble and contemptible other feelings have been in coniparisnii 
 with this. I want no other occupation than to spend all uiv 
 hours recalling all that my darling love has ever said — in reeallin;. 
 the days at Valencia, before I knew she was so dear, and tlie 
 highest bliss of life I have now. I could be willing to die, ai.l 
 could even die gladly, my darling, darling Dolores, if I could die , 
 with your hand in mine.' 
 
 Ashby was going on farther in this pleasing strain, when 
 suddenly, and witliout a moment's warning, Dolores gave a 
 spring and vanished. 
 
 Ashby stood confounded. Then he stared all around. Theu 
 he called after her : 
 
 P; » 
 
A CASTLE AV SPALV. 
 
 J=;i 
 
 I— all- ,ill ! 
 see his face 
 
 .rlingi you. 
 
 -a butterfly 
 ) brains ainl 
 re is no soul 
 
 her glance !' 
 
 3 ! you, with 
 pierce to my 
 
 ; ' and M'ou't | 
 
 ear you c;ill 
 
 mpUcity of a 
 
 idcn— a meiv 
 y. Her mi 
 11 only live in 
 >art, no soul 
 .urn. She i- 
 or me, I give 
 is no iiieve 
 when other 
 my despaiv, 
 dark night ' 
 , my SiKuii-li 
 now tlii\t she 
 own her very 
 wn anythiu. 
 -g, devour!!!:' 
 |to think how 
 u conr]);u'is"U 
 ipend all uiv 
 ill reealliii.' 
 [lear, and tlie 
 rr to die, aii'l 
 |if I coukl die 
 
 [strain, when 
 |>lore3 gave a 
 
 i-ouud. Theu 
 
 ' Dolores ! Dolores ! Don't leave me ! 
 A voice came back through the gloom : 
 
 * H-s-s-s-h ! I must not stay any longer.' 
 ' But shall I never see you again V 
 
 ' Certainly ; I will come soon, and show you the passage-way.' 
 
 ' Where are you V 
 
 ' Never mind — good-night 1' 
 
 * Oh, Dolores, wait — one word more.' 
 
 ' Be quick !' said Dolores, and her voice now sounded nearer. 
 
 * You will see me again V said Ashby, in tones of entreaty. 
 ' You will not fly and leave me all alone i You will not leave me 
 in this way ? I may be taken away from this room, Dolores, or 
 you may be taken to another room ; and theu how can yoi' i,'et 
 to me ? Show me how you came here. You might do that much 
 for me. Only think what dangers there are.' 
 
 Dolores paused a moment. 
 
 ' Well.' said she, ' only promise one thing.' 
 
 * That you will not try to visit me. That would be dangerous. 
 Others are with me.' 
 
 ' I will not ; I promise — except, of course, in cases of the 
 greatest necessity.' 
 
 'If you do,' said Dolores, 'I shall think that you have not 
 come for me ; I shall think it is for the English maiden. And 
 now, conie ; I will show you the way.' 
 
 Once more Dolores ajjpeared through the gloom. 
 
 CHAPTER XXYIII. 
 
 IN ■\V1IICII 
 
 ' IIIS MAJESTY ' 
 
 FALLS IN LOVE. 
 
 Mrs. Russell's position was a very peculiar and a very trying 
 one. From the remarks of ' his Majesty ' she had reason to be- 
 lieve that her beloved, yet unfortunate, husband had been found 
 guilty of treason against that august monarch, and had been 
 executed. At the same time, ' his Most Sacred Majesty ' had 
 evinced what appeared to be a devoted attachment to licv 
 humble self. Now, what Avas a high-toned woman to do under 
 such circumstances ? Mourn over the departed one ? INIost cer- 
 tainly ; that she would ever do. But what about 'his Majesty" 
 and the royal attentions ? Should she turn a deaf ear to that 
 too, too eloqu 3nt tongue, dash down the crow-n of Spain, and 
 busy herself in unavailing regrets for the lost one ? Before 
 doing so it would be well to pause. 
 
 And then there were other considerations. It was not tho 
 man who must be considered, but the King. It was not her own 
 
152 
 
 d CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 feelings which she must regard, but the well-being of Spain, the 
 good of Europe, and the interests of humanity. Would it not 
 be better that the throne of Spain should be filled by a virtuous 
 Englishwoman than by some frivolous Continental princess ? 
 Would it not be better that the Queen of Spain should emulate 
 the domestic graces of a Victoria than the corrupt follies of an 
 Isabella ? Should she now, out of selfish private grief, deprive 
 Spain of such an inestimable boon V Would Spain forgive her ? 
 Would England ? Nay, would the world V Could she forgive 
 herself ? 
 
 ' Nay, nay,' she said to herself, ' this is not a time for weak- 
 ness. My heart must ever lie entombed in the grave of my dear 
 lost Johnny ; yet State reasons compel me to bestow my hand. 
 I cannot resist the cry of stricken Spain. Yes, thou royal wooer ! 
 take my hand — it is thine ; and my only sorrow is that I cannot 
 yet give thee all this stricken heart. Yet patience, fond one ; it 
 may all be thine in time — all — all.' 
 
 Katie was surprised to observe an unwonted dignity suddenly 
 come over Mrs. Russell. She informed that young person that 
 she needn't call her ' Auntie ' now, but ' Madame/ or * Sefiora,' 
 and proceeded to drop mysterious hints, from which Katie's 
 quick wit soon gathered the whole of the facts of the case. 
 
 Katie exulted so in this discovery that she felt happier than 
 ever m her life before, and her only trouble was that she had 
 no one to whom she might tell this. However, she did the best 
 she could, and set herself to the task[of confirming Mrs. Russell 
 in her views and intentions ; in which she was so successful 
 that the latter began to imagine herself as almost already on 
 the throne ; and when Katie once or twice accidentally ad- 
 dressed her as ' your Majesty,' the good lady did not check 
 her. 
 
 Another visit from ' his Majesty ' found Mrs. Russell like 
 ripe fruit ready to be gathered. On this occasion, as before, 
 the august monarch came alone. He was in high good-humour, 
 and smelt strongly of whisky. He began, in a strain of gal- 
 lantry, complimenting the ladies in general on their numerous 
 charms. 
 
 ' Yez oughtn't to be kept here undher lock an' kay,' said * his 
 Majesty,' ' an' raesilf 'ud be the proud man to let yez out, ivery 
 one av yez, but thin how do I know that I'd iver see yez agin V 
 I must kape yez till me fate's decoided. I don't know yet that 
 ye'd be willin' to come to terrums ; an' so ye're loike O'Rafferty 
 in the song : 
 
 ' " Ob, fine pair av handcuffa bo wore, 
 Tbat the sheriff bad nately adjusted, 
 Because tbat oflleial porsayvecl 
 Tbat O'ltall'erty couldn't be trusted." ' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALV. 
 
 '5J 
 
 it 
 
 liis 
 
 Lgin 
 
 that 
 Eerty 
 
 ' Ah, sire,' said lirs. Russell, with a sigh, ' your Royal Majesty 
 holds us by stronger bonds than bolts and bars.' 
 
 ' Be jabers !' exclaimed ' his Majesty,' * that's good ! that's 
 nate ! that's illigant ! I couldn't bate that mesilf, an' I hope 
 that all the ladies prisent will join in that sintimint.' 
 
 As he spoke, ' his Majesty ' looked hard at Katie, but that 
 young lady did not catch the royal eye. 
 
 ' The throne av Spain,' continued ' his Majesty,' ' an' the crown 
 an' sceptre av Spain, an' all the r'y'l regalia, an' all the moight 
 an' majesty an' magnificence av its pomp and power — be jabers 1 
 they're all goin' a beggin' in this room ; an' there's one hero 
 that's only got to wink, an' it's hers, every bit av it.' 
 
 Mrs. Russell here made desperate efforts to catch the royal 
 eye, but to no purpose, for that eye wirs fixed on Katie. 
 
 ' Yis,' continued 'his Majesty,' ' an' iifore to-morrow noon it 
 'ud be all hers, any time at all — crown an' scoptie an' all — an' 
 the marriage ceremony cud come off in the morniu', loiko Tim : 
 
 ' " Oh, married was Tim at tlic dawn av day ; 
 
 His bride was a stout owld widdy ; 
 She owned a horse, nu' she owned a shay, 
 An' her maiden name was Eiddy." ' 
 
 The habits of this illustrious being were singular, and his 
 tendency to make odd quotations, which were not always par- 
 ticularly relevant, was not the least surprising of his ways. In 
 this last quotation Mrs. Russell found several objectionable 
 expressions : but on the whole the idea was a ilatteriug one, 
 for the subject of the narrative was represented as ' marrying 
 a widow ;' and this little circumstance was taken as a fresh proof 
 of ' his Majesty's' devotion. 
 
 ' Yez mustn't think,' continued ' his Majesty,' ' that there's 
 any lack av our r'y'l attintion to yez because yez liaven't got 
 much to brag av in the way av food ; begorra ! I'm in the same 
 box mesilf, an' it isn't much at all at all I can get here except 
 mutton, an' it's mesilf that 'ud give all the mutton in Spain for 
 a bit av a pratie. Howandiver, I hope to get some fish by to- 
 morrow mornin'. If we could only get a taste av a few praties 
 there'd be nothin' wantin' ; for : 
 
 '"It's little I axes, 
 
 An' little I wish ; 
 If others want luxuries, let them ; 
 
 For praties and fish,' 
 
 Make an illigant dish, 
 If ye only have whisky to wet them." ' 
 
 These and other cheerful remarks of a general nature were 
 addressed by ' his Majesty ' to the company at large. It is 
 
w 
 
 154 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 true, the royal eye was fixed exclusively on Katie, and therefore 
 the royal remarks were probably so many efforts to do tlic 
 agreeable to her. But that young lady persistently evaded the 
 royal eye ; and as Dolores was disregarded altogether, it w.is 
 natural enough that Mrs. Russell should appropriate all the 
 royal remarks and make the necessary replies. 
 
 ' Ah, sire ! your " royal Majesty" is so very funny ! Are all 
 the crowned heads thus ?' 
 
 'All iv thim — ivery mother's son av thim. An' they're an 
 illigant lot. But moind this— it's mesilf that bates the whole 
 lot, out-an'-out. Ye know, I'm not only King av Spain, but 
 lioir to the crown av France.' 
 
 ' Is it possible ?' said Mrs. Russell. 
 
 ' Divil a loie I'm tellin',' said ' his Majesty.' * It's thrue, so it 
 is. I'm nixt av kin to Henri Cinq — that's Chambord, ye know. 
 The Count av Paris is Orleans, not Bourbon. I'm Bourbon, 
 begorra ! An' whin Chambord doics, an' the nixt revolution 
 takes place in France, I'll march on Paris an' give pace to that 
 unhappy counthry. An', be jabers ! I'll take me wife Avid me, 
 an' we'll live in Paris, an' I'll get her the most illigant dhresscs, 
 an' coort coschumcs, an' bonnets, an' boots, an' laces, an' gims, 
 an' jools that iver any woman wore. The Quane av Spain '11 
 be the Quane av France too ; an' what's more, she'll be the 
 quane of beauty an' fashion, an' the ex-Empress Eugouie '11 bo 
 nowhere. She'll be forgotten.' 
 
 It was thus that the royal wooer tried to dazzle Katie's ima- 
 gination ; but whatever the effect on her may have been, it is 
 certain that Mrs. Russell experienced the full effect of the 
 dazzling visions which those words were intended to call up. 
 
 ' An' now,' said ' his Majesty,' starting up, ' we must be ofl". 
 We've got business. But we hope to see yez soon, an' have it 
 all arranged. Whisper, darlint ' — and he bent down his royul 
 head close to Mrs. Russell's tingling ear — ' whisper, jool : I'm 
 wantin' to have a discoorso wid ye -some thin' important — I 
 must see ye alone. It's ill convaynient just now, an' I don"t 
 want to be overheard. I'll wait till the gyerruls are aslapc, 
 an' I'll luk in. Ye'll moind, will ye ? This night, jool.' 
 
 'Ah, sire — ah, " your Majesty," ' sighed Mrs. Russell, ' lai 
 read}^ — why not now ?' 
 
 * Whis-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sht ! shure ye'll spoil all, so ye will. Only 
 moind— to-noight I' 
 
 ' Ah, sire, I'll never forget — never — never !' 
 
 * Thin moind to be on the luk-out,' said ' his Majesty ;' and 
 with these remarkable words he retreated, leaving Mrs. Russell 
 in a state of mind Avhich, as the novelists say, ' can better be 
 imatjined than described.' 
 
'11 bo 
 
 ima- 
 fn, it is 
 
 ' Im 
 . Only 
 
 and 
 lussell 
 ttcr be 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPAiW. 155 
 
 CHArXER XXIX. 
 
 now IIAimY TAYS ANOTHER VI^>IT, AND MEETS WITH A STKANGE 
 
 ADVENTURE. 
 
 Harry's loneliness was by no means alleviated at finding that 
 Katie was so near. It was, indeed, rather aggravated, for to our 
 light-hearted friend it seemed intolerable that Katie should be so 
 near and yet so far. She was separated from him by only a few 
 paces, and yet he was compelled to keep away from her. To run 
 the risk of discovery was not to be thought of. By day it was 
 necessary to put up with his solitude as best he might. lie was 
 sufficiently wary not to forget himself, and he did not lose siglit 
 of the probability that he was watched. The discovery of that 
 passage-way made it seem not unlikely that this Castle in S])ain 
 was all honeycombed with other passages ; that its ponderous 
 walls were all a sham ; that these massive stones served merely 
 as a blind to conceal innumerable hiding-places and secret 
 chambers. He was sure now that these walls had ears, and 
 perhaps eyes also ; and therefore he determined to do nothing 
 which could lead to the discovery of his secret. 
 
 At length evening came, and then Harry began to breathe 
 freely. He was fully resolved on paying another visit to Katie 
 at tlie earliest possible moment. He knew that she Avould be ex- 
 pecting him. She would not be asleep this time. There were 
 many things which he "C^ished to say, and, above all, he wished to 
 persuade her to venture into the passage-way herself, at some 
 favourable opportunity, so that they might see one another more 
 fi'equently. 
 
 It was about nine o'clock when Harry entered the passage-way. 
 It was quite dark, the room being illuminated in ])art, as before, 
 by the struggling moonbeams. He went along the passage-way 
 and came to the end at the other chimney There he paused, autl 
 waited, and watched. Gi'adually he became aware of some one 
 beneath. He gave a low whisper : ' Katie !' A low wiiisper was 
 returned : ' Harry !' 
 
 Upon this he descended softly and noiselessly. Katie herself 
 was there. She had been expecting him. 
 
 * They ai'e all asleep,' slie said. ' I thought I'd just come here 
 to see if you were coming.' 
 
 * You little pet ! You knew I'd come.' 
 
 * I thought you might, you know.' 
 
 ' This day has been so horribly long, Katie ; I thought it would 
 never end. See here — can't we manage to run away ? I wish I 
 could find some way out. But you're chilly. This air is damp, 
 and there is a bad draught down the chimney. Come into the 
 corner of the room.' 
 
156 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPATX. 
 
 ' But, oh, do be very, very cautious !' said Katie. 
 
 Holdiug her hand* Harry weut stealtliily iuto the room, and 
 drew lier with him as quietly as possible, till they reached a 
 corner of the room on the right of the fireplace. This corner was 
 all shrouded in gloom, so that if the sleepers had awakened they 
 could have seen nothing. Here the two found themselves quite 
 secure for the time being ; and as all the room v/as perfectly 
 silent, they were not afraid to resume their stealthy whingers. 
 
 * Have you been lonely to day, Katie /' asked Harry in a tender 
 voice. 
 
 'Oh, a little.' 
 
 * A little V repeated he, in a reproachful tone. 
 
 ' But there's been such an awful lot of fun/ said Katie ; ' I've 
 been almost bursting to tell some one — that's you, you know.' 
 
 * Fun V said Harry wonderingly ; * what fun V 
 
 ' Oh, that absurd old Paddy King, Don Carlos, as he calls him- 
 self — only he's no more a king than I am. Don't you think he's 
 some strolling Ii'ish vagabond adventurer ]' 
 
 ' Irish vagabond ? I don't know,' said Harry. Now Harry 
 had only heard 'his Majesty' speak in Spanish, and therefore 
 did not see the point at all. 
 
 * Well, for my part, I'm sure he's an Irishman,' said Katie. 
 * Mrs. Russell says that he learned some English from an Irish 
 priest ; but that wouldn't account for his queer songs.' 
 
 ' Songs ]' 
 
 ' Oh, he's utterly ridiculous ! Who or what he really is I 
 cannot imagine. And, do you know, the best fun of all is — he's 
 in love with me.' 
 
 ' In love with you V Harry cried, recoiling as he said it. 
 
 ' Yes, of course — why not V said Katie. 
 
 * The infernal cad !' cried Harry. 
 
 ' Oh, what naughty language !' said Katie. ' Oh !' 
 ' D — n him !' cried Harry furiously. ' What does the fellow 
 mean V 
 
 * I declare I won't listen to such shocking language,' said 
 Katie. ' Now stop !' 
 
 ' Well — but what does the scoundrel mean V repeated Harry in 
 jealous wrath. 
 
 ' Well, he means to try — to marry me.' 
 ' Marry — you !' 
 
 * Oh yes ; and he says he'll make me Queen of Spain— and he 
 says he has a claim to the crown of France also, which he promises 
 to share with me.' 
 
 * Good heavens !' said Harry, in utter consternation ; for Harry 
 had not yet done more than vaguelj^ suspect that ' his Majesty ' 
 might be any other than what he claimed to be, and this design 
 of his upon Katie seemed now a peril of no common magnitude. 
 
d castlt: in spaly. 
 
 157 
 
 ' Why, Katie,' lie added, after a pause, * a royal persouage cau't 
 marry a private person like yon. It's illegal, you know.' 
 
 * Oh, but the tun of it is he's only ii commou Irishman, and he 
 drinks whisky, and has an awful brogue. Oh, it's such fun to 
 listen to him ! But the greatest fun of all h, auntie believes in 
 him. She thinks he is really Don Carlos ; anu, best of all, she 
 thinks he is making love to her, and proposing to hei.' 
 
 ' To her ! Why, she has a husband already.' 
 
 ' Oh, but she thinks he has been killed.' 
 
 ' Killed ? Good heavens ! Is that really so ? Poor old Russell ! 
 Oh, heavens ! The villains ! They'd do it, too.' 
 
 And Harry thought of the bonds and the search after them. 
 It seemed to him not at all unlikely that they had killed Russell 
 so as to get at these, or perhaps to punish him for not giving 
 them up. Horror now quite overwlielraed him. He felt even 
 shocked at Katie's levity. 
 
 * But Mrs. Russell,' he said ; ' how does she bear this horrible 
 calamity V 
 
 * Bear it ]' said Katie ; * why, she wants to be Queen of Spain, 
 and France too !' 
 
 * What, when her husband liea murdered close by ? Oh, 
 heavens ! — oh, good heavens i' 
 
 ' Well, do you know, it does seem very odd indeed.' 
 ' But you, Katie — how can you talk of such horrors in such a 
 way 1 What will be the fate of the rest of us, after this ]' 
 
 * Why, you poor foolish boy, you needn't scold and go on so. I 
 don't believe he's dead any more than you are. I believe that " hia 
 Majesty " only said it in fun. In fact, he never did actually say so.' 
 
 Harry sighed a sigh of perplexity. 
 
 ' But, you know,' continued Ka':ie, * Mrs. Russell went and got 
 it into her poor old head. Oh, she's very, very imaginative, poor 
 dear old auntie, and she would have it so. And she thinks that 
 all the speeches which " His Majesty " makes at me are intended 
 for her.' 
 
 ' The wretched creature !' said Harry ; * to speculate upon her 
 husband's death, and think of such a thing as marriage.' 
 
 ' Oh, but she says that it is not love that makes her think of it, 
 but State policy.' 
 
 ' State fiddlesticks !' 
 
 ' She says that Mary Queen of Scots married Bothwell after 
 her husband's murder, from motives of State policy.' 
 
 * Oh, good heavens !' said Harry, whose sense of honour and 
 loyalty and affection, and even of common decency, was utterly 
 outraged at such a revelation ; ' and she always seemed such a 
 quiet, good, well-meaning sort of a person.' 
 
 * But she means well now,' said Katie. * She says her marriage 
 is to be for the good of Spain and the world generally.' 
 
158 
 
 A CASTL£ LX SPAIN. 
 
 At this Hiirry was silent. lie could fin<J no more words to 
 express his feelings. Besides, altliongh all the words, ejaculations, 
 and exclamations above reported were uttered with as much 
 caution and in as low a tone as were consistent with his excited 
 feelings, still, they made more noise than was wise under the 
 circumstances, ancl there were signs that some of the sleepers 
 were restless. These, at last, attracted the attention of the two 
 and interrupted their conversation. Several heavy sighs from a 
 remote corner of the room showed that some one was awake, or 
 waking, and this warning forced them to keep silence for some 
 time. At length all was still, and Harry ventured to speak again. 
 
 ' Oh, Katie,' said he, * can't you do something with that wretched 
 woman V 
 
 ' No,' said Katie. ' I'm sure all I say only makes her worse. 
 She wants me'uow to address her as "your Majesty" !' 
 
 * She's mad,' said Ilarry ; * the woman's utterly mad !' 
 
 ' Well, she's got some great secret now which she won't tell. 
 As " his. Majesty " was leaving, the last time, he kept up some 
 very mysterious whisperings with her. I've been teasing her all 
 day to tell me what they were, but in vain. She's as close as the 
 grave. A great crisis is approaching. And the fun of it is she 
 doesn't know that it's me, and not her, that "his Majesty" means.' 
 
 ' You ! Oh, Katie, don't talk in that indiflt'ereut way.' 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 * Oh, don't you see ? You are here so much in his power. Oh, 
 we must fly. I'll hunt along the passage to-night, and I'm sure 
 I'll find something. I'm sure there must be a way out.* 
 
 ' But I don't want to go,' said Katie ', ' that is, not just yet.' 
 ' Not want to go V 
 
 * No, not till I have some more fun, and see how this is goin» 
 to end ; but ' 
 
 Here Katie stopped abruptly and clutched Harry's arm con- 
 vulsively. Ilarry, too, at the same instant started, and both 
 stood peering into the dark, and listening attentively. 
 
 For there had come a sudden noise. 
 
 It was a very peculiar and a very startling noise. It was a 
 low, shutiliug sound, as of some one moving stealthily, and it 
 arose from the direction of the fireplace — the very place where 
 Harry's retreat would lie in case of discovery. But now that 
 retreat seemed cut off ; and there seemed to be some one there 
 who, perhaps, had come on his track. Harry's only thought was 
 that his room had been entered and his absence discovered, upon 
 which his guards had at once come through in search of him. 
 How many there were he could not tell. He could do nothing, 
 however. He could only stand still and watch. Soon, he thought, 
 others would come ; lights would be produced, and he would be 
 discovered. 
 
A CASTLE /X SPAry. 
 
 159 
 
 * Leave mo !' said Harry, iu a fuiut whisper. * It's one of the 
 guards. I'm lost !' 
 
 Katie's answer thrilled through every nerve of the listeuer. 
 
 ' Then if you are lost, I will be lost with you !' 
 
 Sayiug this, she twined both her ;irni3 round his arm, and held 
 it pressed tight to her throbbing heart. 
 
 Harry stood erect, vigilant, staring. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 now SEVERAL OP OUR FRIENDS FIND TIIEMSELVRB IX A MOST 
 ' EXTRAORDINARY SITUATION. 
 
 So Harry stood, with his retreat cut off, staring into the dark- 
 ness, while Katie, clinging to him, awaited the result. JIarry 
 expected every minute that lights would be ])roduced and every- 
 thing revealed. Uut the lights did not come and the discovery 
 was delayed. TheiH) occurred a pause, during which Harry 
 waited, after which the sliding, shuttling sounds recommencetl. 
 
 They now came nearer. Tlieu came the sound of a stealthy 
 footfall — very slow, too, and very cautious. The new-comer, the 
 supposed pursuer, whoever he was, seemed now to be in the 
 room, and cf.utiously advancing. As yet lie was under the 
 sliadoN^ , and \vas, therefore, invisible in the gloom ; but he was 
 approaching the place where the moon-heams fell — where he 
 might be seen. Harry noted this, and wondered how many 
 more of them there might be. Katie also looked up now, and 
 stood listening. Both of these were waiting for a chance to 
 separate, if possible — Katie to go back to her own place, and 
 Harry to fly back to his room. 
 
 At length the advancing ligure reached the place where the 
 moonbeams fell, and here he entered the moonlight, so that it 
 was possible to see his outline, though not to distinguish features. 
 It was a man — he was unarmed, and all his gestures and motions 
 indicated excessive caution and watchfulness. Harry and Katie 
 both saw him, as he groped about and peered through the gloom. 
 
 ' It's "his Majesty," ' said Katie. 
 
 ' H-s-s-s-h !' said Harry. 
 
 The slight, whispered sounds seemed to catch the ears of the 
 visitor. He stood and listened. But the sounds were not re- 
 peated, and he resumed his progress. 
 
 ' I know who it is,' said Harry, in the faintest possible whisper. 
 
 'Who?' 
 
 * It's Ashby,' said Harry. 
 
 Katie said not a word iu reply, but the effect of that name 
 upon her was none the less manifest. The hands which had been 
 
 % 
 
i6o 
 
 A CAST/j; rx sPArx. 
 
 claspiiirr IFarry's arm relaxed tlieii' liold ; slio moved away fiom 
 hiia. Hairy cauglit lier hand and tried to dotain her, hut Katio 
 snatelied it away, and Harry was afraid lo insist. It was evident 
 that she was otl'eniU'd ; and at what / Was it at the mention of 
 Ashhy's name / And but ;i moment before she had said that whe 
 would share his fate — 'Then if you are lost, [ will l)e lost with 
 you !' Those were her worils. And now she was otlended ! 
 
 I Tarry couUl not believe it. Ho took a step after her and 
 found her ai,'ain. He sou^dit a<:;ain to take her lian«l. It was 
 not now refused. Katie seemed to have overet)me her irritation. 
 'I'ho quarrel w.'us over. So overjoyed Avaa lie, that he put his 
 arms round lier slender form, and uneonseiously pressed lior elose 
 to his heart, while her heail sank down on Ids breast. And 
 there, all tlie time, only a few ])aees oil*, was Ashby himself ! 
 
 lint the beauty of it was that Ashby just then was not think- 
 iuLf of Katio at all. lie liad come here to see Dolores. I'oi- her 
 lie was n>aking this venture, liavinif stolen in through the passa<;e- 
 way which she had shown liim. lie had promised, it is true, not 
 to isit her except in cases of extreme necessity ; but as ho liad 
 fell very lonely, he concluded that this was the necessity in 
 (]ue9tloii, and had come to this i)lace. a 
 
 The room seemed to him very silent. lie had come down the 
 chinmey witli very little noise, and had surveyed the scene from 
 the darl<i» recesses of the fireplat e. The corners of the room were 
 all in darkness, but the lloor was illumiuateil here and there by 
 the moonbeams. Having thus taken a general view, Ashby couKl 
 do nothing else but go forwanl ; and this he did, thinking that 
 everyone was asleep, and that by some hap])y luck he would llud 
 Dolores. 
 
 As for ]^'>lores, she was not asleep at that time, nor had she 
 been asleep at all. Katie had taken for grajited that the beauti- 
 ful Spaniard was in the laud of forgetfulness ; but Katie had 
 never in her life been more entirely mistaken. Dolores was wide 
 awake, and had been engnfj^ed in thoughts and speculations which 
 made sleep impossible. It 'vas nothing less than a plan of esca])o, 
 over which her busy brain was occupied, and there were certain 
 difliculties about it, through which she could not see her way 
 clearly. It w^as over these that she was puzzling her brain when 
 her attention was roused 1 > y certain strange movemeuta in the 
 room. 
 
 These were, first, the movements of Katie as she stole to the 
 fireplace and waited there. 
 
 Secondly, the movements of Harry as he shuffled down to 
 Katie's side. 
 
 Thirdly, the jn-eliminary whisperings of Harry and Katie. 
 
 Fourth)'-, the movements of these two out of the fireplace into 
 the corner of the room. 
 
.1 cast/j: in spaix. 
 
 i6i 
 
 from 
 Kiilio 
 itloiil 
 ion of 
 ;\i slu> 
 
 t Willi 
 
 I 
 
 >v ;vml 
 U w;iH 
 tivticn. 
 mt liis 
 w cloao 
 And 
 f! 
 
 thiiik- 
 b'or liev 
 (ansa go- 
 •ue, not 
 he had 
 saity ill 
 
 3wn tlio 
 lie fvi»in 
 
 )\\\ WOl'O 
 
 here liy 
 
 )y couUl 
 ug that 
 uld llud 
 
 liad she 
 
 beauti- 
 
 [tio had 
 
 fas wide 
 lis which 
 escajic, 
 certain 
 lier way 
 \n whoii 
 in the 
 
 to the 
 
 lowu to 
 
 tie. 
 xce iuto 
 
 Kiftlily, tlicir coiitiimouH whiMperiiiL,'^, which Monu'Unu'H Averc 
 BO animated that they niiglit have waUentMl any Hhupor. 
 
 Over .'dl this Dohires \\i\A (h'eply agitated. VVli.., Mho asked 
 heiHelf, was this vi.s.tor to J<atie/ It eoidd be one, and one 
 only. That one was AHhl)y ! She had shown him the way. lie 
 ah>ne knew it. Jl<' had pronMsed her not to come, l)ut he liad 
 lnoken his word iuid had come. And why / N()t for ht\-, hut 
 fer his Knghsh niai(U'n ! 'I'her(! were these tw(» now plottini; 
 and whispering in her jueseiice, and that, luo, after Asld)y liad 
 disowned with .seorn this i'lnglish maiden, and had spoken sm-li 
 woids to her! What could she do now / h'or such outraged 
 love, such treachery, and such intoleral'le insult, what revengo 
 could sullico { 
 
 J\evengo ! Yes, uotliing less than revenge! I'or Didores was 
 not one of those tender and sensitive creatures who could lie 
 down and die under a cruel wrong, lier aideiit Southern nature 
 was ro'ised to fury, and she vciiiained thcr*- motionless, but like 
 some wild beast ready to start from its lair when the])reyisat hand. 
 Away now went all thoughts of flight with Ashby. Vengeaiirt! 
 alone remained for her to think of vengeance" full ;ind compKle, 
 which should invi-lve both Ashby and the Mnglish maiden. Whatj 
 this vengeance was to be, howevi'r, she could not think of as yet ; 
 but she knew that in oriler to make it as full ;ind complete an 
 j)i)ssible, it would be necessary to think it all over from every 
 point of view. 
 
 In this amiable fr;tme of mind Dolores was thus waiting and 
 listening- stung to madness by every new whisper, and nourish- 
 ing her own rage all the more every moment — until at length she 
 became gradually aware of a sound proceeding from another 
 quarter, and not coming from the two whisperers in the corner 
 at all. There was some one in the fireplace — some new-comer 
 who had approached by that way. What did this mean .' Who 
 cuiild this be I Did others know of the secret passage-way ? if 
 so, then her surroundings were very ditlerent from what she had 
 supposed, and her whole course of actiou would have to be 
 changed. 
 
 Dolores watched, and at length >aw tlie figure of the new- 
 comer quite distinct iu the moonlight, yet not so distinct as to 
 enable her to ascertain who it was. The idea was so tirinly lixed 
 in her mind that the lii.a comer was Ashby, that she could only 
 sup])ose this new visitor to be one of the Carlists, perhajis ' his 
 Majesty' himself. 
 
 Meanwhile this new-comer had been stealthily movlMg along, 
 and Dolores watched and listened. Now was the time w liich she 
 might seize, if she chose, as the time for vengeance. If .his were 
 really one of the Carlists, above all, if this were ' his Majesty,' 
 bhe might Lave sweet revenge by denouncing the false traitor 
 
 II 
 
 ^'i^ 
 
1 62 
 
 A CASTLE IX SJ'A/X. 
 
 Asliby Dii llio spot, l)i'fc»rolio cciuld cHcapo. ft would ho Hswvi to 
 
 thudi 
 
 ace iiio (iiHiniiy oi tlio traitor wlu-n tlius discovi'ivd under iwv owu 
 eyt'8. Still, even in that hour of her inadneHs and her fury, she 
 felt that liefore takini,' the irrevoeable step and denouncinj,' Asliliy 
 it would l)e necessary to be perfectly a\ire. So Dolores waiUtl. 
 
 Meanwhile Ashby in his pro;;ress had passed beyond the place 
 where Dolores was, and lia<l travers(>d more Ihau ludf the ;ip;ut- 
 inent. At this moment he was at fault, and felt anxious to know- 
 where to direct his way. lie thou^dit the best way wouM lie to 
 try first if Dolorea was awake. And so, iu a thin, low, but very 
 distinct whisi)er, he said : ' J)o-lo-res !* 
 
 Dolores heard it. Well she knew that iu the castle there was 
 no one who called lier by that name — save one. Instantly a 
 wihl revulsion of feeling took ]»lace. She had mistakeu-tlio 
 first visitor was not Ashby. Ash by was not false, lie was true. 
 He had come, but he had come for her — herself. It was her 
 name that he called. h\ that sudden revulsion of feeling- she 
 almost shouteil for joy. She started up, and, regardless of every- 
 thing but her owu heart, was about to steal toward Ashby, win'ii 
 8udtlenly she was arrested iu her attempt. There arose another 
 sound from some one near the door. 
 
 ' Here, here,' said a whisper — ' here 1 am. llow long you've 
 been !' 
 
 Ashby heard this voice, and thinking it was Dolores, hurrioil 
 there. Dolores heard it, understood Ashby s action, and sank 
 down in consternation and desj)air. Katie and Harry heard it, 
 and thought it was 'his Majesty' on his way to Mrs. Ivussell. 
 And they thought that others of * his Majesty's ' followers were 
 iu the chimney. 
 
 Ashby saw a figure dimly defined iu the gloom. It was in- 
 distinguishable. He took it for Dolores. So he folded that 
 figure fondly iu his arms, and the 'figure' reciprocated to tlio 
 fullest extent. 
 
 'Oil, my owu love and darling !' sighed Ashby iu Spanish. 
 
 Mrs. Ivussell understood not a word of Spanish. She thou,!,'lit, 
 however, that if ' his Alajesty ' could express himself more freely 
 in that language, it was certainly quite natural for him to use 
 it ; yet it tlid seem rather unfair to her to come herojmd talk 
 love and use endearing expressions iu au unknown tongue. 
 ' His Majesty ' seemed very eloquent and strongly agitated, \(:i 
 Mrs. Russell could not make out what he said, nor" had alie a 
 chance to explain. For in the midst of all this there occuned 
 a new interruption. This was the sound of a key turning iu tlio 
 door. The door opened immediately behind Mrs. Russell, and 
 a soft voice said in familiar tones, and iu a husky whisper : 
 
 ' Whis-s-s-s-sht, darliu'— are ye awake, thin ? Sure I hoi)e the 
 gyerruls are aslape.' 
 
 III 
 
A LASTLi: IX SPA IX. 
 
 i6j 
 
 SWl'OI to 
 
 lu'vown 
 luiy. she 
 «f Aslihy 
 I waiU'd. 
 Llie |il;u'c 
 10 ajtiirt- 
 1 U) know 
 lid 1)0 to 
 but voiy 
 
 liero Avas 
 staiitly a 
 ken— tlio 
 was truo. 
 was lioi 
 )oliii,m slio 
 of evory- 
 iby, wlu'ii 
 ) aiiothoi 
 
 ng you've 
 
 s, liurrioil 
 and sank 
 
 heard it, 
 liussell. 
 
 ers were 
 
 i was iu- 
 ilded that 
 led to the 
 
 mish. 
 
 tliought, 
 bre freely 
 Ini to use 
 jiud talk 
 11 touijue. 
 [tated, yet 
 »ad she a 
 
 occurred 
 mo- ill the 
 fssell, and 
 »er : 
 
 hope the 
 
 ciiArTEii xxxr. 
 
 IN WIIKII THE WIIOLK I'AKTY I'lND THKM.SKLVKS IN' A 
 llAUNTKI) CASTM;. 
 
 At the ojiciiiii^' of tho (h)or and the sound of tho voico Ashl»y 
 started hack and retreated. Jle was very nuich pu/zlod at tho 
 Irish bro^'ue, and could only think that a stray I'addy nii,L,dit ho 
 aiii'iUi,' tho Carlists. However, there was no time to wait, so ho 
 HMiight to re<;ain tho firepljieo. lUit as lie did so a liijure canio in 
 his way, arms were Hung about him, and a low, faint whisj)er 
 came close to his ear : 
 
 * Oh, Aasebi ! 1 am Dolores ; that other is Mrs. iJussell. Fly, 
 or you are lost I' 
 
 ilero was a new shock for Ashby, but lie did not lose his 
 ])iraence of mind. Tho new-comer was still at tho door. Jlo 
 was not followed. All this ho noted as he stood for a moment 
 or so hohling Dolores in his arms. 
 
 As for Mrs. liussell, nothing could exceed lier amazement 
 and terror when 'his Afajesty ' came in behind her at the very 
 moinent when she supposed herself to bo in 'his Majesty's' 
 arms. It was unintelligible— nay, even frightful. 
 
 ' Weren't you — your Majesty— liere — just now V .she stammered. 
 
 'Me! Us! Here! Divil a bit av us! We've just come,' 
 was the reply. 
 
 ' 15ut who was it ] Some one was liere.' 
 
 ' Some one V said * his Majesty.' ' Oh, maybe it was our r'y'l 
 footstep.' 
 
 'No— but some one was talking Spanish.' 
 
 'AValkin' Spanish, ye mane,' replied the august mouarch, 
 '.Sure nobody's been talkiu' Spanish here at all at all.' 
 
 ' Ihit, your Majesty, some one was here — talking to me — close 
 to me.' 
 
 ' Shure it was one av the gyerruls.' 
 
 ' No ; it was a — a man !' 
 
 ' A man !' exclaimeil ' his Majesty,' in surprise. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' What ! here in this room 1' 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 * Shure ye've been dramin'— so ye have ; or else — maybe it was 
 the castle ghost.' 
 
 ' The ghost 1' groaned Mrs. Russell. ' Oh, your Majesty ! Oh, 
 my own one ! Oh, save me ! Don't — don't let it come near me !' 
 
 And, flinging her arms around the royal person, Mrs. Russell 
 clung to it, sobbing hysterically. 
 
 II — 2 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 l< 
 
 * Sliure— whisht, will yez, or yf '11 waken up the gyerruls,' said 
 the monarch. *I'll jjrotect yez, if ye'U let me ; so I will.' 
 
 ' Oh !' said Mrs. Russell, clinging more closely to * his Ma- 
 jesty,' • do you hear that i' 
 
 ' What V 
 
 ' That noise !' 
 
 ' What noise V 
 
 ' I heard a wow- wow-whisper!' sobbed the lady. 
 
 ' A whisper — nonsinse !' said ' his Majesty.' 
 
 'Oh, listen!' said Mrs. Russell, holding him tight, so that he 
 could not get free. At this ' his Majesty ' remained perfectly 
 still, and listened. Thei'e certainly were some low, indistiuet 
 sounds, among which were whisj^ers. 
 
 'Shure it's the gyerruls,' said 'his Majesty.' 'That's wliat 
 it is.' 
 
 « Oh, look I look !' cried ISIrs. Russell. ' The gliost ! the ghost !' 
 
 And with a loud cry Mrs. Russell fell back. ' His Majesty ' 
 encircled her with the royal arms, and gently deposited her ou 
 the floor, standing thus in deep perplexity. But at this instant a 
 sight caught his eye which made him start. It was Asliby's 
 figure traversing the room, through the moonlight. He had 
 waited up to the last moment, and had just taken his departure, 
 but as he moved along the lloor towai'd the chimney, the royal 
 eye saw him. 
 
 ' Be jabers !' said •' his Majesty,' ' ghost or no ghost, I must see 
 to this. The castle's haunted ;-s sure as a gun, but that isn't the 
 figure an' farrum av a maydoiay val ghost, so it isn't.' 
 
 Mrs. Russell now revived, and struggled up to her feet. 
 
 ' Is — is — it gig-gig-gone V she asked with a shudder. 
 
 ' Sorra a one av me knows,' said 'His Majesty.' 'I'm goiii^^ 
 to invistigate.' 
 
 ' Oh !' wailed Mrs. Russell, ' leave me not — oh, your Sacied 
 Majesty, desert me not !' 
 
 'Shure, I'm only going to get ioights,' said 'his Majesty.' 
 
 ' Oh, forsake me not ! Be not so cruel !' 
 
 * Crooi ! Ah, be off wid yer nonsinse !' said * his Majesty.' 
 * Whisht now, jool — sure I'll be back in a jitiy. If it's any one 
 that's got in, I'll find him whin I come back ; an' if it's a ghost, 
 why, it's just as well to know it.' 
 
 ' Oh, your Majesty,' cried Mrs. Russell, *do not forsake lue! 
 Without you it is too — too— too horrible I' 
 
 * Shure, ain't I telling yez,' said ' his Majesty,' ' that I'm ouly 
 goin' to get Ioights, an' that I'll be back in a jitf'y ? Be quiet, now, 
 an' it '11 be all right.' 
 
 With these words ' his Majesty ' tried gently, but firml}', to 
 disengage Mrs. Russell's clasped arms from about his neck. This 
 he found much diiiiculty in doing j but at length he succeeded 
 
ruls,' said 
 
 I.' 
 
 'his Ma- 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 30 that he 
 
 I perfectly 
 
 iudistiuct 
 
 liat's ■\vliat 
 
 the ghost !' 
 3 Majesty' 
 ted her on 
 is instant a 
 as Asliby'.s 
 . He had 
 departure, 
 /■, the royal 
 
 I must sec 
 at isn't the 
 
 eet. 
 
 ' I'm going 
 
 our Sacred 
 
 esty.' 
 
 Majesty.' 
 t's any one 
 i's a ghost, 
 
 Drsake me! 
 
 ,t I'm ouly 
 quiet, now, 
 
 fir ml}', to 
 .eck. This 
 succeeded 
 
 165 
 
 in {jotting free. After this he went out, locking tlie door behind 
 lam. 
 
 After about five minutes be returned with a blazing torch, fol- 
 lowed by half a dozen men, who remained outside awaiting hia 
 sunnuons, while ' his Majesty ' alone went in. The moment that 
 the door opened to admit him, some one came rushing into his 
 arms with such violence as almost to extinguish the torch and 
 upset the royal person. ' His Majesty ' recovered himself, liow- 
 evcr, and uttered several ejaculations, which in any less distin- 
 guished person would certainly have sounded like profanity. 
 
 ' Be aisy, now, will yez V he said, in a milder voice, ' an' howld 
 away yer arrums, jool, till I invistigate the primisis. If it's a 
 liviii' man I'll fix him ; an' if it's a ghost — begorra, I'll let him go.' 
 
 With these words ' his Majesty ' succeeded in extricating him- 
 self from the clutches of Mrs. liussell, and, holding alof . the torch, 
 began to walk about the room, looking closely everywhere, while 
 Mrs. Russell followed at his heels, entreating him to take care of 
 his royal person. 
 
 'Arrah, shure, now,' said ' his Majesty,' 'we're accustomed to 
 
 danger. 
 
 We don't moind throilles like this — not a bit av it 
 
 ' " Foi* (livil a bit av mo caves, 
 
 I'm ready to tackle the too ; 
 If alive, let him fitjlit if ho dares. 
 If lie's dead, to the dogs let him go." ' 
 
 By this time the noise and the flaming torches had seemed to 
 rouse up Katie and Dolores. Both of these now stood up, blink- 
 ing and shrinking, clinging timidly to one another, and U)oking 
 like two frightened children just awakened. They seemea so 
 surprised, so confused, and so terrified, that the heart of ' his 
 Majesty ' swelled with pity and comi)assion. 
 
 ' Ladies ! jools !' said he, ' don't, don't give way. fShure, it's all 
 over now, so it is, an' yez needn't be a bit afraid any more.' 
 
 ' What's all over ]' asked Katie, in a tone of alarm. 
 , ' What ] Why— shure nothiu'.- 
 
 'There was some one in the room,' said Mrs. Russell in 
 frightened tones, 
 
 ' Some one in the room !' cried Katie in a voice so full of 
 terror that it became a positive shriek. ' Oh ! oh ! oh ! Who \ 
 who / What \ what .<' 
 
 Never was terror more elot[uently depicted on any human face 
 than on Katie's expressive countenance on this occasion. She 
 flung herself into Dolores's arms and clung to her. ]>olores said 
 nothing, but clung to Katie in silence. 
 
 ' Alarrums av this sort,' said ' his Majesty,' ' isn't shuited to 
 their delicate, narvous systems— so they isn't. I've got a dhrop 
 
166 
 
 A CASTLE LY SPA IX. 
 
 av wliisky about me, if But I suppose they wouldn't care 
 
 for it.' 
 
 Witli these words 'his jNLijesty ' .'ipin-oachu'l Katie for tlu' 
 purpose of sootlunr,^ lier, or of })ayin,L!,' hor some delicate coinjili- 
 inent, but Katie contrived to keejj Dolores between herself ami 
 the royal wooer Mil the V,. W. felt ballled. 
 
 * Shure, it's very disthressin', so it is,' said he, as he turneil 
 .away. 'J>ut I'll take a luk round.' 
 
 lie looked all around, walked by the walls, gravely peered into 
 the fireplace, and at length came back. 
 
 'There's no one here,' said he. 
 
 ' But I saw some one,' said Mrs. Jxussell. 
 
 'Shure, thin, ii was no livin'man ye ,,aw, and there ye have it.' 
 
 ' No living man !' screamed INFrs, Russell. 
 
 ' iShure no ; how could it have been l Wouldn't I a seen Jiini, 
 an' me wid a loight T 
 
 ' Then it's a ghost !' said JMrs. IJussell, with another scream, 
 
 ' Divil a one else,' said ' his ]\[ajesty.' ' It's the castle ghost- 
 only I don't see why he came in modern coschume. JUit perhaps 
 it isn't the castle ghost. It may be the last prisoner tliat was 
 shot.' 
 
 This last suggestion was unspeakably horrible to Mrs. Bussell. 
 Well she knew who that last jirisoner was ! The last prn()n-:r ! 
 Oh, horror ! and the a])parition was ]i ! And ll had come to 
 h'V ! — embraced her !— spoken words of love ! It was lie / — hei' 
 once loved but now lost Johnny ! 
 
 The thought was too much. With a wild yell, she llung her 
 arms round " his Majesty ' and fainted. 
 
 ' It's mtsilf,' said ' his ^Majesty ' placidly, ' that 'ud be the proud 
 man to shtay here an' watch wid yez agin the ghost, but jiUy 
 calls m^ elsewhere.' 
 
 As he said this, he tried to detach the arms of Mrs. ]bissell, 
 who now clung to him with rigid and death-like tenacity. This, 
 hoAvever, he could not do, and as her weight was considerable, he 
 gravely seated himself on the iloor, and implored Katie and 
 l)olores to help him. This they did, and their \inited ell'orts 
 succeeded in loosening Mrs. BaisseU's gias]). The stricken lady 
 gave a gasp, and raised her head, but 'his Majesty' was too 
 nimble for her. By a desperate movement he withdrew from Ik i' 
 reach, and stood for a moment at a respectable distance. 
 
 'Ladies,' said he, 'it's mesilf that 'ud be the proud man to 
 shtay ; but there's no danger in the worruld — not the laste in 
 loife, an' this lady requires your care. So I'm thiukin' I'll be oil', 
 an' if anythin' luippens agin, you sing out.' 
 
 Saying these words, ' Ids Majesty ' left the room somewhat 
 mere hurriedly than he had entered it. Ilis departure completed 
 Mrs. Eussell's prostration. For the remainder of the night she 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 f- 
 
1 CASTLE IX siwrx. 
 
 X(q 
 
 ilcln't cavo 
 
 ie for tile 
 itc conijili- 
 lorself and 
 
 lie tnnicil 
 
 )ecro(l iiili) 
 
 y'c have it.' 
 
 seen liini, 
 
 scream, 
 tie ghost— 
 ut |)erha])s 
 r that was 
 
 "S. liussell. 
 
 pri><on-ji' I 
 %(\ come to 
 
 lie /— lier 
 
 thing her 
 
 the proud 
 but jiity 
 
 s. riiissell, 
 ty. This, 
 erahk\ ho 
 vatic and 
 cd ollorls 
 ckeu huly 
 ' was too 
 from her 
 
 \\ mail to 
 e laste in 
 I'll be oti; 
 
 somewhat 
 comi)leted 
 night she 
 
 refused to be ooniforted, but remained territit'd, lanieiding 
 l);tterly, ami exclaiming incessantly, 'Oh, why did he leave me I 
 — why, oh, why did he leave mo !' , 
 
 CHAPTER XXX [[. 
 
 IX wnicn UAKRY ^makks an unti.kasant ms( ovkry. 
 
 TTarry bad been the first to escape from the room, lie had 
 waited h)ng, fearing lest others might be in the cliimney ; ])ut at 
 lennth, as the actions of the new-comer did not seem consistent 
 with tho.se of a pursuer, lie had concluded to risk it. He had then 
 entered the chimney, and was able to reach his own room in 
 safety. Aahby had not left until the very last moment, when the 
 door had already opeiied to admit 'his jNIajesty,' so that the two 
 had not met. IJut IFarry, on reaching his own room, stood for a 
 long time in the firei)lace, listening ; and as he listened, he felt 
 sure that he heard sounds, and these sounds seemed as though 
 made by pursuers. Upon this he Hung himself upon his bed, 
 where he lay motionless for nearly an hour, until it seeniecl 
 scarcely })ossible that there could be any further danger. 
 
 He now thought of returning to the room, but after a little 
 consideration decided not to. No doubt they would all bo awake, 
 ])erhaps also others might Ije there, and to go back might lead to 
 discovery, and destroy all further chances of seeing Katie. tStill, 
 the thought would not be dismissed. Sleep was impossible, and 
 he lay awake, recalling the events of the night. 
 
 At length there occurred to his mind the thought of those 
 Spanish bonds which he had found and hidden away so carefully. 
 lie had not visited the pkice since, or rather, he had not looked 
 at the hidiug-])lace. He determined to do so now merely for the 
 sake of reassuring himself as to the safety^ of those precious 
 pa])ers. I'^or Katie's fortune lay wrapped up in that parcel, and 
 lie was anxious that he should be the means of saving it for her. 
 In addition to this, he was anxious to search carefully along tiie 
 passage-way, to see if there might not be openings which had 
 thus far escaped him— which might possibly lead to the outer 
 world. 
 
 lie provided himself with his torch and found that he had 
 mabdies enough. He then climbed up into the passage-way, and 
 lighted his torch ; after which he jiroceeded onward until he 
 reached the chink where the jiackage had been deposited. Here 
 he stooped down and held the light close. 
 
 The iirst sight showed nothing, liut the string which he had 
 left hanging out was, as he knew, not very ])ercei)tible, so he held 
 
 the light closer and felt for it. 
 
 Even then he found nothing. 
 
Tr,s 
 
 J (WSTr.r. rx siwrx. 
 
 \\{> now tliounlii that pciliiiiw llic pjukiii^c lia:l fallen l»y its 
 own AV(M\i;Ii( a littl(> farlluT i?i, (Irawinsj; tl>e sti-in".' .li'lcr il. In 
 ordor to liiiil wlu'tlicr this woiv ho or not, l\o roiUiiod his liand 
 into tho <.'hink. 
 
 No sooiior h;ul he <lone this than he snatehed it away, and sat 
 there slarinj;". 
 
 'J'he ehink was very nuich larger tlian it had hoen before. 
 
 There was no iloiibt about this. 'J'heii it iiad been barely wide 
 entni^h \o admit the paekas^e. Now ho couUl easily thrust his 
 whole arm into tiie opening,'. 
 
 It was uttoj'ly nnaceountable. Wy some incomjjrehensible 
 means that ereviee had been enlarsj^ed. The whole stone, ho now 
 saw, had been tlirust forwarvl several inches into tlie i)assa,ije- 
 Avay. It seemed as if nothinff short of an earth([uako could 
 suliice to move from its j)laeo such a stone as that. In itself it 
 a])peared to be of vast size and weii^ht, and below it, and above 
 it, and ou either side, were others e(iually vast. 1 Tow was it 
 possible for such a rock to bo thus dislodged I ]>y an oartlnpiake I 
 l?ut nothing!: of the kind had occurred. Jle was a li<.dit sleepei-, 
 and was easily aroused by anythinif unusual. (Jould the castle 
 liavo 'settloiW lm[H)ssible. It was too old. it liad long since 
 sliakeu down into its deep bed. Still, old buildings (h) often 
 settle, and in fault of any better explanation ho was compelled to 
 adopt something like this. 
 
 In any event, there seemed very great danger that the packag(> 
 had been hist. Again and again he thrust his arm far in, but 
 found only vacancy. Then he put his hand downward as far as 
 ho could. It touched something which felt bke a stone pave- 
 ment. This pavement was about eight inches lower than the 
 one upon which he was. All this ukuIo the matter still more 
 ineomprehensiblo. 
 
 Hut 1 Tarry had come forth to seek after this very thing, 
 namely, some mysterious ojiening into a sido-nassage, an<l aftir 
 the first sur))rise it occurred to liim that this might be what he 
 wished to find. And now tho fact of the stone jutting foitli 
 became intelligible, though this new oxjilanation jiromised ill for 
 the safety of t!io jiaekago. It was evident that this stone was 
 movable, and atl'orded in some way an entrance to this passage. 
 It seemed strange tliat so vast a stone should be movable, yet 
 there was tho fact. Perhaps also it was loss massive than it 
 seemed. Perhaps it was a more slab and oponetl like a ch)or. 
 
 P)ut how ] 
 
 lie now examined its surface witli the most careful and minute 
 scrutiny. In vaiu. Over all tho surface and over all tho edges 
 there was nothing that indicated any means by which such a 
 stone could be movoil — nothing of the nature of hinges, and 
 nothing of the uutuie j s ii,:' die, by which to grasp it so as to 
 
A cAsrr.F. fx siwrx. 
 
 169 
 
 |- tliiiKj-, 
 (I aftrr 
 hilt lie 
 ■^ forth 
 
 ,\ ill fnV 
 
 fue was 
 ^assago. 
 l)le, yet 
 Llum it 
 lor. 
 
 eilgos 
 Isuch a 
 and 
 |o as to 
 
 movo it. Vol. Il wan movable, and li.'id hccii iuo\t'd lalrly. I\r- 
 liapM it could lio luovod without aJiy 1h'I|) fi'oiu ;i handle. 
 
 He now thrust his arm (hrou^^di, and, t;tMs|iinLf it, ])ulled at 
 it with all I'M streniflh. .1 lis utmost ellorl, howevi-r, made no 
 impression. ll(^ found that thci stone was niassivt; williin as 
 \vitli<>ut, that it was no thin slal), hut one which liis ai-ni could 
 not surround -at least eii;liti'en inches in solid thickness wlier(> 
 liis arm lu'ld it. Vet the stone did move, and had heen moved. 
 'I'lu' matter hecamt^ now more incompreliensihle than ever. It 
 could he moved. It had heen moved, yet there was a secret eon- 
 liivance here; into which he could not penetrate. Again tli(» 
 Ihouglit came to him of the ]tackage which contained Katie's 
 Souu' one had heen here. Had thai one found lli(> 
 
 fortiuu 
 
 ])ickage? It nuist he so. Fool that he was! v\ second time 
 lia,d that precious package heen (k'posited in what seemed a secure! 
 liiding-place, and ;i second time had the hiding place proved 
 almost a j)ublic thoroughfare. 
 
 For what seemed a long tiuu; Harry examined that stoiu\ 
 In vain. 'J'ho wall arose hefori; him impenetral)le. The stone 
 was immovable. \(ii that stone seenu'il now to him to IkjM 
 within itself the secret not only of the i)ackagi', hut also of 
 escape, and of liberty a,nd life. 
 
 Harry at length felt like giving up. Once more, however, 
 lliough now (juite hopelessly, he examined the stone in every 
 direction, pressing with all his strength upon eveiy part. And 
 ii()\v in this, the very moment t)f his utter hopelessness, as often 
 happens — at the very time when not expecting it, he found 
 what he sought. 
 
 At the extreme end of the stone, more than six feet from the 
 crevice where he had hidden the package, he pi'cssed upon it, and 
 found that it gave way. The pressure was not at all strong ; yet 
 to th.it slight ellbrt the ap[)arently massive rock yielded like a 
 door, and moved inward several inches. In unsj)eakal)le amaxe- 
 leent and intense excitement ITarry pushed it in ■ 'Jier, until he 
 saw the whole move in, at his pressuie, for aboi.u two foet. An 
 opening was discU)setl. lie stepped in and looked around. Jle 
 fuimd himself iu a kind of chamber, which was about four feet 
 wide and eight feet long. At the end of this was a stone stair- 
 way which went down. Harry looked around, and took all this 
 ia at a glance. His II rst thought was about his package. The 
 ])ackage was not there, lie liad been prepared for this, yet the 
 iUsap[)oiutment was bitter. Still there was consolation in the 
 discovery which he had made, ami his excitement and curiosity 
 were yet strong, lie naturally turned his attention to that stone 
 wliich formed so wonderful a doorway, autl which had so long 
 biilUed him. 
 
 He saw that at the eud, near the crevice, the stone was 
 
T/O 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALX. 
 
 nl)out <M'<j;lilccn iiiflios tliick, but that it was all cut away toward 
 tlie t)tlior end, till it ended in a islal) of only two inelie.s in 
 tliiekness. One endof tlie stone was tlins a vast bloek, while the 
 other was a comparatively thin slab. He now nnderstood the 
 whole eonstrnelion. At the thick end the door was set with 
 stone pivots, into sockets above and below, by means of which it 
 Avas easily moved. The reason why he eonld not move it at lirst 
 was becansc he was exertin<,' his strength near the hin<,'e, or 
 ])ivots, where, of course, it was thrown away ; bnt as soon as he 
 had touched the farther cdi(e, it yielded to a slight pressdre. 
 liere, inside, there was a. sione handle by which it was easily 
 ()])ened, while, outside, he thonjjfht that it was closed by swiiii;- 
 ini^- it as one went out, so that it went by its own weight into 
 its ])lace. 
 
 After all, there was nothing very K^range in this. Harry had 
 read about such stone doors. In th*. accounts of tlie jNloabite 
 cities, mention is made of something of the sort, and as those 
 liave lasted for three thousand years, this one might well hist for 
 several hundred. 
 
 P)Ut the ])ackagc ! There were no traces of it. Atthehingo 
 eiul of the slab there was a wedge-shaped stone, by inserting 
 which here the door couUl be secured against opening from with- 
 (mt. Into this wedge-shaped crevice he had tlirust the ])ackage. 
 Ife saw also that in pushing it far in he had only secured its dis- 
 covery, for lie must have pushed it so far that the first one who 
 passed had found it. Nom', who could that have been \ Who- 
 ever it was, the ])ackMge was gone. No doubt it was one of tlio 
 C'arlists, who had taken it to their leader. It was gone beyond 
 all ]>ossibility of recovery. 
 
 Harry hail been so taken up with his examination of these 
 things that he had forgotten all about the necessity of caution. 
 lie stood there thus, in thought, the torch brightly burning, when 
 suddenly he was roused by some one rushing up the ste])s. lie 
 darted back into the passage-way, and banged the stone door 
 after hiu). Too late. In an in.stant the pursuer was upon him 
 and had caught at his coat-collar. 
 
 But Ilairy was not the man to give u)) at the first attack. 
 Quick as lightning, he drew forth a revolver from his breast 
 pocket, and, hastily cocking it, turned to confront his assailant, 
 One look "was enough. 
 
 ' Ashby !' he cried. 
 
 * You scoundrel !' cried Ashby, in a fury. ' Scoundrel ! villaiu ! 
 traitor !' 
 
A CASriF. r.\ SPAf.W 
 
 171 
 
 ClTAPTllR XXXTTT. 
 
 i\ wiiK Fi TiFKitr: IS A ^■^■,I:Y I'ur.TTV (J^^\I;nKI.. 
 
 Ix order to jiccomit for tlio slrango and shockiiiyly riido liui[,'n!i<ro 
 of Asliby, which must hu as astniiishiuif (o tho ruiidor as it was 
 to Harry, it will bo necessary to <^o hack a little. 
 
 You Kce, then, my dears, immediately after Harry's iiiL;)it, 
 Ashhy also had hurried away, and had reached his own room 
 ■without furtlier adventure. He now began to think tiuit ho 
 had acted with mad folly and recklessness ; yet at the .'-ame time 
 ho could not l)ring himseir to re.i^ret it at all. lie had seen Dolores, 
 and that was enough, and tlie hunger of bis heart was satisfied, 
 \ov the ])rescnt at least. 
 
 Like Harry, ho had a sense of being pursued, which kept him 
 for a long time on tho watch, until at length ho began to feel 
 safe. All tho circumstances of his recent adventure now camo 
 to his memory. Oik; thing amidst it all gave him great p(!r- 
 plexity. Who were in that room V Tliere liad been others, and 
 he had heard tho motion of one in particuhir behind him — souio 
 one who seemed to bo moving under the cliiinney. Then camo 
 the arrival of 'his TJajesty.' I'ut who was that other one V 
 Ashby did not like the appearance of things at all. 
 
 After a time, as his conlidcnce ])ecamo restored, ho began to 
 tliiidc of going back again, just, as he said to himself, for tho 
 sake of listening at tlie chimney, and seeing that all was right. 
 Putting it in this plausible way, tho thought became too 
 tcmjjting acne to bo resisted, and at length ho started on his 
 way back. 
 
 The passage-way, with its secrets, had already been sliown 
 him by JJolores. It started from the chimney, and after a few 
 feet camo to some steps which ascended to the second floor, upon 
 Vi'hich were situated the rooms of Harry on the one side and tho 
 ladies on the other. The steps thus led upward toward the very 
 passage-way which Harry had been traversing. How they 
 opened into that passage-way, however, has yet to bo ex- 
 plained. 
 
 As Ashby reached tho foot of the flight of stops ho became 
 aware of sounds, which brought him to a full stop. Instead of 
 going back, however, he waited. Hidden in impenetrable gloom 
 at the foot of tho steps, ho could listen, and there was no fear 
 of his being seen. His only idea was that tlie Carlists were 
 closing up the way. 
 
 At length ho noticed a faint gleam of light, and after a short 
 interval ho noticed that it grew brighter. Ho then saw the 
 stoue door open inward. As he watchetl he did not move, being 
 
172 
 
 A CAS77J': IX SPAfX. 
 
 too eager to know what was coming, and feeling confident in his 
 own obscurity. 
 
 And now, as he watched, ho saw TTarry'.s face suddenly reveal 
 ilseli", as it was lit np by the flaring torch. Yes, it was Harry, 
 and there he stood, examining everything in the manner already 
 described ; and Ashby was a witness of all his proceedings. 
 
 As Ashby looked, there came to him a multitude of dark and 
 gloomy susjjicions. 'So, then,' he tliought, ' Harry knows all 
 about this passiige, and, if so, he must know where it leads to. 
 And where was that ? It Avas to only one i)]ace — that one 
 room alone, And what would Harry want there, and what 
 would he liu'^ ? He would iind her — Katie !' J 
 
 Now, although Ashby was full of Intter resentment against 
 Katie, and was, perhaps, quite in earnest in all that ho had said 
 about her to Dolores, yet when ho had this fresh confirmation 
 of something like an nnderstaiuling between these two, he be- 
 came filled with the bitterest jealousy and indignation. 
 
 He luid already felt something of these same feelings . He had 
 seen Harry Avith his own eyes paying devoted attentions to 
 Katie, though he knew that Katie was engaged to him. It was 
 this Avliich had made him turn away from her, for he had seen 
 that she Avas false to him. Yet his resentment against her did 
 not lessen his jealousy, nay, it intensified it. Ho regarded 
 Harry as guilty of an oll'ence Avhich Avas at onoo the Avorst and 
 the most unpardonable. He had been falso to his friend, and 
 that, too, immediately after ho had received that friend's fullest 
 confidence, and had promised that friend his most energetic 
 assistance. Could anything bo Avorso than this V 
 
 And noAv Ashby saw through it all. Harry had traversed 
 that passage-Avay. Ho had been in that room. He had seen 
 Katie. Of this ^ > had not a doubt. And Avhat noAV ? No 
 doubt he Avas pro, j; about to try to find some Avay out, so 
 that ho might escape with Katie. 
 
 Ashby Avatched Avith all these bitter thoughts in his miml, 
 until at length he could endure them no longer. Ho determined 
 to confront his former friend, his present enemy, and meet him 
 face to face ; to charge him Avith his perfidy, and seek for ven- 
 geance. With a leap, ho bounded up the steps. Harry re- 
 treated, yet not so fast but that Ashby caAight np Avith him, 
 and grasped him as ]^ ■\yas flying. Then Harry turned, pistol 
 in hand, and the two*tood face to face. 
 
 ' Ashby !' cried Harry. 
 
 And Ashby cried out : 
 
 'Scoundrel I villain! traitor!' 
 
 His face Avas Avhite, and his voice hoarse with passion. 
 
 Harry was confounded. ^ 
 
 ' Hang it, Ashby ; don't you know me ? Are you mad ?' 
 
A CASTl/: AV SPA/X. 
 
 173 
 
 * Know you !' cried Aslihy bitterly. ' Thank lieawn, I do 
 know you! I've found you out, you infernal sueak, you! 
 K"ow yon ? Good licavcns ! yes, 1 know you Tor a scoundrel, 
 arii'( a contemptible, double-dealing interloper and villain !' 
 
 Harry stood aghast, 
 
 ' What in the name of ITeavcn is the meaning of all this V 
 
 ' you've been in that room !' cried Ashby, pointing up the 
 passagc-Avav. 
 
 'Well, what if 1 have?' 
 
 ' What if you have V You know what you went there for V 
 
 Thus far Harry had been too much amazed to understand 
 anythiu;.. Hut now ho l)egan to .see what it all meant. 
 
 'Oh, ho!" Haivl he ; 'so that's it V 
 
 'That'sit! of coium- iliat's it!' fried Ashl)y. 'Isn't that 
 enough? sneaking after that girl, w]\vu you know that she is 
 mine. What the devil have you got to say for yoiirsell' V 
 
 At this Harry began to I'ouse himself. He didn't feel like 
 defending his conduct, and now, as was /latural, took icfuge in 
 a li.'ht. 
 
 'Confound you!' ho cried; ' wliat do you mean by such 
 insults as these'? Who arc you':' What business is it of 
 yours ?' 
 
 'She's engaged to me. I took you inlo my confidence, and 
 you've turned out a traitor and a sneak.' 
 
 Harry drew a long breath, and instantly recovered his usual 
 coolness. 
 
 ' My dear sir,' said he, ' you have a ju'etty talent for scolding. 
 Nature evidently intended you to be an old wcmuin ; but doesn't 
 it strike you that this sort of thing isn't customary among 
 gentlemen, and that you are making an infernal fool of yourself ? 
 Do you suppose I'm to ask your permission where to go in this 
 castle ? I found this passage-way myself, and hope to find 
 others also. And, by Jove !' he continued, as at this moment 
 the thought of the lost parcel came to him, ' there's one 
 matter I should like to settle with you before we go any 
 farther.' 
 
 ' We shall have to settle several matters.' 
 
 * I left a parcel in this place a short time ago. It was a very 
 valuable one. I should like to ask you if you have it ?' 
 
 ' I ? I, sir '? I have your parcel ?' 
 
 ' I don't mean to say that you if^ffk it knowing it to Ijc 
 mine.' 
 
 ' Oh ! you don't, don't you V 
 
 ' Mr. Ashby, will you give me a frank answer to a fair rpies- 
 lion ? Do you know anything about that parcel?' 
 
 'Parcel? Pooh!' said Ashby, who thought that this was 
 some transparent trick of Harry's to account for his presence 
 
1/4 
 
 A CAS Tin IX SPA/X. 
 
 here. ' Confound you and your parcels ! I know nothing about 
 
 thoni. I ' 
 
 ' I ask you, did you pick up that parcel V 
 ' And I say, confound your parcels !' 
 
 Harry was growing quite as furious as Ashby. He now felt 
 certain that Ashby had found it and ha<l it in his possession. 
 He considered Ashby's answers as papablo evasions of a direct 
 (picstion. 
 
 ' Well, then,' he said, ' I say that if you still keep that parcel 
 after I claim it, that you are keeping property that is not yours, 
 and you know what that means !' 
 Ashby gave a bitter laugh. 
 ' This is a hint that I am a thief,' said ho. 
 ' And a very strong one, too, I rather think,' said Harry. 
 * Do not imagine that you have any claims to that package 
 arising out of any previous relations to a certain young lady V 
 ' A certain young lady !-- a package ! What do you mean V 
 I neither know nor care. I only know that you and I must 
 settle accounts with one another.' 
 
 ' By Jove, that's one sentiment in which I agree !' 
 * If I hadn't found you here, I might have only suspected ; 
 but now that I've found you, I do not merely beUcve, but know- 
 that you are a ' 
 
 ' Confound you ! if you begin your infernal abuse again, 111 
 blow your brains out ! I haven't got your talent for scolding. 
 If you want to settle accounts with me, come along like a man, 
 and don't stand there jawing like a fishwife.' 
 
 ' By heavens ! that will I— and here ' 
 
 ' Here ! pooh ! Come along to my room.' 
 ' Lead on — I'll follow.' 
 
 At this Harry led the way, and in a short time, followed by 
 Ashby, be once more reached his own room. 
 
 And so it had come to this ! The friends who, a few days 
 before, had been so intimate, so confiding, and so affectionate, 
 now stood face to face as f( es, glaring at one another with do- 
 fiance in their eyes and bitter hate in their hearts. Each 
 thought he had received sufficient provocation to seek the life 
 of the other, and each thought that he had received from the 
 other insults which could only be wiped out in blood. 
 
 Harry felt sure that Ashby had found the package which ho 
 had concealed so carefully, and was holding it on the ground of 
 his engagement to Katie. Such a right Harry might possibly 
 have conceded to Russell, as Katie's guardian, especially as lie 
 had been the one who last had held it : but to Ashbv he ncvcf 
 would surrender at. As to Ashby, his bitterness and jcalou>}' 
 have already been fully set forth, and they were now more in- 
 tense than ever. 
 
A CASTLE L\ SPAfX. 
 
 KS 
 
 Ilai'iy stuck tlio toi'th iu a lu)lh)W stono in tlio floor which 
 [ippoarocl to have been inado for that purpose. Thou he turuod 
 to Ash by. 
 
 'Now, sir,' said Ashby, ' you have already heard.' 
 
 ' No more, I be:,'.' said Harry ; • not a word. Let's fiL(ht like 
 gciitlcnicn, not jaw like bullies. 
 
 ' Xo.' 
 
 'That's unfortun;itc. There's 
 
 pistol may be needed.' 
 ' No,' said Ashby bitterly. 
 
 Have you a pistol V' 
 
 no knowing at what time a 
 
 If I had known that you would 
 prove a Hcound ' 
 
 'By heavens I' roared Harry, 'if yon don't shut up III put 
 a bullet through you 1 Do you hear? Come now,' he con- 
 tinued, growing cooler, ' we've both said onougli, more than 
 cnougli. llemcuibor that when two gentlemen meet in mortal 
 combat the timo for insult is over. We have no seconds. Let 
 us try to imitate the punctiliousness of seconds in our treat- 
 ment of each other. Do you consent ':" 
 
 Ashby bowed. 
 
 'And now, Mr. Ashby,' continued Harry, 'as you say you 
 have no pistol, is there anything else that you can suggest 'i 
 Have you a knife ?' 
 
 ' Nothing but a penknife.' 
 
 ' Ah, that's very unfortunate. If we could only get hold of 
 a couple of rifles from our friends here outside, we should be all 
 right, but there's no use in hoping for that. Our ransom is too 
 high for them to risk losing it. And so, as far as I can see, the 
 only thing left is for us to use this one pistol of mine.' 
 
 'One pistol ? How can both of us use one pistol V 
 
 ' We must. There's nothing else to be done.' 
 
 Ashby shook his head. 
 
 ' I don't see how,' said he. 
 
 ' It's plain enough,' said Harry. * We can take it turn about.' 
 
 ' But the man who fires the first shot has an immense advan- 
 tage,' said Ashby. 
 
 ' Pardon mo,' said Harry ; ' that does not necessarily follow. 
 Ilo may hit his foe, of course, but the wound may onlv be a 
 trilling one after all ; or he may miss his shot altogether*. It 
 often happens so in duels. Moreover, as you very well know, 
 hi a duel it never happens that both fire at the same instant. 
 One always fires a little before the other. So in our case it will 
 simply amount to this, that one of us will fire a little before the 
 other. In that case the first man may miss, and the second 
 man will then come in for his turn.' 
 
 ' But how shall we decide who is to fire first ?' said Ashby. 
 
 ' Oh, that's easy enough,' said Harry ; ' we can toss up.' 
 
 ' Oh, very well.' 
 

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 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
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 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
 
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176 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPAIN. 
 
 n 
 
 ' Have you a coin V 
 
 'Not one.' 
 
 *Nor I — not a copper, even. The beggarly Carlists have 
 drained me dry.' 
 
 ' We must find something else," said Ash])y. 
 
 ' Oh, there needn't be any dilficulty about that. A button 
 ■will do quite as well.' 
 
 And with this Harry cut one of the buttons from his trousers. 
 
 ' This will do,' said he. ' The face of the button will bo 
 " head," and the back of it " tail." And now, will you try it V 
 
 He handed it to Ashby, who took it without a word. 
 
 ' If it falls " heads," the first fire will be yours ; if 'tails," the 
 first fire will be mine.' 
 
 ' Very well,' said Ashby ; and then, poising the button for a 
 moment, he tossed it. - • 
 
 It fell, head nppermost. 
 
 'Heads!' said Harry. 'INFr. Ashby, the Sist fire belongs ti) 
 you. Here's the pistol. It's loaded. I'll take my position here. 
 Shall I measure the distance ?' 
 
 ' Pardon me, Mr. Rivers,' said Ashby ; 'but I cannot accept 
 this from one throw. It must be the best out of three times.' 
 
 ' I don't see why.' 
 
 ' I should not accept it under any other conditions.' 
 
 ' Oh, very well. Let us both act so as to satisfy one another." 
 said Harry. ' In that case you had better toss .again.' 
 
 Ashby now picked up the button, and tossed a second time. 
 This time it fell face downward. 
 
 ' Tails !' said Harry. ' Once more, and that decides it.' 
 
 Ashby picked up the button and gave a final toss. The 
 button fell. Thi^s time it was in Ashby 's favour. It fell face 
 upward. 
 
 ' Heads !' said Harry. ' It's yours, Mr. Ashby. Will you 
 take the pistol ?' 
 
 Ashby hesitated. 
 
 ' I think,' said he, ' we had better arrange our places.' 
 
 * Very well. At what distance ?' said Harry. ' Shall we say 
 twelve paces ?' 
 
 * I should think so.' 
 
 Upon this Harry began by the fireplace and walked for 
 twelve paces along the lloor. Reaching this place, he stopped. 
 
 ' Will this do ?' he asked. 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Very well ; and now, which place will you take ?' 
 
 ' Either.' 
 
 ' In that case we must toss up again for choice oi posi- 
 tions. But, first of all, it will be necessary to move this tjicli, 
 so that it shall be equally favourable.' 
 
A CASTLE IX SPALW 
 
 '^77 
 
 button for a 
 
 Saying this, ITavry walked over to the torch, and carried it, 
 together with tlie stone, to a pla-je which seemed iihoiit mid- 
 way between tlio two positions. Iferc he set it on tlie L,a()iiiid. 
 
 'And now, Mr. Asldjy," said Harry, ' wc must toss u[» for 
 pliu'es.' 
 
 • Very well.' said Ashby ; ' but you had better toss tliis time, 
 as I did it last time.' 
 
 To this Harry made no objection. He took the button, and 
 tossed it. This time luck was favourable, and he won tlie choice 
 of positions. 
 
 'Well,' said ho, Tm quite indifTcrcnt ; but, as I have tho 
 choice, I suppose I may as well choose the place out there in 
 the room. In that case you Avill stand hero in front of tho 
 fireplace.' 
 
 ' A'cry well,' said Ashby, "who thereupon tool: up his place 
 there. 
 ' Have you anj' plan to propose as to firinj,' ?' 
 ' None whatever.' 
 
 ' I've been thinkinfj of one which I will mention. You may 
 have a better one. The unarmed one shall <,nve the word, or 
 drop a handkerchief. Will that do? If you prefer for tho 
 one who fires to give the word — very well. Only I think that 
 tho word had better I'c given.' 
 ' Certainly,' said Asid)y, 'and I quite agree to your proposal.' 
 ' Very well,' said Ilirry ; ' and now, Mr. Ashby, here is tho 
 pistol. 
 
 Saying this, he handed the weapon to Ashby, who took it 
 with a slight bow, but in silence. 
 
 Harry now measured off twelve paces once move, and reached 
 the spot which he had before marked out, upon which he turned, 
 and, standing erect, faced Ashby. 
 
 ' Mr. Ashby,' said he, * are you ready ? If 30, take aim, and 
 I will give the word.' 
 
 Ashby raised the pistol and took aim. Tho weapon covered 
 Harry, and he knew it. He knew also that Ashby was a ' dead 
 shot.' But not a nerve quivered. He stood up there as straight 
 as a ramrod, and then, in a calm, clear voice, with his usual self- 
 possession, said : 
 ' One ; two ; three. Fire /' 
 
 For a moment Ashby stood with his pistol thus covering 
 Harry. 
 Then his arm fell. 
 
 ' I cannot,' said he — ' I cannot fire, in cold blood, on an un- 
 armed man.' 
 
 Now, had Ashby stood thus, with a pistol, in the full heat of 
 his first fury, ho Avould have fired, Avithout stopi)ing to thiidc ; 
 hut the effect of their enforced courtesy to one another, and 
 
 12 
 
i';8 
 
 A CASTLE LY SPAIX. 
 
 more particularly of tlio somcwhai tedious preliminarioi«, had 
 been to calm and even chill his hot anger, and to subdue all his 
 fierce excitement. As he stood there, with his pistol levelled, 
 and saw Harry's cool, calm face, it seemed like butchery. Jlo 
 could not fire. And so his hand dropped down with tliis ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 * But my turn is to come.' 
 
 * Oh, that's nothing,' said Ashbj'. ' You may have your turn 
 now, if you choose.' 
 
 * Oh lio,' said Harry, ' I can't take my turn until after } on 
 have fired ; and the worst of it is. I don't see how we can settle 
 this difficulty, if we don't do it now.' 
 
 ' Other chances will, no doubt, occur,' said Ashbj'. 
 
 * Pardon me,' said Harry, ' th^t is hardly probable, and, l)o- 
 sides, that will not help the matter. In fact, it Avill only make 
 it worse. For you seo, if some time should elapse before siidi 
 a meeting, the recoliection of this affair would be so faint tl\;it 
 I could not go into it with any spirit ; whereas now I am all 
 cocked and primed. So fire away, my dear fellow, for I really 
 don't want to have an aft'air of this sort hanging over me the 
 rest of my life. We must have it out, and now's the time.' 
 
 "■ Will you not fire first, Mr. Rivers V said Ashby earnestly. 
 
 ' Oh no, that would make all our pv parations childish,' was 
 the reply. ' We have appealed to Fortune, and her decision has 
 been given.' 
 
 Ashby drew a long breath. 
 
 ' Mr. Rivers,' said he, * I cannot shoot an unarmed man in coM 
 blood.' 
 
 * But what can we do ?' said Harry. 
 
 * Why, we may be able to borrow a couple of rifles, or even 
 one rifle, from our friends here.' 
 
 Upon this a voice rang out, full and clear, in the room : 
 ' Begorra, an' that same they'll do. Whoroo, lads ! this bates 
 the worruld, so it does. It's mesilf that's stud by the dure for 
 the last tin minutes, an' I've seen a soight that I won't forget 
 till me dyin' day. It's loike the toime whin the Irish exiles at 
 Fontenoy marched up to the English gyards an' said, " Gintle- 
 men av the English Gyards, fire first !' Begorra, it's mesilf 
 that 'ud be the proud man to lend yez the loan av a couple av 
 guns ; but don't be alarrumed, darlints — after yez pay yer ran- 
 shom, ye'll have a chance.' 
 
 At the first sound of that voice Harry and Ashby started in 
 amazement. So intent had they been on their own business 
 that they had heard nothing ; and Ashby, though facing tiie 
 door, had been so intent on Harry that he had not noticed that 
 it had been half opened. Now they saw the Carlist chief conio 
 
 in, followed by half a dozen of his men. Most 
 
 amazmg 
 
 of all 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA IX. 
 
 rn 
 
 liminaric?, lia<l 
 subdue all liis 
 pistol levelled, 
 butchery. He 
 I with this cx- 
 
 havc your turn 
 
 until after jou 
 w wo can setllo 
 
 iby. 
 
 )bable, anel, bo- 
 will only make 
 pse before sudi 
 ae so faint thiit 
 IS now I am all 
 low, for I really 
 ug over me the 
 "s the time.' 
 hby earnestly. 
 US childish/ was 
 her decision lias 
 
 med man in coM 
 
 )f rifles, or even 
 
 the room : 
 
 lads ! this bates 
 Iby the dure for 
 y "l won't forget 
 [e Irish exiles at 
 
 I'said, "Gintle- 
 
 rorra, it's mcsilf 
 av a couple av 
 
 rcz pay yer ran- 
 
 ishby started in 
 [r own business 
 ])Ugh facing the 
 lot noticed that 
 ■rlist chief come 
 amazing of all 
 
 was the discovery that he spoke English with an Irish brogue. 
 Katie had already mentioned this to Harry, but he had not 
 thought much about it. Now, face to face with ' his IMajesty,' 
 they wore able to look at hira with other feelings Had he 
 entered under other circumstances, he would have talked 
 Spanith ; but so excited was he that he burst forth in the 
 nianuor above detailed. 
 * For ye see,' said ' his Majesty ' — 
 
 ' " Mcsilf docs admire the best, 
 
 Av all that's undlier the sun, 
 To stmid lacin' the friend av mo sowl, 
 
 Wid blunderbus, pistol, or pun. 
 The word av coniraaud it is Riven, 
 
 The weapon we both av us raises, 
 Afther which — sure the one laves for Lome, 
 
 An" off goes the other to blazes!'" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 now THE VIRiUOUS RUSSELL FINDS A FRIEND IN NEED. 
 
 It is necessary here to go back for a brief interval, in order to 
 take up the fortunes of one who some time ago disappeared from 
 these pages. 
 
 The virtuous Russell was alone. He had passed a night which, 
 considering his situation, had not been altogether uncomfortable, 
 lie had slept a refreshing sleep, and in the land of dreams had 
 been able to forget the ills of life. Morning came, however, and 
 with his waking thoughts there returned the recollection of the 
 past, and the full consciousness of his present position. He was 
 a captive in a prison from which he could not hope to escaj>e ; at 
 the mercy of a powerful and cunning enemy, who knew his secret, 
 and would use every effort to get his money. If he refrained for 
 the present from exerting violence, it was only 1. 1 probable that 
 this forbearance was but temporary, and that at the last the pri- 
 soner must yield. These were gloomy thoughts, and the good 
 K\issell was well-nigh overwhelmed. 
 
 But the greatest calamities are often alleviated by comparative 
 triiles ; and so it was a trifle which, on this occasion, served to 
 soothe the sorrows of our sufl'ering friend— such a trifle, in fact, 
 as a mere costume. Whether it was that, being a tailor, he was 
 more affected than otheri by his raiment ; or whether it wjia 
 that a man's dress has, as is claimed, a potent influence which 
 always attects the wearer, need not be discussed ; certain it is, 
 that just now it was his novel attire which chiefly engaged the 
 thoughts of Russell, and made him less sensible of his misfortunes. 
 
 As a dress it was certainly maguifieeut. The cloth was of the 
 
 12 — 2 
 
iSo 
 
 A CASTLE /X SPA/X 
 
 ! 
 
 H' 
 
 mW 
 
 I 
 
 'iii 
 
 ii !l 
 
 finest quality. floUl was lavished freely upon it — gleaniiiifj in 
 the numerous buttons ; shining in the profuse lace whicii glittert'(l 
 over the breast and round the full's and round the collar in a llood 
 of !,'Iory ; sparklin>,' in the hathand ; flowing down the skirts like 
 the oil from Aaron's beard, ^lanyatime had his own fancy de- 
 signed and his own hands fashioned such an array as this for 
 others; but now, as it enfolded his own an)ple i)erson, it shoiio 
 with new lustre, and threw something of its own lustre around 
 the wearer. 
 
 And now, as the actor, when arrayed in the robes of majesty, 
 assumes a kingly port and struts about the stage, so our Kussoil. 
 He took to himself the part which the luuform suf'gested. Jle 
 felt like the general of an army, ]Ie threw out his chest,stooil erect, 
 strutted, admired his figure and his gait, waved in his hand au 
 imaginary sv/ord, and guided invisible armies to the field of battle. 
 
 In the midst of all this he was suddenly roused by a slight 
 noise behind him. Turning hastily, he saw a woman who had 
 entered bearing some articles of food for his morning's rop;i..st. 
 In a moment llussell descended from the lofty heights of ima- 
 gination to the dull realities of cold world, and, in plain lan- 
 guage, began to feel rather sheepish at being discovered in such a 
 frame of mind. Nay, this very frame of mind, this new sense of 
 personal dignity as general, made his chagrin all the greater. 
 
 The woman was attired in a ])ictures(]ue costume, such as is 
 worn by the lower orders in the North of Spain, with the addition, 
 howevei', of a bright-coloured turban, iter face was decidedly 
 handsome, though rather too sharp in outline .and ex])ression, 
 while at the same time decidedly the worse for wear. A pair of 
 fine bold black eyes were fixed upon Russell with an expres- 
 sion of undisguised admiration as she stood looking at him. The 
 moment he turned she looked down, and then, dropping a coiu- 
 tesy, said : 
 
 ' Breakfast, seiior.' 
 
 Upon this she deposited her tray upon a heavy oak table, and 
 then stood looking at him with the same expression as before. 
 There was something in all this which was flattering to the vanity 
 of Ivussell ; and he stood regarding the woman with very muoli 
 complaisance. And as he looked at her, he thought to himself 
 that she was a very pretty woman. 
 
 The woman then said, still looking at him : 
 
 * Beaut'ful ! Oh, lovela I' 
 
 She spoke in broken English ; and Russell, while flattered by 
 her admiration, was delighted at hearing his own language. 
 
 * Do you speak English, my dear V he said, in a tone of affec- 
 tionate familiarity, drawing nearer to her. 
 
 * Oh yes— me speek Inglees— me in Cuba— learn speek luglecs 
 vara mooch.* 
 
A CAST/./: /X SPA/y. 
 
 iSi 
 
 H)h ! so youVc been in Cuba, have you, my dear ? Woll, 
 Ciiba'.s a very pretty country, and you're a very pretty woman.' 
 
 The woman smiled, siiowinj^ rows of splendid teetli, 
 
 ' Senor mus' be a gran' nobile— a f^enerale,' 
 
 Jiusaell smiled a lofty smile, and laid Ids band patroni/iu;^dy, 
 yet tenderly, upon the woman's shoulder. 
 
 ' Vou are a very sensible woman,' said he, ' and as pretty as you 
 are sensible. What is your name /' 
 
 ' Kita,' said the woman. 
 
 ' Well, liita, I dare say you ami 1 shall be great friends.' 
 
 ' Friends ! oh, seiior is too nuich niagnilieo ' 
 
 'Oh, I ain't proud, my dear — not a bit, not a ndte. I've got 
 plenty of money, ]{ita, and can helj) my friends ; but I ain't 
 proud, not me. And what may be your i)articular duties in this 
 establishment ?' 
 
 * Seiior V 
 
 ' I say, wbat do you do here ? Are you housekeeper V 
 
 * Seiior, I am nuvid — to the lady prisoners — an' other things — 
 to Hcrvar and atteudar.' 
 
 ' J'risoucrs, eh I 13o they liave many of them liere ]' 
 'Oh — sometime,' said Ivita, with a laugh ; 'ladies and gen'l'ms.' 
 liussell looked at her with a benignant smile. 
 'Well, liita, all tliat I can say is, it's a \nly that such a pretty 
 woman as you cannot have some better fortune than this.' 
 Ivita laughed. 
 
 * Ah, seiior, you a flattera !' 
 
 *0h no. I'm a plain, blunt, bbill", honest John I'ull. But the 
 fact is. you are very pretty, llita, my dear !' 
 
 Ivita laughed ago in at this, and her large black eyes fixed 
 themselves with bolder admiration upon the benignant face and 
 si)lendid dress of the gallant tailor. 
 
 Here a hajipy thought occurred to llussell's miml. 
 
 It was evident that this woman w^as already an admiring friend. 
 Could he not, in some way, work upon her so as to attract her to 
 his interests ? Her help would be invaluable. She might, if she 
 chose, do much ; she might even help him to escape. It was 
 worth trying. To win her over to his side, there was nothing 
 wliich he would not try. But liow could he get lier help ? By 
 bribery? Of course, to a certain extent; but it would be well 
 to be cautious, and not ofTer too much. Other means might be 
 used. By gaining her good-will, she would be more accessible to 
 a bribe, and would be less exacting. 
 
 Now, Russell was sharp at a bargain, and by no means anxious 
 to pay more than he could help. Even where his own liberty, 
 even where his life was concerned, he paused to consider the 
 expense. He resolved to bribe this woman, but to name no 
 price, to let it be undecided, to agree in a general v-ny ; and 
 
i! 
 
 183 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 afterward, slioiild lie snccci'tl in ^'ainiiit,' liis libort y, to cut tin- 
 nniouiit down as low as possible, lie also resolved to put money 
 out of the <|nestion a*i far as he could, and work upon her «,'ood- 
 will and her afl'ections, rather than her avarice. The woman's 
 open, undisi^uised admiration Beenied to promise an easy eoiKjucst. 
 To him she apjieared to have a frank, j,niileless, imjjetuous dis- 
 position, all of which was a great help to the furtherance of his 
 uesit:;n8. 
 
 Kussell looke<l all around. 
 
 *C)h,' said Jlita, 'do not fear — all away.' 
 
 'Come, my dear,' said lUissell ; 'sit down here by my side ; 1 
 want to talk with you.' 
 
 Russell seated himself on an oaken bench, and Itita promltlI\• 
 seated herself by liis side. She sat by him, and lookeil at him 
 with a smile, anil with the same fervid admiration, 
 
 'The pretty child!' thoujfht Kussell, as he caught the glance of 
 her glowing eyes. ' JIow slie does admire me !' 
 
 ' So you are an attendant here, are you, llita, my dear r In 
 naked. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' But it isn't good enough for such a pretty woman as you arr 1' 
 he continued. 
 
 'All, sefior, what do you mean V Anxd liita. * What can 1 du 
 better V 
 
 * But you ought to be something better— far better. Would 
 you not like to ' 
 
 ' Like what V asked Itita, who was full of excitement. 
 
 * Well,' saitl Kussell, ' to have plenty of money, to have beaut i- 
 ful clothes, to live in a beautiful house, to have jewels, to havu 
 amusements, and so forth ]' 
 
 Kita's dark eyes fl;ished fire with eager covetousuess at tin's 
 alluring s])eech. 
 
 ' Oh, senor,' she said, ' it is impossible.' 
 
 * Rita !' said Russell, iu a solemn voice. 
 'Senor!' 
 
 * Look at me.' 
 
 * Si, senor.' 
 
 Rita had been looking at him all along fixedly enough, but at 
 this invitation she threw additional earnestness into the (lit|i 
 glance of her bold, dark eyes. 
 
 'You see what I am, Rita, my dear. I am a prisoner—in 
 grief, in despair. Now, if any one would help me, I could do 
 very much for that one.' 
 
 ' You are a gran' nobile V said Rita, in an inquiring tone. 
 
 * Oh yes,' said Russell, in his large way ; * and, what's more, I 
 can make you happy for the rest of yoiir life. I like you, Rita. 
 I'm quite fond of you. You're an uuconuni idy pretty woman.' 
 
 I : ; 
 
A CAS /■/./■: AV S/'A/X. 
 
 1S3 
 
 ;ousuess at lliis 
 
 Sayinff il^i^^, lliissell took llita's liaml and in-cHHod it with lunrh 
 emphasis. Now, tlie iiiU'ri)retati<iii wliich l.'ita |»iit upcii tlii'so 
 words and tin's acli(»n was wry dilleiTnl fruiii what Kussi'll iii- 
 (ciidt'd. The l)eiii<,Miaiit llnssoll iiicicly wishcil to iiii|tn'ss \\\u)n 
 llita's niiiid that lio had very frioiidly ft'clin^s towani Imt, and 
 that, if she woidd hidp liirii, ho was in a position to icw.ird her 
 handsomely. He didn't, want to name any sum. \lv wished, for 
 obvious reasons, to leave the amount unsettled. Ihit l\ita under- 
 stood it dillerently. IJeini,' of a sentimental tuiii, she re;,Mrded 
 this jw a sort of declaration of love — in faet, almost an oiler of 
 iiiarriaife — and, if not so altofjether, at least an approach to it. 
 Still, she was a shrewd woman, and waited until iiussell had 
 explained himself further. 
 
 Uu.ssell observed her silence, and was<|uite satislied. H showetl 
 proper caution, and cauti(»n was an excellent (piality in (»ne whom 
 lie wished to htivc! for a helpei- in his need. 80 he went on in 
 the same way, still holdini,' JJita's hand. 
 
 ' Vou are ho pretty, IJita, my dear, I fiwear f never before saw 
 such a pretty woman. This isn't the place for you. Vou must 
 get out of this ; and if you will only (,'0 away with nie, why, 
 tliere'.s nothin«j that I wouhln't do for you. When I like a per- 
 son, I'm rea<ly to do anything,' for them. And the first moment 
 I saw you, I said to myself, "Thei'e's the woni in for you I'" 
 
 * Am I really the woman for you i' asked Itita, full of excited 
 hopes, and still contiuuint,' to misinterpret his words. 
 
 'The very one!' said I'ussell. 'The one of all others! 
 J leaven has scut you to me. IJita, my dear, do what J 
 ask !' 
 
 Kita was deeply moved. This brilliant, wealthy stran,!:,'er 
 seemed to love her. He wanted her to fly with him. But oh, 
 if he should prove false I 
 
 ' Ah, seiior, you not earnest— you not true !' said llita, clasping' 
 his hand in both of hers. 
 
 'Ti'ue! earnest!' cried Jiussell. 'I swear, Kita, my dear, I 
 will be true to what I say — always, always! Can't you trust 
 me, Itita, my dearl' 
 
 ' Oh, seiior,' sighed liita, deejily moved, ' you persuade mo too 
 easy. And think on the danger — the life is risk — the death will 
 come if we are captura.' 
 
 * llita, my dear,' said Itiissell, * let us not talk of danger. Let 
 us fly together. I will always remember your devotion. I will 
 never forget you as long as life lasts. I aiu noted for my truth 
 and fidelity. I've got a warm and throbbing heart. And now, 
 Jiita, my dear, if you want one who will always be yours truly 
 —if you want one who will love you and care for you— why, I'm 
 your n)an !' 
 
 Upon these wordfi liita put, as u-sual, her own interpretation. 
 
184 
 
 1 aisT/j: /x sr.i/x. 
 
 The lii>l words <.s|icTi:illy— * I'm your iiKiii '— sccniod to licr to bu 
 till' most (liritt Dlli-r vet. 
 
 ]i\ 
 
 imd will yi)ii he my m;ui, soilor 
 
 ' My man /' she said 
 
 '()f course — of course/ said Kussull, not cumprehciidiug lui 
 drift. 
 
 Ujion this liita ihini,' her arms around th». neck of the astonishv >1 
 Eussell. 
 
 'Oh, seiior— tlieii- 1 liel|)a you. I yours — I do all. We lly — 
 you be true — to your Jtita.' 
 
 I'usst'll was so astonished that for some time ho said nothin;^' ; 
 hut feelini,' how important it was to retain her friendshi|), he diil 
 not dare to disahuse her of her false idea ; nay, he even felt that 
 it would he hotter lor her to entertain it, since «he had it. ^So lie 
 put his arm around her and kissed her. 
 
 tSuddoidy Ivita started up. 
 
 * I mus' <,'(),' she said. * 1 w ill soon return.' 
 
 And with these words she hurriedly retreated, leaving liussell 
 to his breakfast and his meditations. 
 
 IJussell had been very successful in his attempt to win over 
 I'ita to his interests ; in fact, too successful. His success caused 
 him at first not a little perplexity. Jtita, he perceived, had mis- 
 understood him ; hut then, iu making friendly advances to a 
 woman who was not very well nj) in the English language, it 
 "Was next to impossible to preserve those nice and delicate shades 
 of meaning which he ha ' intended. Upon the whole, however, 
 after mature consideration, he concluded tha*; it had all turned 
 out for the best. 
 
 It was evident that this woman had formed a very strong 
 attachment for him. Very well. She would be all the more 
 devoted to his interests, and turn all her thoughts and energies 
 toward securing his escape. Things couUI not have turned out 
 better. He had not intended it, hut if liita chose to misunder- 
 stand him, why should he try to undeceive lier ? The more she 
 cared for him, the better it would be for him. And thus lius.seil, 
 out of his selfish desires iov his own safety, allowed himself to 
 trifle with the heart's best allections, and beguile poor liita, and 
 allure her with hopes that could never be realized. 
 
 After all, however, there were grave obstacles in his way. 
 Could he desert liis wife and leave her iu such peril ? Or, worse, 
 could he leave those precious bonds, which he had so carefully 
 hidden ! If he did, he might never see them again. 
 
 Was it possible to get them before leaving ? Would it he safe 
 to tell Iiita, and direct her to get them for him I This thought 
 occupied him for some time, and he almost made up his mind to 
 do so. But the risk was too great. After all, Rita might be a 
 spy iu the interests of * his Majesty,' and sent to worm his secret 
 out of him. No, it would not be safe. It would be safer to leave 
 
 i 
 
\\ to licr to be 
 
 st'iior I' 
 elicmliujs' Iki 
 
 Llie astonislu'l 
 
 .11. Wo lly- 
 
 said notliin'4 ; 
 
 lulshij), he tlid 
 
 ov'c'ii felt tlial 
 
 had it. ^Su he 
 
 caving rvUssoU 
 
 (t to "Nviu over 
 success caused 
 ived, liad niis- 
 advauces to a 
 ih hiDguage, it 
 jlelicate shades 
 hole, however, 
 lad all turued 
 
 a very stroiij,' 
 
 all the more 
 
 s and eucrgies 
 
 ve turned out 
 
 io luisuuiler- 
 
 The more sIk^ 
 
 thus Ivussell, 
 
 ed himself to 
 
 oor llita, aud 
 
 ill his way. 
 ? Or, worse, 
 so carefully 
 
 luld it he safe 
 |This thought 
 his mind to 
 |i might be a 
 rm his secret 
 Isafer to leave 
 
 A CAS77J: /.V S/\l/.\'. 
 
 1S5 
 
 tJie houds where they were. If lie esi-aned, he n ii^dit IiDjic to 
 (ilitain assistance from tlu' ( iovernnient, in wliieh ease he luixht 
 bi' able to eoine back with them, ((• show them the way, ;iiid then, 
 when the castle was reeii|itnred, hi' might be abU' to regain his 
 treasure. And so he deeided lin:dly upon this course. 
 
 At midilay Hita returned, bringing Ids iliniu'r, a savoury o/f" 
 jioifiid't. She set it down, and then threw her arms round the 
 eml»arra.ssed Uussell, who was seated (Ui the bench, nmrnuiring 
 words of endearnuMit in unintelligible Spanish, lie liore it well, 
 however, and, reinendjering his necessities," he tried to exhibit 
 those feelings whieh might be expected from him. 
 
 Ji'ita this time had a bundle with her, which she gave to Kus.sell, 
 diri'eting him to hiile it under the bench for the present. 
 
 ' Vou mus' disguisar,' she said ; ' this is a woman dress ' 
 
 ' A woman's dress I' 
 
 'Oh, no dillicolta. You wait till avenin', hen you put him on, 
 oferyour militar coat — just as you stands. ^Mla light ; then you 
 disguisado, and commalong me. 1 be alia ready. S'ou w;iita 
 forra mi. But not you put him ou till aveuin', or mighta be dis- 
 covaire, you know. 11a, seuor ]' 
 
 CIIArTER XXXV. 
 
 I\ M'lIlCII TWO FUOITIVES IIAVH A STAJlTLINt! ADVKXTUUK, NOT 
 
 WITHOUT rKltlL. 
 
 EvKNiXd came, and llussell, with Ivita's assistance, put ou the 
 woman's dress over his generals uniform. The skill of Kita Wiis 
 exerted to give her com|)aniou the appearance of a female some- 
 what stricken in years, aiul her success was marked. Perhaps it 
 was this very success that allecteil the soul of Ilussell ; for no 
 sooner did he look like an ohl woman than he began to feel and 
 act like one. Away went all his courage, and he would have 
 drawn back after all, had not llita urged and almost forced him 
 away. 
 
 ' Allarighta,' she said. 'The men all gone insidar, and so 
 oiigry they think of ony the eaters. So come, my dear. No one 
 shall see. You be trust to myselfa— an' we go like snake in the 
 grasses.' 
 
 Ilussell thus allowed liimself to be hurried away by his bolder 
 companion on the path that led to liberty, llita led the way out 
 into the upper hall, and llus.sell followed, not without great 
 trepidation, and bitter regret at his rashness, exjjecting at every 
 step to see 'his Majesty,' aud of course to be arrested and flung 
 into some deep, dark dungeon. One or two men were there, who, 
 however, took no notice of them. 
 
iS6 
 
 I CIS//./: /x s/'i/.v. 
 
 After tin's (lit'V tli'si'ciitlnl t)it> stairs ami ('iiterctl tlic |n\vt>r li.ill 
 ilt'if, tit tlir imiiu'iisc tJisiM.iy uf Ifiisscjj. ju* Itriu'Itl wliat Hcciiinl 
 (»> lu' till' I'li'iic Cailist liaiiil. It. wan tlicir fn'tliii;,' time. A 
 liiiu'c pot w.'is ill tli(> iiiiildii' )if the hall, ami tlics*' iiirii \vt h 
 tli|i|»iii;^ mil of it tlicir ri'sju'ctixc portions of sonic savoiiiy im , 
 wliosc oijoiir Hll('<l till' air. It'nsst'll sliriitik tlowii almost into liii 
 liootsat the tli'st sii^lit ; luit as Itita \valkt'<| alonL(, lit> liail noaltii 
 iiativi' t>x<'<'pt to follow luT. Little (laiij^'cr was tin-re. liowi'Ver.of lii . 
 iK'iiiij oliservetl. All the men were too intent npcMi tlieii- I'venin ■ 
 meal to iioljce what seeineil like two very I'ommoiiplaee women 
 who piolialily l)eIoii!L;e»l t«» the east U'. And thus K'lissell, to his iiii- 
 Hpeakahle relief, passed thi'on,i;li this ordeal iimpiestioned and 
 oven iinnoticed. 
 
 Ilaviii;^' passed tliroiiLjh the lower hall, they enieri;«'d into tin' 
 outer eoiirlyard. Here, as he p.assed llirouL!,h the door, IJiism II 
 W.'IS just thiiwin*,' a lonj,' hn-atli, ami thinkiiii,' within himself tli it 
 the Worst w.as over, whi'ii suddenly, without any wiirnin'/. tlnir 
 n])pro,'ielied them no less :\ pei;«oii;iL;e tli.iii ' his Nlajesty ' himsill 
 — the very last m.-ui, as it is needless U) say, whom IJussell would 
 liave eliosen to meet. ,\t that si<;lit the houI of K'ussell, wliirh 
 h;»d lieeii slowly sti UL'.^liui^ upwar«l, onee inoi'e sank down iiitn 
 his hoots, e.'irryin.L,' down with it all liopo, and all desiri', and 
 almost all eoiiseiousiioss. 
 
 There was not the sliijliti'st chance of .'ivoidin*,' him. lie w,i-> 
 coiuinif Htiai.u;ht toward them. AVhat was wor.se, liis eyes weiv 
 tixed ujion them. 
 
 * ,\h, K'it.i,' said Miis Majesty ' in Spanish, 'where are ymi 
 ijoiiiijf in the dark /' 
 
 Jkita |)aused ami ni;ide a low obeisaiiee. I^u.s.sell did the saUK-. 
 ' I'm ^oiiii,' over there to see jibout some wa.shing,' said l«'ita. 
 
 * Ah ha I' said * his Majesty,' ' if you only were Roiui,' alone I 
 shoulil say that some brave hoy was intending to helj) you at yoiu- 
 Wiiahinjj. IJut yon have a friend with you.' 
 
 .Saying those words, Miis Majo.sty' looked haul at the shrink- 
 ing liussell, who now felt his soul all oozing out at the seams uf 
 his boots. He stood trembling, shrinking, expecting the worst. 
 
 But Kita w;us o([ual to the oeca.sion. 
 
 ' Oh, this is my aunt,' s;iid she. ' that T told you about. I aslu 1 
 her to come here and helj) mo. She's a little rheumatic, being oM. 
 but she can do a good turn at hard work yet ; and she's a gninl 
 cook, too, and she can spin well — oh, beautifully ; and she is a 
 wonder in lier way. Oh, we shall have a better o/ld umlr'nln 
 than you ever tasted when the good old aunt goes to work".' 
 
 ' Your aunt — ah !' .said ' his Majesty,' in a tone that savonidl 
 of disajijiointment. ' Il'm — well, IJita, the next time you want 
 lielp, don't send for any of your aunts, but send for some one of 
 your uieces. They will be far more welcome in a lonely place like 
 
n> 1mW«'V Inll. 
 
 kvliat Mi'fllinl 
 
 W'^ liinr. A 
 m nu'ii w« If 
 »av«»ujy ">'' ' 
 niti^^t into 111 ; 
 \\:u\ iit» alti I 
 nWi'Vrr.ollii • 
 llit'irt'vniiii 
 |)l;ic»' woiMtii 
 ivW, Inhirt nil- 
 
 U'SliolU'd !lll'l 
 
 ■rm'tl into till' 
 tidur, |{ns^<ll 
 n liiinsolf lint 
 varnini,'. ll»« k; 
 jcsty' liinisilt' 
 Wnssfll woiiM 
 K'nssfll, wlii'li 
 ink <lown iiit" 
 \ll ilcsiro, :iii'l 
 
 him. lI»^^v.|-' 
 
 1 hia e) t's unc 
 
 icro are }"U 
 
 nl tlio paiiR'. 
 ' Haiti iHta. 
 }t()inif aloiit' I 
 1» you at your 
 
 at the Bhriiik- 
 the seams vl 
 iug the worst. 
 
 bout. 1 askf'l 
 atic, Itein-^- "M. 
 1(1 slie'rt a .U<'"-1 
 , and sht' is a 
 I' <>ll<t txiilri'!"- 
 
 to W'Ollv.' 
 
 that savoiin"! 
 time you vaiit 
 or some one ol 
 oiiely place liko 
 
 ,1 cAsrrr: ix siwix 
 
 i.S; 
 
 tills. Ollii j)iutrlJiiA',\Yv all vj'ry wrll, n<> <lniili|, ImiI what I sliitnM 
 iiLfi'i- Mould 1)0 Hoiiiu one who i-ould tomli the guitar, and nin;^' a 
 lively Hon;,'.' 
 
 And with lln'Ht' woidn ' jiin Majesty' retired. * 
 
 M'nme/Haid Itita to the almost senst le.ss Ifiissell. M'»ime.' 
 
 ;\<,'aiii IkUSHell rolloweti her. She led the way toward an ari h- 
 way in the wall on one side of the eonrtyard. I'lnterin,,' this, 
 they found theniselven in an arched imim, in whieh it was diHieult 
 ti see throiiL,di the dim twiliLjht. I'liit to 1,'ita the way seemed 
 (jiiile famili.'ii', foi- she walked on and told liiissell to fullow with- 
 out fear. At len;,'th hIic Hlopped, jiiid as Kus.seil rami; U|> to her, 
 she said : 
 
 'We «K'.setMulH— HtopM dues be- here I lakeH your hand anil 
 helps.' 
 
 She took his hand, and be^'.an to ileseend. With tliisiissistaneo 
 Kiissell wan able to follow without niiirh dillii iilty, Snnn it, be- 
 came <|uite dark, and continued so fix' some time, <liirinL; whiili 
 J{ita led him onward an t|uickly as pos.'-ible, ,\t len;^tli shfj 
 paused. 
 
 ' \'ou mun' be careful,' nhe said ; * here in the Hteps broken, an' 
 you shall go slow— and not slips.' 
 
 It wa.s HO dark here that b'lissell could hcc nothing ; but he fi-ll 
 thai Kita was descending, HO In; piepaii'd to follow. The st p.s 
 lieie had heen broken in places, leaving u rough, inclined plane, 
 with lo(»Ho stones and mortal-. There was no gn at diMiciilty in 
 descending, but it was dark, and INiHHell's h.ng skiits weic very 
 iniu'h in the way. Jlowever, by moving slow !y, and by exercising 
 great caution, he was able to reach the 1 )tt(uu witluuit any 
 accident. 
 
 Here llita took his hami and iigaiu led him on. It now began 
 to grow lighter, until at last olijectK, were plaiidy discernible. 
 The light was caused ])y the moonbe.'ims, which shone in through 
 a place where the outside w;ill was broken away, hoctking 
 through the opening, Jlussell saw, not far dintant, a pruipice, 
 with l)its of shrubbery here and there. Soon they came to the 
 opening itself. 
 
 lie found himself on the verge of n deep chasm, the very ono 
 already mentioned. Above the opcuiing •]irnjecied pait (»f what 
 had once been a bridge, but which had long siiKM! fallen. On 
 the opposite side was the tower where ilrooke and Talbot had 
 founil refuge. The bridge; had once crossed to the lower, and, 
 since it had fallen, this opening ha<[ been made, from which the 
 chasm could be crossetl by descending on (uuj side and ascending 
 the other. The slope was steep and rough. I{us.sell, as he lof)ked 
 down, could uot see any chance of farther ))i()gre.s.s in this direc- 
 tion. 
 
 ' We mus'go down here,' said J vita. 
 
I 
 
 i8S 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 ' Here I' saiil rJiissell. ' J Cow ? I c.in't go down !' 
 
 * Oil, it is easy ; you mua' follow. I show the way?,' said ]\ita ; 
 and saying this, she stepped down fioiii the opening ui)ona leiigu 
 of rock. Then, turning to the right, she went on for a pace or 
 two and turned for Russell. Seeing lier walk thus far with ease 
 and in safety, ho ventured after her. The ledge was wide enough 
 to walk on without dilliculty ; and, although the chasm was deep, 
 yet the side did not run down steeply enough to make him feel 
 anything like giddiness. The pathway was easy enough wlieii 
 one had a guide to shov the way ; and thus llussell, following 
 closely behind llita, reached the bottom. Then, crossing the brook, 
 she led the way up on the opjiosite side by the path already men- 
 tioned, and at length both reached the tower, and paused to take 
 breath. 
 
 Thus far no alarm had been given in the castle. Every step 
 increased llussell's conlidencc, and when he gained the tower lie 
 felt cure of escape. But to wait here long was not to be thought 
 of ; so, after a few moments spent in regaining breath, the two 
 set forth to continue their flight. 
 
 At length, after a fatiguing journey, they reached the main 
 road, and here they turned toward the south, in which directiou 
 they went for some miles. 
 
 They had now been walking for many hours, and Eussell, who 
 was quite unused to any exercise of this sort^ was greatly fatigued. 
 Nothing, indeed, but the dread of capture and the thought of a 
 merciless pursuer on his track had ke})t him up so long. He felt 
 that he had reached the utmost limit of his strength. 
 
 At last thev caught sight of a windmill in a field on the right. 
 Th'i sight enlivened him. Here, he thought, they might hide 
 and obtain rest. He said this to Rita. She acquiesced. To gaiu 
 the windmill was now their chief desire. 
 
 Nearer they came, and nearer. 
 
 But now, just when all seemed gained, they saw a number of 
 armed men coming toward them, and in a few minutes they were 
 arrested by the followers of Lopez. 
 
 II: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 HOW DANGERS THICKEN AKOUNl) THE BESPAIEINO RUSSELL. 
 
 The moon was still shining very brightly, and they could sec 
 very well the faces and the uniforms of their captois. The sight 
 of the government uniforms was very reassuring to Rita, v/ho 
 was only anxious to escape from the Carlists ; but the first glauce 
 which Russell gave at the captain of the band overwhelmed him 
 with terror. He recognised Lopez, and saw that he had fallen 
 into the hands of one who had no reason, and perhaps no incliua- 
 
 » ■ i 
 
,1 CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 1S9 
 
 ETNG RUSSELL. 
 
 tiou, to show him the sh'ghtcst mercy. At that siijht all JiusacU's 
 cour.'if^e subsided, and lie fell into a state of iiiental prosti-atioii as 
 extreme as that whieh he liad eyperienced when 'his M.ijcsty' 
 had confronted liim in his fliijht. 
 
 ['or, unfortunately for him, Lopez had I'cceivt'd at his hands 
 treatnieni which was sullicient to inspire a deep resentr.icnt even 
 in a man less impetuous than this hot-blooded Spaniard. First, 
 he had not only discouiaged his attentions to Katie, but had 
 jtrohibited them in every jjossible way, and in the most positive 
 and insultinfj maimer. Again, but a short time before this, at 
 the railway station at Madrid, he had caused liitn to bo ejected 
 from the railway-carriage. For all this he felt that Lope/- must 
 cheriah a deep desire for vengeance, and would rejoice now if he 
 were to discover tliut liis enemy had become his prisoner. Fii 
 such au emergency as this, llussell was utterly helpless, and could 
 only liope that his disguise mig^ t bailie Lopez, or that the quick 
 wit of Ivita might be able to save him from discovery. 
 
 After regarding them for a sullicient time, Lopez began an 
 examination of the prisoners. 
 
 ' Who are you V he asked. 
 
 Eita answered. 
 
 'lam a poor woman,' said she, 'and this lady is a foreigner 
 who does not understand Spanish.' 
 
 ' What are yon doing here alone on this road ]' 
 
 ' We are fugitives.' 
 
 ' Fugitives from whom V 
 
 * From the Carlists.' 
 
 At this Lopez was visibly excited. 
 
 ' The Carlists V he asked. ' Where are they ? Where did yon 
 leave them ? Tell the truth, woman, and you shall be rewanled. 
 But if you are false, I shall regard you both as s))ies.' 
 
 * Noble captain, I am anxious to tell the truth, and glad tliat 
 we have fallen among friends. We have escaped from an old 
 castle some distance away, and have been flying for hours ' 
 
 'A castle !' said Lopez, interrupting her ; ' where is it V 
 
 ' There, to the north,' said Ilita. 
 
 ' Oh, very well. I shall be able < find out from you again 
 where it may be situated ; but now tell me more about your- 
 selves. What were you doing at the castle ?' 
 
 ' Noble sefior, about three weeks ago I was taken prisoner by 
 the Carlists, and they took me to this castle, v/here they made 
 me serve as an attendant on the prisoners. Among them wai3 
 this lady.' 
 
 ' Prisoners V cried Lopez ; ' have they any others ]' 
 
 'Two days ago,' said Eita, 'they brought several new prisoners.* 
 
 ' How many I' 
 
 'Six.' 
 
IQO 
 
 A CASTLE /X SPA/X. 
 
 ' Who were tliey ]' 
 
 ' 1 tlon't know— forei^ne's.' 
 
 'Men or women /' 
 
 ' Three of tlieni were men nn«l three were women. I^'umo ono 
 said they were I'lnglish.' 
 
 ' I'ln^iish I' sniil Ji0|)e/,, jfrowinc; more excited still .'it tliis news, 
 whieli w.-is so nuich in aoeonhineo with his wishes — ' Kn«j;li.sh ! 
 Tell me more about tliein.' 
 
 ' Well, sefior, of the men one was elderly ; the other two wero 
 youn.i;, (]uite handsome ; they looked rich, noble, i)roud.' 
 
 'Never mind. Now tell me about the women. Were tluy 
 ladies]' 
 
 ' V'es, sefior, they were noble ladies, wealthy, high-born, proud. 
 Ami one waa elderly, and they said she w.'is a great lady. And 
 some saitl she was the mother of the young ladies, thougli 
 they did not look like her daughters, nor did they look lil<e 
 slaters.' 
 
 'Tell me about them ; what did they look like ?' 
 
 'One, senor, looked like a Spanish lady. And she was dark 
 and beautifid and sad, with melancholy eyes. Never did the siui 
 shine on a more lovely laily ; but her sadness always made nio 
 feel sad.' 
 
 liopez interrupted her with an impatient gesture. 
 
 ' Never mind her. Now describe the other one,' said lie. 
 
 'The other r said Ivita ; 'she looked like an English duchesn. 
 She was light — oh, a wonderful light blonde, with golden hair, 
 and eyes as blue as heaven, with cheeks pink-and-white, and 
 with dimples dancing on them, and with the smile of an angel 
 that always lurked in her lips and laughed out of her eyes. A nd 
 she was as beautiful as a dream, and uo one ever saw her sad. 
 Heaven does not hold in all its mansions a more beautiful, beauti- 
 fnl angel than this English duchess,' 
 
 liita spoke enthusiastically ; the more so as she saw Lopez 
 look at her with a deep attention, and a gaze that devoured all 
 lier wonls. 
 
 'That is she!' cried Lopez, in intense excitement. 'That is 
 the one of whom I wished to hear. So you have seen her ? All, 
 w'ell, good woman, this information is your best passport — more, 
 it is worth much to me. I'll reward you.' 
 
 ' Oh, senor,' said Eita, anxious to strike while the iron was hot, 
 and secure lier freedom at once, ' if this information is welcome 
 and valuable, the only reward I want is to let ns go. Let us go, 
 noble sefior, for we have nrgent business, and our detention here 
 may be our ruin.' 
 
 ' Euiu V cried Lopez ; ' what nonsense ! You are free now, 
 and safe from the Carlists. As to letting you go, that is out of 
 the question. You are the very womau I want to see. You 
 
A CASTLE /.V SPAIN. 
 
 IQI 
 
 on. Foiuo otio 
 
 know all about this castle. \o\\ must bo iuy<,niiiK> brnk to it. V 
 liMve boon scut to looapturo thoso unfortunato iniHoiuTs. I luivo 
 boon unablo tluis far to <(ot on tb \v track. As to that cistio, 
 tlioro is a o(>itaiu one up yonder which 1 bad an idci of iccon- 
 noilrinj^' ; but if all I heir i.'j tiuo, I sh;dl have lo i,'ct iiitillciy. 
 Now you bavo escaped, and you may be able to \(\\v ine infoinia- 
 tion of a very valuable kind. 1 should like to know how you 
 contiivod to escape from a ])laco like that, and i ur<,'e you to b(» 
 fraidv witb me. Kemoml)er this, that the (piickost way to lii)orty 
 will bo to bolp nui to ^vt those jtrisomns. S'ou nmst icinain wilh 
 me until then. The sooner I capture them, the .sooner you shall 
 bo allowed to depart.' 
 
 All this was a sore blow to llita's hopes ; but her (piick mind 
 soon took in all the facts of her i)osition, and she concluih^d that 
 it W(Uild be best to be frank, as the captain bad ur,L(c(i. She also 
 saw that it wouhl be for her interest that the castle kIiouM bo 
 capttnod as soon as possible. And .she know, too, that a band of 
 brave men, headed by a determined loader, could have nodilliculty 
 in cajjturiiif^ the castle by a surprise, if she should only make 
 known to them tin; passaj^o-way by which sho had latc'Iy e.scapiul. 
 
 Accordin<j;ly IJita proceeded to fjfive to Lopez a full account of 
 the way in which she had manaj^od to ellect the escape of herself 
 and her companion from the castle. Lopez listened witb tho 
 deepest attention, making lior explain witb the utmost minute- 
 ness tho nature of tho chambers and )>assa<;os which she had 
 traversed, and their position witb refoienco to the rest of the 
 castie ; also tho track down the sides of tho chasm ; its heiL,dit, 
 lon,i,'th, and width, and how far it ollered concealment to those 
 passing over it. 
 
 ']\ly good woman,' said ho, 'do not object to a little further 
 detention. I assure you it need not bo for more than twenty- 
 four hours. After all, what is that I IJy this time to-moirow I 
 shall have tliat castle in my own hands. It is of such infinite 
 importance to me to capture thoso prisoners, that \ assure you 
 there is nothing I will not do for you, if you are faithful to me till 
 I conclude this business of mine. So make uj) your mind to woik 
 for me in a cheerful, loyal, active way ; and you will rejoice to 
 your dying day that you ever met with Jfernando Lopez.' 
 
 During this conversation, llussell, standing apart, had watched 
 them attentively. Although unable to understand the words, ho 
 was able to gather from tho faces, gestures, and tones of the two 
 a very fair idea of their meaning, ila could see tha*- Lopez grew 
 more and more excited ; that the excitement w;.s most intense, 
 yet altogether agreeable ; and that he himself w.^'i far, very far, 
 from being the subject of that conversation. He couM see that 
 the etfect produced upon Loj)ez was of the most desirable kind, 
 and that the dreaded captain was now in a mood from which no 
 
192 
 
 ,1 CASTLE l.y SPAJX. 
 
 tlaiijTcr was to ho npprohoiuled. And tliorcforo it was tliat tlio 
 virtuous, yet undeniably timid Russoll, lH><,'an to pluck up licavl. 
 To' su I'll a dt\<iroo was his late terror Hurniountod, tliat lio now 
 became conscious of a fact wliicli had l)itlierto been suppressed 
 umler tlie loni;' excitement of hurried 11i<;ht and sudden capture* ; 
 and this fact was that he had been fasting for a long time, and 
 was now ravenously hungry. 
 
 At length the conversation ended, and Lopez was about to turn 
 away, when, suddenly, he notioeil Hussell. ITe raised his hat 
 courteously as if to a lady, and IJussell returned this civility with 
 a most awkward bow. jlut Lo|)e/ did not notice this. Jle was 
 in a i)Ieasant frame of mind, and full of excited Ijopes. 
 
 * 1 hoj)e,' said he with a polite smile, ' your ladyshij) will not be 
 put out by this slight delay. Otherwise I am at your service.' 
 
 Eussell understood this to be an ofler of assistance, and, feelini,' 
 secure in his disguise, he made a bold elfort to communicate witli 
 the enemy. And this is the way he did it : 
 
 * !Me Iningry,' he said ; * d — n hungry !' 
 
 ' Ilungria V said Lopez. * Ah, a Hungarian la<ly ! Ah, true— 
 I had forgotten. And so, Eita, your friend is a Hungarian lady (' 
 
 * Yes,' said Itita, delighted at liaving her companion's nationality 
 so conveniently disposed of. * Yes ; slie's a foreigner — a Hun- 
 garian laily, and no one can understand her language.' 
 
 'Very good,' said Lo])ez. 'It is all the same whether Hun- 
 garian or Spanish. She is a lady, and shall be treated as well as 
 j)ossible. And now, llita, you must rest, for you must be strong 
 and active for to-morrow's work.' 
 
 With these words Lopez sliowed tlieni to their resting-] )lacc. 
 It was in the loft, where Brooke and Talbot were confined. Hero 
 Rita ascended nimbly, and IJussell followed, not without difhcully ; 
 and soon Ilita forgot her fatigue, and Ilussell liis hunger, in a 
 sound sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIL 
 
 IN WIITCn RUSSELL MAKES NEW FEIENDS, AND TALBOT SKES 
 
 NEW TEKILS. 
 
 Russell and Rita had thus been brought to the loft of the old 
 mill, iu which Brooke aud Talbot were ])risoners. It was fortu- 
 nate for these latter that there had occurred this little episode ot 
 the an-ival of new prisoners, for it served to give a diversion to 
 their thoughts, turning them into a new channel, and relieviiii,' 
 them from that intense excitement of feeling by which they had 
 been overcome. It also gave them a subject of common interest 
 apart from themselves ; aud thus they were once more able to 
 
 I ' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 var, til at tlio 
 that \\v in>w 
 
 I) HUpplOSSt'd 
 
 (leu capture ; 
 iig time, and 
 
 about to turn 
 aised his* liat 
 r^ civility with 
 liiii. ]Io was 
 
 OS. 
 
 lip will not 1)0 
 •ur service' 
 :e, ami, foelini,' 
 uuuicate with 
 
 ' ! All, truo- 
 uigariau lady 
 )n's nationality 
 
 gner- 
 
 -a 1 III 11- 
 
 whethcr Ilun- 
 vted as well as 
 uust be strong 
 
 resting-place, 
 on fined. ]lore 
 lontdifliculty; 
 
 hunger, in a 
 
 TALBOT Sr.ES 
 
 oft of the oltl 
 It was fortu- 
 ittle episode ot 
 a diversion to 
 and relicvhig 
 hich tlioy had 
 anmou interest 
 ) more able to 
 
 •9;) 
 
 converse with one another, without having that sriisc of vioh'iit 
 self- restraint which had tlms far atllicted tlioni. iJrooko was able 
 to bo lively, without any alVectation of too extravagant gaiety, 
 and Talbot was no lunger crushed into dumbness. 
 
 They had seen the arrival of the prisoners from the window, 
 and had watched thorn closely. The two fugitives had boon 
 ciptured close by the mill by the band of Lopez, just as that 
 l);md was approaching the spot after a weary and useless day. 
 The examination had been overheard by the two listonors in th(! 
 loft, who were thus able to un<lerstaiid the meaning of thi^ new 
 turn wdiich allairs had taken. After the prisoners had been 
 brought up to the loft, their character andai)pearance still i'onned 
 a lioid for ingenious speculation ; an<l many were the theories 
 lia/arded by each, in turn, toward the solution of those jioints. 
 
 Morning at length came, ami the prisoners awaked. Hita was 
 lirst on her feet, and ]>rooke w;is able to read her whole character 
 at a ghuice. lie saw^ her to be a common sort of woman, with a 
 bold face, piercing eyes, and ready tongue, ilesoon entered into 
 a conversation v/ith her, and learned from lur exactly what she 
 had already told Lopez. She also informed him that fjopoz had 
 (lotained her, in order that she might guide him bai;k to tin; castle. 
 Tliis nnich I'rooke had already gathered from what little he had 
 ovorheard of the examination of the previous evening, and it gave 
 him unmixed pleasure. For, although he had refused to violate 
 his honour by acting as guide to betray the castle, he had no 
 objection that others should do so. The fate of the castle and its 
 Carlist occupants was in itself a matter of indiUbrence to him. 
 To be taken there would make an agreeable change for himself 
 and Talbot. If Lopez shouUl take them with him, it would be 
 pleasant to go back with Talbot to that tower and renew the past ; 
 and although, for reasons already given, he did not feel like flying 
 with her, still he felt that liberty would bo better for both, and 
 was ready to avail himself of any chance that might oiler. 
 
 Brooke reported to Talbot what J'ita had said, and while they 
 wore conversing, Ilussell awoke. .Suddenly he detected, to his 
 aiuazcnient, the sound of I'higlish words. The shock was so great 
 that he was on the very point of betraying himself, and it was 
 only by a strong elfort that he maintained his self-control . Then, 
 lisljiiing quietly, he understood the whole state of the case, as it 
 had resulted from Rita's examination by TiOpez. 
 
 Unable to sleep any longer, Ilussell roused himself, and slowly 
 putting himself on his feet, walked to the win<low. Ills figure 
 and movements at once struck the notice of Talbot, who drew the 
 attention of Brooke to the strange and eccentric attitu<les of the 
 'Hungarian countess.' Brooke scrutinized the good Kussell 
 closely, and expressed his o[)inions with great freedom, and a 
 severe criticism followed, iu which these two, safe, as thoy 
 
 13 
 
1 94 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 supposed, in the i^uoninco of the foreigner, mailo very sevoK 
 strictures upon Eussell'.s whole ji''r.'(oii)iel. 
 
 Kussell, for his ])ivrt, watched them as well as lie could, ami 
 listened attentively, without being in the least oflended. lie 
 could perceive easily enough that the jjriest was English and the 
 other was American. He longed, in his helplessness, to take tlaui 
 into his confidence. He was not at all satisfied with his own 
 relations toward llita, and thought that if he could only tni>t 
 these two, who were of his owu blood, he might bo safe. .And 
 yet he felt the need of caution. They might betray him. Like 
 himself, they were prisoners, perhaps in a more perilous situatinn, 
 and would not hesitate to sacrifice him if they could gain any- 
 thing by it. 
 
 When he heard of the proposed return to the castle, he felt at 
 first thoroughly dismayed. Farther thought, however, made it 
 seem less dreadful, for he hoped that if Lopez were to capture the 
 place and deliver Katie, his wrath might be appeased, and he 
 might recover his hidden money ; wliile, on the other hand, hi' 
 perceived that if the worst came to the W(jrst and his ilisguise was 
 discovered, Lopez even then could not be more dangerous thaii 
 * his Majesty ' had been. 
 
 There was something, however, in the tone and manner of lliea' 
 two, as well as in their general asi)ect, which gradually broke 
 down the mistrust and reserve of I'ussell. lie began to feel eon- 
 vinced that he might trust them, that his secret would be safe in 
 their hands, and that they might give him valuable iuformatiuu 
 and atlvice, if not assistance. Besides, he reflected that chaiiee- 
 of escape might arise, and he thought that he would be safer in 
 their company than in that of Eita. Finally, he came to the con- 
 clusion to trust them. But here he determined to go only half- 
 way. He would tell them <hat he was English, but not an 
 Englishman, and would leave farther disclosures to the chapter 
 of accidents. If Lopez should discover this much and no ninie. 
 there would be no danger, and he might conclude that he liiiu- 
 self had made the mistake, since Hungarian and English were 
 both alike unknown to him. 
 
 After careful observation, Itussoll also concluded that he wuukl 
 be safer if he addressed his confidences to the young priest with 
 the sweet and gentle face. The other one looked less trustwortliy, 
 or at least less inclined to pity. Under these circumstauee:?, 
 therefore, and with this design, the good man began his advauce», 
 moving in a hesitating way toward them, with furtive glauce^, 
 and with such very extraordinary gestures that Brooke and 
 Talbot regarded him in great surprise. 
 
 'The Hungarian countess,' said Talbot, 'seems more eccentric 
 than ever.' 
 
 Ilussell looketl all around iu a stealthy way. Rita's eyes Avere 
 
A CASTLE IX SPAIX. 
 
 10 
 
 i VCl'}' «CVOK 
 
 le could, mill 
 itremled. Ho 
 •flirtli iiml the 
 °totakullK'Ki 
 wiili Ilia <J''^ii 
 ikl only tiu>t 
 JO safe. And 
 ay liiui. Li 1^0 
 ilous sitnaiiou, 
 )ald gaiu aiiy- 
 
 istle, lie fi'lt -at 
 /ever, made it 
 ! to capture the 
 ipcascd, aud lie 
 other hand, lu' 
 his disguise was 
 dangerous Ihaii 
 
 niaunev of tln'se 
 
 gradually broke 
 
 "gau to feel cou- 
 
 ^N^ould he safe in 
 
 ;ole iuforniatiuu 
 
 ed that chaiico 
 
 ould he safer lu 
 
 cauie to the con- 
 
 to go ouly ludt- 
 
 sh, bvit not lui 
 
 fi to the chaptei' 
 
 |ch aud no uiovo, 
 
 le that he hiiu- 
 
 ,d English were 
 
 kI that he would 
 ^..n*"" priest with 
 iesstrustwortliy, 
 e circuuistauces, 
 an his advauces, 
 furtive glauccj, 
 Ihat Brooke ami 
 
 more eccoutrio 
 Eita's eyes were 
 
 lixoil on him, hut he did not care for that. lie f^milcd at her, 
 however, and nodded blithely, so as to disarm o,ny possible sus- 
 picions, and then addressed himself to Talbot. 
 
 *0h, sir !' said he, ' I'm not a Hungarian countess at all. I'm 
 a poor unfortunate Englishwoman, that's esca|)ing from the 
 banditti, with the help of this good creature. And I know I can 
 trust you.' 
 
 At this the amazement of Brooke and Talbot was inexpressible. 
 Brooke, however, lield his tongue, seeing that as Talbot had been 
 addressed, it would be better for her to answer. So Talbot, 
 after a few expressions of sympathy, asked Ivussell to exi)hiin 
 fartliei'. 
 
 Bussell then informed them that her name was J/;'.s-. llussell ; 
 that she had been captured, along with her daughter, by tlie 
 Carlists ; that she had escaped, lioping to get help to rescue her 
 daughter. All this llussell stated, not without much circum- 
 locution and contradiction. 
 
 Brooke now iuterposetl. 
 
 'But don't you know,' said he, 'that these people are Be- 
 publicans— that they're going to capture the castle, or try to? 
 If they succeed, they will free your tlaughter. So 30U see }ou 
 have fallen among the right sort of people, and you may be (piite 
 at your ease. It's all the best for you. It I were you, 1 woukl 
 toll the ca[)tain all about it. Get yonder good woman, your com- 
 ])auion, to explain.' 
 
 At tliis Bussell gave a look of despair. 
 
 ' The very thing,' said he, ' that I dare not do.' 
 
 * Why not ?' 
 
 Bussell then, still keeping up the part of ^Mrs. Bussell, and 
 mentioning Katie as her daughter, exphiined that Lopez was his 
 hitter enemy, and trdd them about his love for Katie and his 
 ejection from the railway-carriage. 
 
 'Well,' said Brooke, 'you needn't be afraid of him. This 
 matter will settle itself. Ile'll free your daughter from oajitivity, 
 aud she'll marry him, of course. After that you can take the 
 sweetest revenge on him by tormenting him for the rest of his 
 days as his mother-in-law.' 
 
 Bussell sighed a heavy sigh and turned away. As ho did so, 
 he caught the eyes of Bita, which were fastened upon him with 
 a fixed, earnest, eager stare, and there was that in her look which 
 served to drive away every other thought except the one that in 
 this woman there was a new danger, more formitlable than any 
 which had yet menaced him. This look made him xeel like au 
 arrested debtor in the grasp of the bailitr, or like au insane man 
 under the watchful eye of his keeper. In Bita he now recognised 
 his bailiff and his keeper. She was worse. She had designs on 
 him ! Aud for what \ For marrying him. Marriage was, of 
 
 13—2 
 
iqG 
 
 A CASTLE LY SPA IX, 
 
 course, I'mpossiLlo, for lie luul ;i wife already ; but did Ttita know 
 this \ To tell the truth, he had hecn fooliii<; her ; and he iiow 
 saw for the iiist time tliat he would have to answer f(»r this. 
 ^Vhen she should discover it, \\hat would she do \ lie had heard 
 the words of the poet : 
 
 ' IFi'll lintU no fury like n wnninn scorned,' 
 
 aud he recalled these words oidy to shudder, lie shuddered still 
 more as he thought that llita bcloiiijed to the Spanish raee— a 
 race that never forgives — a rac^ implacable, swift to avenj^fo ;i, 
 race that recognises oidy one atonement for wrongs, aud that is 
 to wipe them out in blood. 
 
 Such were the thoughts of our honest friend, aud they weio 
 
 f)ainful in the extreme. They awakened new fears. That one 
 ook of llita's made liim dread her more than Loj)e/, moru tli.iii 
 'his ^Majesty.' He began to think now, Avith something like 
 pleasure, of going back to the castle. \jo\)Q7. would protect liiiii ; 
 and if Lopez should fail, he would steal back by the secret path 
 and surrender himself to ' his Majesty.' lie would lind his bonds, 
 and purchase his freedom with these. In addition to this, he 
 determined to wait for a favourable ojiportunity, when iJit.i 
 might be away, to con tide to these new aud sympathising friends 
 the whole story of his woes. 
 
 Further conversation between Ivussell and these new frieutis 
 was now prevented by the entrance of Lopez himself. Jle ad- 
 vauced to Brooke, and addressed him with much civility, nut 
 without friendliness. 
 
 ' Senor,' said he, ' I have bei>u thinking over your case, and I 
 have concluded to hand you over to my military superiors. They 
 may take the responsibility of deciding about your guilt or 
 innocence. But for the })resent, as I am res[)onsible for you, I 
 must detain you as my prisoner. If you were only connected 
 with some recognised profession, I should be happy to accept 
 your parole, and let you follow at your leisure ; but as you are 
 considered here a possible spy, 1 cannot think of that. Vou 
 must, therefore, come with us under guard. I\Ioreover, as to 
 your friend, this young priest, he must consider himself as bound, 
 for a short time, witli us. I exj)ect to have need of liim for ;i 
 few days. I have nothing against him ; he is not a prisoner, but 
 is detained merely for a purpose in connection with his sacred 
 olfice. When that purpose is accomplished, he will be at liboity 
 to go or stay.' 
 
 With these words Lopez retired. He had taken no notice of 
 Eussell, at which the latter felt a deep sense of relief. 
 
 Far dilFerent, however, were the feelings of Brooke, and of 
 Talbot also, when he had translated to her the captain's words. 
 
 * He has need of me,' repeated Talbot, ' for a purpose in con- 
 nectiou with my sacred oflict. Is that what he said, Brooke 1' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 197 
 
 ' Yes,' said nrouko, in a low vuico. 
 
 * I'.ut wliiit am 1 to do T 
 
 JJrooko K'd her awuy, out of I'lusaell's heariu*;, and couvorsed 
 with lier in h)W whispers. 
 
 ' Don't anticipate tionble, Talhot,' lie wliis|)ered. 
 
 ' iJut I must prepare myself f^r a p(»sHii)h,' . nier,i,'ene\ / was the 
 roi)ly. ' Now what emer^eney can ])(>ssil)Iy ai i a- /' 
 
 'The burial of the dead, |)eihaps/ said Untuke. 'They aro 
 tjoin^' to attack the castle. Some; will he killed. That's natc.ral 
 euoiiifh. Have you nerve enou^tjK to perform the burialsfrvict! j' 
 
 *1 ilon't know,' saiil Talbot. ' i nu^i,dit as well try to connnand 
 a rei,'inient.' 
 
 ' (Hi, I'll show you the w. ole thin;.^ All you'veigot to do is to 
 read tlie burial-service out of the breviary. We'll practise it 
 to<,'ether. You need only pronounce the Latin like Italian. Do 
 you know Italian I' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 •French?' * No.' 
 
 *0h, well, you're an English priest, you know, and so you liad 
 better lu-onounco it like Eniflish. These d(!vils will bo none the 
 wiser.' 
 
 Talbot was silent and thout^htful for a few moments. 
 
 ' IJrooke,' said she, at leiiirth, ' what were they saying about 
 Lopez going to rescue an J'^nglish girl, this — this person'.'* 
 (laughter/ This person, a — Mrs. Jiussell, said that FiOpez was 
 in love with the girl. You spoke about his rescuing her and 
 marrying her.' 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 ' Well i' said Brooke. 
 
 ' Well,' said Talbot mournfully, ' dou't you see what T mean ? 
 and the use lie wishes to make of me in my false character as 
 ]<riest r 
 
 'Dy Jove!' exclaimed Brooke, as Talbot's meaning dawned 
 upon him. 
 
 ' You. see, Brooke, I'm afraid that in my disguise as priest I 
 may be reipiired to marry this English giil to JiOpcz ; and that 
 is sacrilege — it is infamy — it is too horrible. 1 cannot — I will 
 not. Never !' 
 
 At this Brooke was fdled with consternation. lie could only 
 say something about the necessity of not anticipating evil, and 
 express the hope that it might only be a burial. But Talbot felt 
 that her fear was just, and that a new and unavoidable danger 
 now arose before her. 
 
 In a short time after this tlie band set ofF, guided by Rita. 
 Toward evening they reached a spot about a mile from the castle, 
 where they secreted themselves in a grove and rested. 
 
■Mlpii 
 
 198 
 
 A CATTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 Evening came, and the moon rose. Then, as silently as jios- 
 aible, they wont to the tower. Here arranf,'oments were niade for 
 the security of the pri.soncrs, and llita prepared to lead the bund 
 tlirough the secret way into the castle. 
 
 Hi 
 
 C'lTArTEH XXXVTTT. 
 
 IN ■NVIIICII, AFTER A SERIES OF SURPRISES, ' IIIS MAJESTY' 
 GETS THE GREATEST .SURI'KISE OF ALL. 
 
 Heturx must now be made to the castle and the two young men 
 whose duel had been interrupted. Captured thus, they stood fur 
 a time quite overwhelmed, their intense excitement now foUowml 
 by a violent reaction, in the midst of which there was the 
 api)alliug thou;^ht of the consequences which might flow from 
 this. For Ashby to be found in Harry's room would surely le.id 
 to the <liscov<ji'y of everything — the secret passage-way, the 
 sliding-door, and, perhaps, their visits to the ladies. Each one 
 thought of this for himself. Each one had believed that the 
 Carlists did not know about the secret passages. But now all 
 was over. 
 
 'Well,' continued 'his Majesty,' speaking in Spanish, 'busi- 
 ness before pleasure. We will examine you both about this to- 
 morrow. For the present we will leave a guard in this room. 
 IMeanwliile, Senor Rivers, you may hand over that pistol ; or stay 
 — no — you have put it to such a noble use that you may keei) it ; 
 OT',e pistol against six men need not be feared. And now, gentle- 
 men, adieu till to-morrow.' 
 
 With these words 'his Majesty' retired, securing the door be- 
 hind him, and Harry and Ashby were left with the guarda. 
 They stood apart from one another, pale, anxious, and each 
 wrapped up in his ow u thoughts. For all that had happened 
 each blamed the other, and thus their mutual hate was only 
 intensified. 
 
 The cause of • his Majesty's' appearance upon the scene can be 
 easily explained. He had been greatly troubled in his mind by 
 the ' ghost ' in Mrs, Russell's room, and could not account for it. 
 He had not thought of any secret communication, for, being a 
 comparative stranger here, he had not known of any. Thinking, 
 however, that he might get some light on the subject, he h;ul 
 wandered to the door of Harry's room, and there the sound of 
 voices had arrested his attention. Knowing that Harry w;is 
 placed there in solitaiy confinement, he felt that the clue to the 
 mystery might now be here ; and so, gathering half a dozen men, 
 he had come in upon them as above described. 
 
 Leaving this room, * his Majesty ' now went once more to the 
 
 11 
 
A r.is/7./: /x srm. 
 
 199 
 
 ently as pos- 
 ,'i're nuule for 
 Lead the band 
 
 [IS majesty' 
 -L. 
 
 wo young men 
 they stood for 
 , now followed 
 there was the 
 ght flow from 
 \\d snr?ly le.id 
 3aage-W!iy, the 
 ies. Each one 
 ieved that the 
 . But now all 
 
 Spanish, 'bvisi- 
 about this to- 
 iii this room. 
 
 , pistol ; or stay 
 
 u may keep it ; 
 
 ntl uow, gentle- 
 
 ig the door be- 
 .th the guards, 
 ious, and each 
 , liad happened 
 hate was only 
 
 he scene can be 
 iu his mind by 
 1 account for it. 
 on, for, being a 
 my. Thinking, 
 subject, he had 
 re the sound of 
 that Harry w;vs 
 b the clue to the 
 df a dozen men, 
 
 >nce more 
 
 to the 
 
 room of ^frs. Riissidl, in the li()i)e of gaining more light yet. 
 rpon entering, hu was once mure nearly overtlintwn liy the ini- 
 pctuous onslaught ttf the irri'prcssililo .Mis. liiissi'll, whu, at this 
 
 1 
 
 new and unexpected advent of her royal htver, overwhelmed her 
 self and everybody else with her jcyons voeift-rations. This, how- 
 ever, ' his .Majesty' endured with truly royal dignity, tempering 
 kindnes- .vith lirnmess. and dealing gently with her weak wonians 
 nature. Katie was there. I)ut ihe royal eye, on wandi-ring about, 
 nolieed the absenei" of l)ol()res. 
 
 ' Whativer's beei)me av the seiiiuita /" lie asked. 
 
 ^hs. Ifussell gave a startled look around. 
 
 .screamed 
 the 
 
 o 
 
 gone 
 
 ' What ! AV'here is she / She's gone i' sue 
 
 •diost ! 
 
 sh 
 
 ! (^h, your (Jracious Majesty, the 
 Save me !' 
 * Widsht ! Ilowld yer tung!' said Mi 
 
 e'- 
 ghost ! 
 
 ^fajesly.' 
 
 *The 
 Well, 
 
 ghost, is it? So he's come an' carried olF the seuorita! 
 I've found the ghost.' 
 
 ' Found the ghost !' gasped Mr.s. liussell. 
 
 'Mesilf has. IJogorra, it's the truth I'm tellin'. Do yo know 
 Ids name V 
 
 'Ills name !' gasped !Mrs. lUt.ssell, once more thinking of her 
 late terrible fancy. 
 
 ' Vis, his name ; yo can't guess it } Xo ? Well, I'll tell yc^. 
 It's Ashbv.' 
 
 ' Ashby' ! Mr. Ashby !' cried Mrs. Russell. ' Why ! how could 
 he get here V 
 
 '(,)h, well,' said ' his iNIajesty,' ' ho did get hero, an' that'ti no 
 loie. How he got here I'll liiul out toinoirer. J5ut he did get 
 here, an' he's been here since, an' by the same token lie'.s sperited 
 oil" the sefiorita. But there's two av thim.' 
 
 'Two of them !' repeated Mrs. Bussed, iu wonder. 
 
 * Ay, two av thim ; an' the other's that young blaile Bivers !' 
 Katie, thus far, had not saitl a word. She heard of the discovery 
 
 of Ashby with surprise, but with no deeper feeling. The moment, 
 however, that the name of Bivera was mentioned she ga\e a ga.sp, 
 aial her head fell forwai'd on her hands. 
 
 ' His ^Majesty ' noticed the action. Ho put his own interpre- 
 tation upon it. But he said noi- a word that had any reference to 
 it ; he was too cautious for that. And surely in this 'his Ma- 
 jesty' showed a skill and a discrimination which was most politic, 
 and well worthy of the royal ruler of millions. JNIore than this. 
 One glance showeil hiiu how the laud lay with Katie ; so our 
 monarch, not content with abstaining from all further allusion to 
 Harr}-^, actually carried his complaisance — or, if you please, his 
 diplomacy — so far as to try to appease all possible anxieties that 
 might arise in Katie's mind. 
 
 * Shure the two lads meant no harrum at all at all,' said ' hia 
 
2CO 
 
 .1 CASTLE LV SPJ/X. 
 
 M.ijoaty.' * Tlioy happened to find a way to f,'et liero, an' they canic 
 lu'it!, an' l»('f,'oiTa they'd liave been fools if they didn't. ShuiL' 
 t(j n\ovy, there's no liariMini in hfe in coniin' hero on a hit av a 
 visit. 'An' ther's no wondher that a yonn^' uuiu 'nd conio here, 
 wid Hneli chavnmis as these to invoito him. yhuio it 'nd hi; 
 enoni^di to call the dtKul back to loife, so it would. An' if they'v.' 
 run oil" wid the seuorita, all I can say is, they can't go far ; an' 
 the seuorita will have to conio back again ; so she will : 
 
 ' " 'Tis to visit my Nnncy T go, 
 
 Tlirougli buslios jin' briers nn' llncis ; 
 Fur Nancy 1ms bDlhorcil iiic bruins, 
 Au' I've taken French liivo iiv mo sinsis.",' 
 
 ' And wasn't there any ghost at all I' asked Mrs<. Russell, tu 
 whom this information had given inexpressible relief. 
 
 ' Well,' said 'his Majesty,' 'there's uo kuowiu' ; an' it's best to 
 be on yer gyard, so it is, for sorra a one av us knows whin a ghost 
 may be prowliu' round about, an' there ye have it. As for tlio 
 other ghosts, Ashby an' Rivers, they won't do yez any more 
 liarrum — they're unilher gyard.' 
 
 * Under guanl !' said Katie, and threw an imploring look at 
 'his Majesty.' It was almost the lirst time that he had fairly 
 caught her eye, so dexterously had she always avoided his glance. 
 
 ' Well,' said 'his ]Majesty,' 'they're none the worse for that — 
 not a bit. Av all r'y'l atthributes none is so thruly majistic 
 as the atthributes av mercy, and makeuiss, an' magnauimeetce. 
 These are the shupramo atthributes av r'y'lty, an' emiuintly 
 characterize our own r'y'l character, so they does. So the young 
 lads may whistle for all av me— an' sorra u harrum shall harrum 
 tliim.' 
 
 At this Katie threw toward ' his Majesty 'a glance of gratitude 
 unspeakable, which sank deep into the royal soul. 
 
 ' An' now, ladies,' said he, ' I must iufarrum yez that afther the 
 ayvints av this noight, I doesn't cousiilher this room safe for yez 
 at all at all. Shure it's loike a public thoroughfare, an' it's a 
 gathering-place an' rendezvous for min an' angils, ghosts an' hob- 
 goblins, an' all manner av ay vil craytures. Bo the long an' the 
 short av it is, I have to infaiTum yez that I'm going to move yez 
 out av this the morrer, an' have yez put in another room where 
 there won't be nothin' in loife to harrum yez, where ye'll have 
 more comfort comboiued with safety thin ye've had here.' 
 
 This remark made Katie reflect. The worst had already 
 happened — the discovery and arrest of Harry. After that she 
 could not hope to see him again. She did not wish to leave the 
 room ; but as Harry's visits were now at an end, she could not 
 see that ifc would make any difference. But Mrs. Russell had a 
 great deal to say. 
 
A CASTLr rX SPA/X. 
 
 :oi 
 
 'oh, liow ffmti'ful !' hIio crit-'tl in her iu(»«t ;,'iishitii,' iii'iniicr ; 
 'oh, how (looj)ly <,'i!itefiil 1 am to yoiu" (rnuMttus Muusty ! It's 
 S(t kiiiil, HO thoiiL,'htt'iil, HO fuiiHidi'r.'ito.HUil ho tiiu'. oli, what can 
 I ever say or do to cxpri'ss my yratitmlc / Only, your (Iricioua 
 Majesty. <lo not loivo mo now ! JA'avo uw not — oli, foisaki' mu 
 not ! Thin room in a place of liorr(»r.s. It is a haunted chanilx-r. 
 When you ai'i' hero, I have no tear ; hut when you are;;oi:i', then 
 I am overwhelmed. Oh, your ( iracious Majesty, fornalcc me not ! 
 Leave mu not ! Oh, leave me not, or —I— shall— die.' 
 
 A^f.iinst such an appeal as Miis the },'allantiy of ' his NFaji'sty ' 
 was scarcely proof. Jlo throw a tender j,dani'e at Katie, wiiich, 
 however, was not [.'orceivetl, and then said : 
 
 ' Shuro to ^'lory, if it's afearcd ye are, why that's a different 
 inatther, so it is. 1 didu'i intind to move ye/ away this nuii,dit ; 
 hut if yez are afeared, why, there's no raison in life why} e/. 
 shouldn't ,l;o oil" now to the other room. 
 
 * (Jh, take mo away !' cried Mis. liussell ; * take mo away, your 
 Ivoyal Majesty — take mu with you !' 
 
 'Shuro it's mesilf that'll cako both av ye;^, if ye wish it, ■whin- 
 iver ye say the worrml,' said 'his Majesty.' 'An' rememher, 
 there's the crown av Spain, an' the posver, an' the i,dory, an' the 
 dignity, an' tho poiiip, au' the s|)lindor av the .S[)aniHh throne, all 
 to be had wid a wink av one av your lovely eyes, so it is. 
 liomiuiber that.' 
 
 'Ah sire!' said Mrs. liussell laii;^uishin<^Iy. 'Oil, your 
 (hacious Majesty ! Ah, what shall 1 say (' 
 
 .She had taken it all to herself, and in tho most open way ; 
 while Katie didn't take it at all. *lJis Majesty' saw this, and 
 (Icterniiued to be more ilirect. 
 
 ' Well,' said he, * ye see- 
 
 But at thi.s moment a wild yell sounded forth from without, 
 with sudden and appallin^^' fury. It burst upon their oars, from 
 the slilluess of midnight, with territic violence, chillint,^ the veiy 
 blood in their veins. Then came tho rush of heavy foot, the 
 clatter of swords, the explosion of firearms, the shouts of many 
 voices : 
 
 ' Hurrah for the Republic 1* 
 
 * Down with the Carlists !' 
 
 Mrs. Russell gave a long, piercing yell, which drowned every 
 other sound, and flung herself into ' his Majesty's ' arms. 
 
 'Ilis Majesty ' tore himself away. 
 
 ' What's that V he cried. ' It's an insurrection av the poindace, 
 so it is. We'll go off an' mate thim.' 
 
 With these words he rushed out of the room. 
 
 The ladies were left alone, and listened in terror to the uproar. 
 Up from every side there came the shouts of men, the tramp of 
 rushing feet, the clangour of trumpets, and the thunder of tire- 
 
!02 
 
 A CASTLE rx SPA/X. 
 
 li 
 Is 
 
 arms. Far ou hi'^li from the battleniouted roof ; far dowii from 
 the vaulted collar.s ; without, from the courtyards ; 'svitliiii, from 
 unseen chambers, came the uproar of liglitiui^-meu. There w;is 
 a wihl rusli forward, and another hcrce rush backward ; now all 
 the conflict seemed to sway on one side, now on another ; ;it 
 one time the congregated sounds would all gather apparently in 
 one central ])oint, then this would burst and bi'eak, and with a 
 wild ex})losion all the castle, in every part, would be tilled with 
 universal riot. Then came the clang of arms, the volleying of 
 guns, the trampling of feet, the hurrying-, the struggling, the pant- 
 ing, the convulsive screaming of a multitude of lueu in the iierco, 
 hot agony of battle. 
 
 In the midst of this the door was flung open, and ' his INIajosty' 
 burst into the room. Ilis a])])arel Avas all disordered ; liis face 
 and hands wci'e blackened with ])0wder and stained with bloui]. 
 He aj'poared to have been in the thickest of the light. lie burst 
 in. and instantly banging-to the door, he fastened it on the inside. 
 
 ' "Wt^'e betrayed !' he cried. ' It's the inimy ? AVe'U be cap- 
 tured ! We'll be executed ! All's lost !' 
 
 At this Mrs. llusscll ilung herself into the royal arms, ' TTis 
 Majesty' had by this time grown so accustomed to this that he 
 accepted it with resignation as i)art of the misfortunes of the 
 hour, aud merely heaved a sigli. 
 
 But they were roused by the thunderous blows upon the door. 
 Massive though that door was, it woukl soon be beaten in In- 
 such blows as those. 
 
 ' We're lost !' cricul ' his IMajesty.' ' Is there any way out 1 
 Shure some av yez know,' he asked eagerly. ' Ye know,' he said 
 earnestly to Kaiie, ' the way — the way //e came — Rivers !' 
 
 'His Majesty's ' position was desperate. At such an appeal 
 Katie coulJ uot bo unmoved. 
 
 ' Save me ! Show me the way,' repeated ' his Majesty.' 
 
 Katie said nuthing. She hurried toward the fireplace. * His 
 !Majesty' followed. Mrs. Eussell still clung to the royal person. 
 Katie pointed up the steps to the opening. 
 
 •■ Is it there ? — begorra, mesilf uever knowed it or suspected it 
 
 lie seized a t(irch that lay iu the fireplace, aud sprang up iuto 
 the opening. Then he lighted it. 
 
 ' Aren't you going to take me, your Sacred Majesty ? Oh, leave 
 me not !' 
 
 * Be jabers ! cried * his Majesty,' ' I'll bailie tliim yet : yis, 
 ladies — I'll help yez — come along, thin.' 
 
 Mrs. Hussell came first ; Katie then followed. Katie's motive 
 iu following was nothing in particular, but scvero; in general 
 In the first place, she was afraid of the fighting-men bursting iuto 
 the room ; in the second place, she naturally clung to the fortunes of 
 lier auntie ; aud fiually, she had a vague id ea of meetiug with Hurry. 
 
A CASTLE FN SPAIN, 
 
 203 
 
 
 Thus the two ladies followed, while * his jSIajesty ' wont ahead, 
 carr}iu<^ the torch. At length he came to a ]»lace where the 
 stone opened iuto the passage-way. It had Leeu loft open by 
 Asliby. This place seemed to ' his ^Majesty ' to lead in a more 
 favourable direction, and acconliiigly he turned in heic. Then 
 he descended the steps, and finally re:iched an opening. Ifo stood 
 here and listened. The room below seemed euipty. He de- 
 scended, re(pie8ting the ladies to woit a few moments. On reach- 
 ing the room, he ])erceived that it was closed. The door had not 
 been opened. Ashl)y Avas not there, of course, as ' liis ]\[ajesty ' 
 knew ; but 'his Majesty 'was not a little surprised at seeing Do- 
 lores. There was no chance for her to hide, so she stood loukintj 
 at him. But her face was pale, and sad, and frightuned. 
 
 Before a word could be said, Mrs. llussell scrambled down, 
 and came clinging to ' his jNFajesty.' Katie followed, and in great 
 amazement saw ])olores. She at once ran up to her, put her arms 
 around her, and kissed her. 
 
 ' I might accuse this seilorita of high traison,' said ' his ^lajesty,' 
 'bnt what's the use ^' 
 
 ' Oh, sire, spare her !' said INIrs. Russell. ' Ilenicmber, that 
 mercy is majesty's darling attribute.' 
 
 ' liedad it is,' said * his Majesty.' ' Whoivcr says it isn't ] And 
 you, seilorita,' said * his Majesty ' to Dolores, iu Spanish — ' you 
 .seem to know the secret ways here.' 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Why did you come here V 
 
 ' I fled here.' 
 
 'His Majesty' smiled. 
 
 'Oh, I undei'stand ; but don't fear mo. I wouldn't harm you 
 — though this does look like treason. Still, answer mo frankly, 
 do you know any other secret passages V 
 
 ' 1 know them all.' 
 
 ' Will you help me to escape V 
 
 Doloresdiesitated. 
 
 ' You need not hesitate ; if you don't help me I'll kill you. 
 No, I won't kill you — I'll kill Ashby. He's in the hands of six. 
 of my guards. I've only to give the word, antl he'll be shot. 
 Quick, now — what do you .say T 
 
 ' Will you let me go free I' asked Dolores. 
 
 'Well,' said 'ihis Majesty,' ' under the circumstances, I thiidc T 
 will consent to let you go free. Oh yes ; only show me the way 
 out, and you may do as you choose.' 
 
 'Then I (will show you,' said Dolores. 'But, first, will you 
 toll nie iu what room Seiior Ashby is contuied /' 
 
 'No,' said 'his Majesty'; 'get me out first, and then I will let 
 you know all you wish.' 
 
 ' Very well,' said Dolores. 
 
H^- 
 
 !04 
 
 A CASTLH FN SPAIN. 
 
 Slio U'd tlio WAy up into the pasHa^^c wlii('h ilioy had Itl'l. 
 INIrs. Ifussrll I'dllowiMl e'loHo upoii'liis M.aji'nty'a' lu.T'ls. Ah for 
 Kati(>, slic did not move. 
 
 Follow / \\\\y should slie I It wan (piiot liorc, and tho iiii- 
 mediate fear of (ho anucd iiion no loiij^or impelled her away. 
 |Sh()uld she leave (he easlle / Not she. The easile Heeme(| to he 
 eapliiied by some enemy. This enemy must he the soldiers «if 
 the j;()vernnien(. hi that case she oui^ht hy all means to stay. 
 I'esides, she knew that llany waa still hei<', and to csca,j)u with- 
 out him was r.ot to be Ihouj^ht of. 
 
 The eonse(pienee was that Katie remained bi'hind. It was 
 very dark ; luit that made no dilleience, as she had ;Lfi'o\\a 
 neeustomed to the daikn(>ss sinee she had come here. 'I'rue, tlic 
 iuoonlu>aniH ulinnneri'd thi'ouiih the uairow windows, but llio 
 greater part, of the room was wunk in ^i,doom. She thouL;ht for a 
 moment of trying' to persuade her ' Auntie ' to remain ; b... tlit> 
 next instant she relleoted \\\)o\\ the infatuation of ' Auntie' aboat 
 ' Ilia Majesty/ and eoneluded that it would be usele.s.s b) say a 
 word. 7\nd therefore 'Auntie' went otV, leavinij Katie aloiu', 
 seeking the erown of Spain, and the throne, and see[»tre, and 
 powei", nn"i!;ht, dominion, pon\p, ,splemh>ur, and majesty — will o'- 
 tlu>-wisps all of them, my beloved readers, in search of which 
 l'n» afraid poor ' Auntie ' will come to i^rief. 
 
 |)t)lores led the way, followed thus by ' lii:-! ^NFajesty' and 
 * .Auntie.' .At the top they came to the stone door-way, wlnrli 
 Avas still open. 'J'his Dolores closed cai'efully- 'J'hen she pressed 
 against a stone which v.'as on the opposite side of the cha,mbor. 
 It yielded, and opened in just like the other. Passing throii'^fh, 
 tlu_, all found themselves in a chand)er like the last., only it ran 
 in a ilillerent direction. Here Dolores closed this door as caio- 
 fully as before. 
 
 From this chamber another ])assiagc-W'ay led. It is not neces- 
 sary to detail here the way l>y which Dolores led them. SuirKo 
 it to say that it was long, tortuous, and constantly descend iii!,^ 
 by means of many stei)s, Sev^eral stone doors hud to be opened. 
 'J\) one looS familiar than ]\Mv)res, all passage through would have 
 been impossible, and 'his JNlajesty' came to the et)nclusion that 
 he could never (ind his way back, if ever lie wanted to conio. 
 lie said as much to l)()lores. 
 
 ' It's easy to learn,' said she. * The plan on which it is arranged 
 is so simple that a child can understand it when once it is ex- 
 }ilained ; but you never could li nd it out for yourself.' 
 
 ' Very likelv,' said ' his jMajesty.' ' It's the way with most 
 riildles.' 
 
 They continued on, until at last they came to a ])lace at wliicli 
 Dolores, after pushing the rock, stood and listened, There was a 
 sound, outside, of rushing water. 
 
A CASTLi: IN SPAfjX. 
 
 :o; 
 
 Tlioii, ]iuh]ii'ii,i^' nl llio inck .'i[^';iiii, it, ()|i('iic(|. 'I'lic Inrcli-li'^'lil, 
 sliiiiiii.Lj out «lisclnH('(| ;i c'tvcrii, ;it. (lie inoiilli of wliidi thin 
 ]);iss;i;^fo-\v;iy tliiin opciXMl. A bnx.k liiildilcd ;il(iii'_( in frniil,. 
 ()p|i().siti! w;(H ;i piccipicc. Aliovc nv;ih tlic Hi<y, \vlin(' Hk; moon 
 shoiu'. Tlioy wi'ie at the boUoiii of tlic ilccp clia in. 
 
 CHArTMR XXXIX. 
 
 ly (U'SL'oiKliiig 
 
 HOW l.OIM'.Z ACAIN Mi;i;'l'S Willi KA'ili;, AMI ll(»U' KA'ili; 
 
 sii(>\v,s No ,i(»^- AT iii;i: im;i,ivi;i;an(i;. 
 
 KaI'Ii; roni.'iiriotl, as has heoii slaLcil, in llic lower room, Avliirli 
 1i;mI l)(;(;ii Aslil)y"s i)Iaco of imprisfiiiinctit,. Slio wan not loii;^f 
 lul'l, nloiio : Kooii slio luiard llio iioiso o'' I'ootstcpsi. 'I'licro was 
 iidtliiii'; in tJiis sound to alarm Iicr, liowovor, ami so slic waited 
 (piito calmly, iliinkinjf tliat IIk; iiuw-coiner iiii'^lit, ho luoro 
 friendly than the last,, and llialj this new Inrn of alVairs inii;;liL 
 improve her position. 'I'lie door opiunid, and a man enlcrc^d in 
 tlie dress of an ollicer, while hcdiind him there were visiMe 
 soldieis ill the nnil'orm of the Spanish army. These men 
 carried torches. 'J'he first comer also had a torch, which he held 
 liiL,di above his hea«l as he stared about and pe(!re<l thion;^di llie 
 ;jf|ouni. At lenifth he can^dit siidit of Katie, and, Avith aery (d" 
 joy, advanced straijflit toward her. It was not until ho had 
 come close to her that Katie Avas ablo to recot^Miiso liope/,. 
 
 * Why, (Japtain ijopcz !' she said, in excellent Si)anish ; for 
 her Spanish connections, and life in Spain, ha<l made her as 
 familiar as a native Avith that langiiai,'0. 'I never Ava.s so 
 amazed in my life. I never heard th.it you Avcrc here ; Avhy 
 haven't I seen you before V 
 
 L(ipez paused for a moment in surprise at Katie's Avords, and 
 still more at her manner. 
 
 'I've only arrived this instant,' said lie, 'and I've come liero 
 to save you from these briL,^ands, and conifratnlate you and 
 niyselC on my ,i,mod fortune in finding you. 'i'he other ladies I 
 cannot find. 1 hope, scfiorita, that you have not siill'ered mucli 
 Avhile hero a prisoner in the hands of these rullians 'i' 
 
 ' Oh, no,' said Katie. 
 
 'This room is not fit for you,' cnntinucd Lopez, 'and you 
 shall at once bo removed to a more comfortable a[)artincnt.' 
 
 Sucli a proposal as this Avas by no means a,!:,a'eeable to Katie, 
 Avho liked the idea of tho Becrct passage, and did not Avish to 
 go t)ut of roach of it. 
 
 'Oh, do not take mc aAvay from here !' said she. I assure 
 you I prefer this room to any other. lu fact, I am quite 
 attached to it.' 
 
■■■ 
 
 2o6 
 
 ■i CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 
 Lopez laughed. 
 
 'Really,' said he, ' I had no idea that a prisoner could become 
 attached to such a gloomy dungeon as this. Ah, s<eiiorita, you 
 arc jesting. I assure you, however, that there are bettor 
 rooms than this in the castle, and in a few minutes you shiiU 
 be taken to one. You sliall also be provided with prtjci- 
 attendants ; for there are Avomen about the castle who can 
 wait on you.' 
 
 Lopez was so earnest and determined that Katie saw plainly 
 the uselessness of any further objections, and therefore mur- 
 mured a few civil words of thanks. 
 
 Lopez looked profoundly disappointed. lie had come in 
 the glory of a conqueror — more, of a deliverer ; to free Katie 
 from the hands of a remorseless tyrant ; to break in pieces lier 
 chains ; to snatch her from the jaws of death. He had ex- 
 pected to see her on the verge of despair ; he had fully counted 
 on being received by her in wild and enger excitement, alnidst 
 like a messenger from Heaven. It was upon all this that he liad 
 counted, as he had toiled to effect her rescue. His task hiul 
 been by no means light. Fortune had favoured him, or else his 
 toil would all have been unavailing. His rescue of her in so 
 short a time was therefore very near the miraculous. And now, 
 as he came to her, after all his efforts, after all this brillii'.c 
 success, with these hopes and expectations, he found his arrival 
 greeted in the coolest manner, and treated as the most common- 
 place thing in the world. ]\Iore than this, instead of finding 
 Katie languishing in her dungeon, he found her actually un- 
 willing to leave it, and pretending that she had an ' ati;achment 
 for it.' Of course, all this was pretence and affectation, yet 
 still there was something luiderneath which Lopez could not 
 quite comprehend. For the present he could only conceal his 
 deep disappointment and vexation as best he mi;jht, and arrange 
 his plans for the future. 
 
 ' After retiring for a few minutes, he came back with a woman. 
 This was one of the women who had been captured, and was 
 now allowed to remain on condition of service, the particular 
 service required of her being merely attendance upon Katie. 
 
 Lopez here had a f I'esh disappointment. He had seen Katie's 
 solitary state, and thought that by bringing her an attendant he 
 would give her pleasure. But to Katie the presence of any 
 attendant was exceedingly distasteful. It was like having 
 a spy set over her. It was bad enough to be taken away from 
 within reach of those secret passages, but to be afflicted with 
 this attendant and spy was too much. 
 
 Lopez noticed her slight frown and her downcast look. He 
 was surprised once more, and more disappointed than cvl '. 
 
 ' And now, seilorita,' said Lopez, ' if you are quite ready, I 
 
 
A CASTA/- AV SPA/X. 
 
 207 
 
 will show you tho way to the new room, where you may stay no 
 long as you remain here' 
 
 * Very well, sefior captain,' said Katie (juietly, 
 
 'If you have any lugyage, it shall bo sent up to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Thanks, seuor.' 
 
 Upon this Cai)tain Lopez went out with the torch, and Katie, 
 with her attendant, followed. She noticed, as she went, that 
 there were marks of great confusion in the castle ; some men 
 were bound, others lying wounded, with women weeping over 
 them ; others, again, in the Spanish uniform, were lolling about, 
 drinking and carousing. 
 
 Katie followed Lopez upstairs, and hero in tho upper hall 
 there were the same signs as below, though the crowd of men 
 was not so great nor so noisy. Passing through this, they came 
 to a third stairway, which ran up from one side of this upper 
 hall and led into a passagc-Avay higher still. Ileic Lopez opened 
 a door, and, oii entering, Katie saw a room which was smaller 
 than those below. One or two mats were on the stone lloor. 
 There was a couch at one end covered Avitli skins, and at the 
 other a large chest. Tho room bore marks of having been re- 
 cently occupied, and Katie thought that perhaps the occupant 
 had been ' his Majest}'.' 
 
 The Avindows here, of which there were several, were narrow 
 t^lits like those below : and a hasty glance showed Katie that 
 they looked down into the courtyard. This, however, gave her 
 no consolation. It was a matter of indifference now where she 
 was. Having been taken away from tho neighbourhood of 
 those friendly passage-ways, all other places seemed equally ob- 
 jectionable. Her discontent and dejection were evident in her 
 face, though she made no remark. 
 
 ' I am sorry,' said Lopez, ' deeply sorry that I have nothing 
 better than this room to offer ; but I hope that before long wo 
 shall be able to leave the castle.' 
 
 Katie did not hope so, and, in fact, did not know whether to 
 hope so or not. All would depend upon circumstances. And 
 as she did not know how circumstances were, and Avas not will- 
 ing to ask, she did not know what to say now ; so she simply 
 said the very non-committal words : 
 
 ' Thanks, seiior.' 
 
 Lopez could tell prettj'' well why she said no more than this 
 li was because she felt dissatisfied about something in connec- 
 tion with her rescue — but what that something Avas ho could not 
 conjecture. That was tho mystery which battled him. How- 
 ever, he had sense enough to see that his own best couj'so was to 
 leave her to her own devices, and not annoy her by ill-timed 
 questions. So he prepared to depart. 
 
 ' Scilorita,' said he, ' this woman is your attendant. If you 
 
2o8 
 
 d CAS TIF IN SPAIN. 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 i' / 
 
 
 M 
 
 i ii- 
 
 i . 
 
 are afraid to be alone, she will sleep in the room with you ; but) 
 if yon prefer it. she will not.' 
 
 ' Oh, I shonld so very much prefer being left alone, Capl:uu 
 Lopez !' said Katie hurriedly. 
 
 Lopez looked surprised. 
 
 * Oh, very well,' said ho ; ' but I thought you were so thiiul 
 that you would prefer having some one.' 
 
 ' Oh no — thanks ! I'm not at all timid,' said Katie. 
 
 This was a new surprise to Lojjcz, who had believed Katie to 
 be the most timid young lady living. But he said nothing more. 
 lie merely wished her good-night ; and, having directed the 
 attendant to leave, he locked the door after him and went 
 away, a deeply disappointed and a deeply meditating man. 
 
 Katie sprang to the door, held hor ear close, and listened till 
 the footstejis had died away. Then she hurried back. Her 
 quick eye had noticed the fragment of a wax-candle on tlio 
 floor, in a corner. Some matches were lying loosely about, "wliich 
 had evidently been used ])y 'his Majesty ' to light the royal 
 pipe. With one of these Katie lighted the candle, and surveyed 
 the apartment once more. 
 
 Tlicre was a fireplace here, deep, but not so high or lar^o as 
 the others before mentioned. This Katie examined first. Alas I 
 she saAV nothing. The chimney ran straight up, and not an 
 opening appeared. 
 
 After this she retreated dejectedly, and examined no 
 farther. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 IN AVIIICII THERE SEEM^i POME CHANCE OF A TKIANGULAK 
 
 DUEL. 
 
 HAimY and Ashby, transformed from bosom friends to mortal 
 enemies, now occupied the same room, but with an armed guard 
 to prevent further intercourse. Such intercourse was, howovor, 
 more effectually prevented by something far more powerful tliaii 
 any armed guard — namely, by mutual hate, and by the con- 
 sciousness that their hostile meeting, though interrupted, liad 
 not been terminated. It had only been deferred ; and yet 
 again, at some future time, they must meet and settle tiiis 
 quarrel. Even this prospect, howevei', important though it was, 
 did not by any means form the most important"' part of tlicir 
 thoughts as they stood thus apart absorbed in themselves. 
 Each one turned his thoughts rather to the events which liad 
 last occupied him before they had encountered one anotlu r ; 
 and so, while Harry wandered in fancy back to Katie'.s rouiu, 
 Ashby was taken up with tender reminiscences of Dolores. 
 In the midst of such sentimental meditations, they were 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 209 
 
 were so timid 
 
 examined no 
 
 TIUANGULAU 
 
 startled by tho sudden outburst of tliat loud alfirm and wild 
 tumult already mentioned. In an instant they both were roused 
 out of their abstraction, and l)rought back to the stern realities of 
 life. The guard, too, wore routed, and, springing to their feet, 
 they stood waiting for orders. But after a few minutes the up- 
 roar became so tremendous that the position of the guards grew 
 unendurable, and ihey went to tho door and tried to open it. 
 This they could not do, for it was fastened on the outside, so 
 that departure from the room by that way was not possible ; 
 yet tho sounds which came to their ears were sufficient to inform 
 them of the whole truth, and tell them that tho castle had been 
 surprised by an attacking party, which was evidently victorious. 
 
 The longer they listened tho plainer did this become, and 
 from this there arose the inevitable conclusion that they — that 
 is, the Carlist guard — were prisoners. Upon this, rostiveness 
 and uneasiness began to be visible among them, and a dread of 
 their coming doom from the hands of merciless enemies quite 
 demoralized them. They exchanged looks of terror ; they 
 looked wildly around to see if there were any chances of escape ; 
 but to their eyes the stone walls, the stone floor, tho narrow 
 windows, and the vaulted roof offered not a chance of escape, or 
 even of a partial concealment. 
 
 As for Harry and Ashby, they passed in one instant from 
 depths of despair to the highest hope. They recognised the 
 shouts and the watchword of tho Republic, and felt that in the 
 hands of the soldici's of the government they would be safe. 
 
 Suddenly the door was opened. Outside were armed men 
 with blazing torches, from among whom there advanced into 
 the room an officer. The Carlists were immediately disarmed, 
 and their arms taken outside. But the officer took no notice of 
 them. His eyes, searching on every side, soon perceived Harry 
 and Ashby, who had drawn near. 
 
 ' Sefior captain,' said Harry, ' I rejoice that you have come to 
 save us from captivity and death. We have been here as 
 prisoners for two or three days, and an immense ransom was 
 exacted from us, which we could not pay. Had you not come, 
 we should undoubtedly have been shot.' 
 
 Ashby said not a Avord. He had recognised Lopez at a glance, 
 and dreaded the worst from this vengeful enemy. Lopez kept 
 his eyes fixed on Ashby as he spoke, though he addressed 
 liarry. 
 
 ' Seuors,' said he, * I am glad that I have come in time to avert 
 so horrible a crime. You, senor,' he continued, addressing 
 Harry, 'may retire : you are free. You will be respected and 
 protected by my followers, and may either go, or remain till our 
 return to V'ittoria. As for Senor Ashby, I wish to have a brief 
 conversation with him.' 
 
 14 
 
I 
 
 no 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 At this Harry bowed, and with some further expression of 
 gratitudr . ent out of the room a free man, his heart swelling 
 with exultation and joy and hope. 
 
 ' Seuor Ashby,' said Lopez, * wo have mot again.' 
 
 Ashby bowed. 
 
 * Sefior Ashby,' continued Lopez, • insults have been given and 
 received on both sides, and we arc already under engagements 
 to have a hostile meeting. Is it not so T 
 
 Ashby bowed again. Lopez had spoken these words in a low 
 tone, which was inaudible to his men. lie now turned and 
 ordered them to withdraw, and stand outside until further orders, 
 They obeyed. 
 
 ' Seiior Ashby,' he continued, ' the lady is here for whom wo 
 both are seeking. It was about her that our quarrel arose.' 
 
 ' I am ready now,' said Ashby. 
 
 ' For the quarrel ?' said Lopez. ' Ay— but I am not ;' and he 
 gave a bitter laugh. 
 
 * A man of honour,' said Ashby scornfully, ' will always be 
 ready.' 
 
 Lopez again gave a bitter laugh. 
 
 * Dear sefior,' said he, ' I have had too many affairs to be 
 afraid of risking my reputation as a man of honour by post- 
 poning our little meeting. I have other things to attend to 
 first. And first I must have a little leisure to get rid of that 
 bitterness and gall which you, seuor, with your English super- 
 ciliousness, have poured into my heart. For a time you had 
 your hour of triumph, and I was made to feel by you all the 
 insolent superiority of a man of wealth over a man of the 
 people. But now, seiior, our positions have changed. I have 
 the power, and you are nothing. Even your wealth will not 
 save you ; for while you are my prisoner all the gold of Mexico 
 will be unavailing to deliver you until I choose.' 
 
 Ashby had now a sudden thought that his position was very 
 'peculiar and very unenviable. He had just quarrelled with his 
 best friend, and had just been saved from murdering him, for 
 the sake of a girl whom he had ceased to love (or whom he 
 believed he had ceased to love, which was the same thing just 
 then) ; and now here was another of Katie's numerous lovers, 
 full of love and jealousy — the one as strong as death, the other 
 as cruel as the grave ; which lover was evidently now regarding 
 him as a tiger regards his helpless victim, and was playing with 
 him for a time, so as to enjoy his torments before devouring him, 
 These thoughts passed through his mind, and he had notliiug 
 to say. 
 
 * Seiior,' said Lopez, ' our quarrel was about that young lady, 
 and our meeting may take place at any time. For the present, 
 I have to say that if you will consent to give up all claim to her 
 
 ii ) 
 
,1 CASTLE IX SPAfX. 
 
 211 
 
 ixpression of 
 eart swelling 
 
 3en given and 
 engagements 
 
 rords in a low 
 tv turned and 
 urther orders. 
 
 for whom wo 
 rel arose.' 
 
 1 not ;' and be 
 
 vill always be 
 
 f affairs to be 
 ^nour by post- 
 s to attend to 
 get rid of tbat 
 English super- 
 time you bad 
 by you all tbe 
 a man of the 
 nged. I have 
 ealth will not 
 old of Mexico 
 
 baud and leave the castle, I will send 5'ou at once with a suffi- 
 cient guard to any place you name, or to the nearest station. 
 But if not, then I shall be under the painful necessity of detain- 
 ing you.' 
 
 ' May I ask,' said Ashby, ' upon what ground you propose to 
 detain me ?' 
 
 ' Certainly,' said Lopez. ' I arrest you as a spy.' 
 
 'Aspy !' 
 
 < Certainly. What are you doing here ? You were seized by 
 tbe Carlists, it is true, but what of that? You may have 
 betrayed your party to them. I find you coming Xorth on no 
 f'ood or reasonable errand. You certainly were following that 
 party— as a spy, or something like it — in vour private interests. 
 I am t .oref ore at liberty to arrest you as a spy, perhaps in league 
 with the enemies of Spain. It is a charge of which I can prove 
 jou guilty, and for which you will 1)0 shot.' 
 
 'And that is a gentleman's satisfaction !' said Ashby with a 
 sneer. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said Lopez, ' obtain satisfaction in many ways. 
 It will give me no small satisfaction, for instance, to know that 
 you are here while I urge my suit for the young lady's hand, for 
 which I have the good wishes and co-operation of her guardian. 
 It will give me no small satisfaction to inform you w' hen, as she 
 surely will, she grants me her consent ; and, finally, the highest 
 satisfaction of all Avill be afforded when I request your presence 
 at our wedding — a compliment which, I am sure, seilor. you will 
 appreciate. For, seiior, wo shall be married here, and imme- 
 diately, since I have brought a priest with me, so as to put the 
 whole matter beyond the reach of accident.' 
 
 Having fired off this heavy shot, Lopez watched to see the 
 effect upon his victim. Ashby showed not the slightest emotion. 
 Neither in face nor in gesture did he evince any agitation what- 
 ever ; nor in his voice, for he said, in a pei'fectly cool and in- 
 different way : 
 
 ' Very well, seuor. I can do nothing against all that.' 
 
 Lopez felt disappointed. He had expected to see agonies 
 depicted on his helpless victim, and to exult in the sight. But 
 he concluded that this was owing to Ashby's ' English phlegm,' 
 and that he Avas thus preserving, like the Indian at the stake, a 
 proudly calm exterior, while really suffering torments of hidden 
 pain. 
 
 ' Since you are so calm,' said Lopez again, ' perhaps you will 
 consent to purchase your freedom by formally relinquishing all 
 claim to that young lady's hand. That is the shortest way of 
 regaining your liberty, and it will be quite satisfactory to me.' 
 
 Lopez spoke this in an ironical tone, taunting Ashby thus on 
 bis cool demeanour. Now, the giving up of all claim?* to Katie 
 
 14 — 2 
 
212 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 was in itself so far from being repugnant to Ashby, that, as the 
 reader knows, ho had ah'cady virtually renounced her, and 
 formally, too, by Avord of mouth to Dolores. But to do tliis to 
 Lopez was a far dilTercut thing. It would, he felt, bo base ; it 
 would be cowardly ; it would be a vile piece of truckling to an 
 enemy, who would exult over it to the end of his days. Tho 
 idea could not be entertained for a moment. 
 
 * Seiior,' said Ashby, with his usual coolness, ' you are well 
 awaro that, apart from all other considerations, your pro- 
 position could not bo entertained for a moment by a man of 
 honour.' 
 
 ' Perhaps not,' said Lopez ; ' but I had to make mention of 
 it, merely as a form, and not supposing that you would enter- 
 tain it.' 
 
 ' I aui in the hands of fortune,' said Ashby ; ' I'll take my 
 chances as they come.' 
 
 Upon this Lopez said nothing more, but, with a formal adieu, 
 took his departure. Ashby was loft with the six unarmed 
 Carlist prisoners. 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 
 now THE UNIUrrY nUSSELL FINDS THE DANGER OF PLAYING 
 
 •WITH EDGE-TOOLS. 
 
 When Lopez, with the assistance of Rita, had burst into the 
 castle, he had left his prisoners in the tower in the charge of a 
 couple of guards, these prisoners being Brooke, Talbot, and 
 Russell. During the attack on the castle there was a time in which 
 Russell might very easily have escaped. The two guards were 
 eager to join the melee, and as their instructions had reference 
 principally to Brooke and Talbot, they paid no attention what- 
 ever to the ' Hungarian lady.' They knew that Rita had done 
 an act for which the captain would reward her, and concliuled 
 that the ' Hungarian lady ' was a friend rather than a pi-isoner. 
 Under such circumstances escape would have been easy enough 
 to Russell, had he been bold enough to attempt it. 
 
 Yet, after all, how could he really escape ? To go back over 
 the same road would be only to encounter fresh perils, perhaps 
 worse than any with which he had met hitherto. To go in any 
 other direction would be simple madness. There was, therefore, 
 no other coarse open to him than to remain where he was. 
 
 After a long time some of the men came back, at the command 
 of Lopez, with orders to bring the prisoners into the castle. The 
 guard obeyed and followed, taking with them Brooke and 
 Talbot. Russell was about to accompany them, and was just 
 
; ' I'll take my 
 
 GER OF PLAYING 
 
 A CASTLE AV SPA/X. 
 
 -'3 
 
 hcsitdting aa to the path, when siuldcnly lie found lilmsclf cun- 
 frontcil by Rita, \vlio had just como up. 
 
 ' lI-H-s-s-sli !' 8lio said. ' All is safe. T haf my reward. 
 The captain hal" pay nic. Now "\vo sshall go. Alhi right. 
 Conic !' 
 
 llussell felt a strange sinking of heart. As to going away with 
 her, that was not to bo thought of, and ho only sought now for 
 Bomc phiusiblo excuse. 
 
 'I— I'm too tired,' ho said ; 'I'm worn out, Kita. I cannot 
 walk.' 
 
 ' Uah !' said she. ' Come — you shall not go far ; I take you to 
 wlicrc you shall restar.' 
 
 ' But I'm tired,' said Russell. ' I want to rest here.' 
 
 ' Bah ! you not too tired to go one-two mile ; that not mooch 
 to go. Come !' 
 
 'I can't,' whined Russell. 
 
 ' But you will bo captar— you shall bo a prcesonairc — you 
 shall he deescovaire— alia found out i-y the capitan ; so conic — 
 fly, you haf no time to lose.' 
 
 ' I can't help it,' said Russell, in d}spair. ' If I'm caught 
 again I don't care. I'm worn out.' 
 
 ' But you moos !' 
 
 ' I can't.' 
 
 ' Come — I shall carry you ; I shall lifta you, and carry you 
 to your safetydom. Come !' 
 
 ' It's impossible,' said Russell, Avho, in addition to his fear, 
 began to feel vexation at this woman's pertinacity. 
 
 There was something in his tone which made Rita pause. 
 She stood erect, folded her arms, and looked at him. The 
 moonlight fell on both. Each could see the other. Russell did 
 not feel pleased with her appearance. Slio looked too hard — 
 too austere. She seemed to have an unlimited possibility of 
 daring and of vengeance. He began to think that he had l)cen 
 playing with edge-tools, and that in trying to make use of Rita 
 he had only gained a new master for himself. The vague fears 
 which had been gathering through the day now grew stronger, 
 and he realized his full danger. 
 
 'You not want to fly ? You not want to 'scape ?' said Rita, 
 with a frown. 
 
 Russell thought it best to own up. 
 
 ' V/ell, n-n-no,' said he. ' On the whole, I do not.' 
 
 * Why ?' asked Rita, in a hard voice. 
 
 ' Oh— well — I've — I've — I've changed my mind,' said Russell 
 in a trembling voice. 
 
 He began to be more afraid of Rita than ever. 
 
 'Ah !' said Rita. ' It is so— very well. Now leest'n to me : 
 look at me. What haf I done ? I haf betray my maestro— I 
 
314 
 
 A 
 
 CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 liaf betray my f riciuls ; tliia castlo is took ; my friends nva run 
 away, many of tlicm dead ; their bodies are over tliero— lluy 
 avo dead. Who kill them V I — I, the traidor ! I, tho Judas ! 
 I betray! And why V I l)ctray — beeanso you tempt me ! Do 
 you know that ? You tem])t mc ! You ask mo to helpa yon I 
 you promise mc all the world ! I helpa you ! I make myself n, 
 traidoi', and now it haf como to this ! 
 
 'Where arc my friends?' ccmtinucd llita. 'Gone! flcid I 
 dead ! They sail haunt mo — tlicir ^diosts— they sail call for 
 vcnganza ; and I haf make myself a traidor to the friends that 
 lofo mo an' was kind ! See me, what I am ! You haf make mc 
 to this — you ! you ! you ! What ! do you think I sail let you tmri 
 f also to mo ? No! ncvairo ! You sail bo true to mc— wliat- 
 evaire ! You haf promis to gif mo all tho world. Yoti hat' 
 promis to gif mo you'sclfa. You sail bo what you say — " my 
 man !" I sail liaf tho rccomponsa, if I dio fromremordimicnlu. 
 If you bo a traidor to mo, I sail haf tho venganza !' 
 r During this wild harangue Rita seemed transported to f ury— 
 slio seemed a madwoman. Russell trembled in every limb lioni 
 Bhocr terror. Ho never had in all his life seen anything liko 
 this. His only hope now was to escape from her insane rage, 
 ne matter under whoso protection. 
 
 At length she stopped and grew calmer. Then she said, in a 
 low, stern voice : 
 
 ' Now — will yon como ? Will you fly ?' 
 
 Russell shuddered more than over. Fly ? Not he ! Slu; 
 might tear him to pieces, but ho would never fly with her. Fly? 
 Why, it was impossible ! He might, indeed, fly from her ; but 
 as to flying irilh her, that could not be thought of. 
 
 Ho shrunk back, trembling in every limb. 
 
 ' I can't,' he said — ' I can't ; I'm too weak — I'm old — and weak 
 and worn out.' 
 
 ' But I say,' continued Rita impatiently, * that I sail take you 
 to a place where you sail restar.' 
 
 'I cnn't,' said Russell. 
 
 * Do } ou intendar to keep you promccsc ?' 
 
 * What promise ?' said Russell hesitatingly. 
 ' To marry me,' said Rita coldly. 
 
 * Marry you 1 I never said that,' replied Russell. 
 ' You did,' 
 
 ' I did not. I have a wife living— you know that, surely. She 
 is in the castle.' 
 
 ' She ? Bah ! She is dead. I knoAv that,' said Rita triumph- 
 antly. 
 
 Russell shuddered more than ever. Dead ! dead ! he thought 
 What a thought of horror ! And how ? Was it this woman 
 that did the deed— this fiend from the robbers' hold— to make 
 
 I 
 
A cAsrr.n rx spa/x. 
 
 31$ 
 
 'rionds aro nui 
 cr tlioro— lll(■y 
 I, tlio Jiidiis I 
 nipt nio ! J)<) 
 I to liclpa yoii ! 
 makouiysclt'a 
 
 'fJono! fl(!(l! 
 y H.iU call I'oi- 
 10 friends tli;it 
 u liaf make mc 
 lalllet you tiiiii 
 
 to nic— wliat- 
 orld. You liaf 
 you say — " iny 
 I'cmordiniicnio. 
 
 )rtcd to f nvy— 
 very limb from 
 I anything liko 
 cr insane ra<»c. 
 
 n she said, in a 
 
 Not he ! SIk; 
 with her. Fly? 
 from her ; Init 
 f. 
 
 old — and ^vcak 
 
 I sail take you 
 
 ell. 
 
 lat, surely. She 
 
 1 Rita triumpli- 
 
 id ! he thouglii. 
 1 it this woman 
 hold— to make 
 
 room for hor.sclf? llussoll felt that she was capahlo of any 
 enormity, and his soul sickened at the thought, llo groaned, 
 anil was silent. 
 
 ' Dead, I tell yon ! dead ! She is dead ! Aha ! you think mo 
 fool, simple, aha I Hut I know, I know to take car' of tho 
 nnnihcr one ! Aha 1 how you liko that, raeestairo ? And now 
 Iccst'u,' continued Rita. ' Y<m not fly ? Very well. You s.iU 
 come to tho castle. You sail stay with tho capitan. You sail 
 tell him all — 1 tell him all. He shall judi,'o and decidar. (Jomo ! 
 conic ! You Ball not stay here. You sail go and rcstar your 
 old hone.' 
 
 Rita motioned to him sternly to follow, and Russell obeyed, 
 lie was not at all disinclined to move in this direction, sinco it 
 led him to tho friendly protection of the castle. It was with 
 uncommon vigour and nimblencss that he followed his tormentor 
 down tho steep side, and across tho brook at tho bottom, and 
 up the other side. Rita noticed this, and said scornfully : 
 
 ' You too weak to go one-two mile on tho level groun', but 
 yoii strong enough to dcscendar and ascend.ar these clilT. But 
 wait, old man — remember if you falsa mi 1 sail haf my venganza. 
 Now you go and spik to tho capitan, and you see what ho sail 
 do for you.' 
 
 Rita said no more, but led Russell along until they reached 
 tho castle. There Russell seated himself on tho stone iloor 
 among tho soldiers, feeling safer hero than anywhere, whilo 
 Rita went away. Russell supposed that she had gone in search 
 of Lopez to tell her oAvn story first. 
 
 He was right. Lopez had been very busy, but Rita was able, 
 after all, to obtain a hearing from him sufficiently long to en- 
 able her to plead her cause in her own way. She told Lopez 
 all. 
 
 Now Lopez was under great obligations to Rita, and was 
 ready to do almost anything for her. At tho same time, ho was 
 the bitter enemy of Russell. Hero there Avas an opportunity 
 open to him to evince gratitude and to obtain vengeance. Ho 
 appreciated the situation most fully. Ho promised Rita that ho 
 would do whatever she wished. 
 
 ' I only wish one thing,' said Rita : ' make him keep his 
 promise.' 
 
 * I will,' said Lopez. 
 
 'Will you make him marry me ?' 
 
 'I will,' said Lopez. ' I have a priest here. I have brought 
 him here, for I expect to be married myself to a lady whom I 
 have long loved in vain. I have rescued her from these foul 
 brigands, and she will not now refuse me. And I promise, Rita, 
 that you shall be married to your dear one at the same time that 
 I am married to mine, and by the same priest.' 
 
2l6 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 Upon this Rita was voluble in the expression of her gratitude. 
 Lopez now went to seek out Russell. He found the good ni;m 
 wearied and worn out. Ho led him away to a room tli;it 
 happened to Ijo the vy one in which ho was confined befoic. 
 Brooke and Talbot were both here. Russell entreated Brooke 
 to intercede for him with Lopez. Lopez saw the action and 
 understood it. 
 
 * What does he want ?' said Lopez. 
 
 Russell then explained, through Brooke, what Lopez had 
 already learned through Rita, namely, that he was Mr. Russell, 
 and that Rita Avas claiming his fulfilment of a promise which lie 
 had never made, and could never fulfil — first, on the ground 
 that Rita had not freed him ; and, secondly, on the more im- 
 portant ground that he was already married. To all this the 
 answer of Lopez was brief and stern. 
 
 * She did free you,' said he, * for you are now out of the powci 
 of the Carlists, and may be your own master on the perform- 
 ance of your promise. Moreover, as to your being married 
 already, Rita assures me that your former wife is dead.' 
 
 At this Russell groaned. 
 
 * She is not dead,' he said. 
 
 * Oh, well,' said Lopez, ' I don't care. Rita is willing to run 
 the risk.' 
 
 Russell now pleaded for Katie's sake. But this roused Lopez 
 to worse anger. 
 
 * If you were merely a cruel father,' said he, ' I would forgive 
 you for her sake ; but you are a guardian, and not over-honest. 
 as I believe. She has no love for you. She never wishes to see 
 you again. Nor do I. You are nothing to her. She is notliini,' 
 to you. You have made your bed, and must lie on it. You 
 must blame yourself, and not me.' 
 
 With these words Lopez retired, leaving the unhappy Russell 
 in a condition that may be better imagined than described. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIT. 
 
 IN WHICH DOLORES REAPPEARS IN THE ACT OF MAKING A 
 
 RECONNOITRE. 
 
 Harry had already been set free, but Ashby was hold as a 
 prisoner. At first he remained in the room where Lopez hod 
 found him, along with the Carlist guard, but after a few hours 
 he was removed to another chamber. This was chiefly to 
 prevent any possible attempt at escape which Ashby might 
 make with the assistance of tb" other prisoners, who, knowing 
 the weak points of the castle, might be able, with a bold leader, 
 to strike an effective blow for liberty. 
 
 1 i 
 
A CASTLE AV SPALV. 
 
 217 
 
 is willing to run 
 Lliis roused Lopez 
 
 r OF MAKING A 
 
 rith a bold leader, 
 
 The moonbeams now were streaming in upon the stone floor 
 where the six Carlist prisoners wei'o lying. They w re sound 
 asleep, and their deep breathi igwas the only sound that might 
 be heard. Two of them were in the bed, the other four wore on 
 the floor. But these men were used to roughing it, and on the 
 flinty pavement they slept as soundly as on a bed of down. 
 
 Suddenly, in the neighbourhood of the cliimney, there was a 
 slight noise. No one in the room hoard it, for they were all 
 sleeping too soundly. The noise ceased for a time ; then it was 
 renewed. It was a rustling, sliding sound, as of some living 
 thing moving there. After this the noise ceased. There was 
 another long pause. Then came a whisper — * Asaehi P 
 
 No one heard. The sleepers were all far away in the land 
 of dreams. The wiisper was repeated : ' As.sebl P 
 
 There was no answer. Nor did any of the sleepers awake. 
 Out of such a sound sleep no';hing could awaken them that was 
 of the nature of a mere whisper. Of course this rooving body 
 was our friend Dolores. There is no need to make a mystery of 
 it. 8he alone now had access to this room ; she alone would 
 come here. She alone, having come here, would utter that one 
 word, ' Asid)\. f 
 
 It was Dolores. She had come back to this room to seek 
 after Ashby — to see him ; if not, then to hear of him, and, if 
 possible, to help him. j\fter assisting ' his Miijcsty' to elfcct 
 his royal escape, Dolores had thought for a few moments of 
 surrendering herself. After further thought, however, she had 
 concluded not to. She saw that nothing could be gained, and 
 much might be risked by such an act. The knowledge which 
 she had of all the interior of the castle gave her an immense 
 advantage so long as she was free ; and until she saw hoAV things 
 were it would be better for her to remain free. There would be 
 great danger in confiding too readily. She knew that the He- 
 publicans were no better than the Carlists, and perhaps these 
 were merely a rival band of the same ferocious marauders. 
 Ashby, being a foreigner, was perhaps in as great danger as ever ; 
 and if so, she should preserve her freedom, so as to be able to 
 help him. 
 
 This was a very sensible decision ; but as Dolores was a very 
 sensible girl, and a very brave one too, it was only natural that 
 she should have decided in this way. After waiting until the 
 noise in the castle had ceased, Dolores approached the room and 
 reached the place of descent. Here she waited and listened. 
 She heard the c^eep breathing of the sleepers. By this siie knew 
 that several men were now in the room. But was Ashby there ? 
 She could not tell. That he was not asleep she felt sure. He 
 would be expecting her, at any rate ; and that would serve to 
 keep him awake. She determined to try still further. So she 
 
2l8 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 I Mil 
 
 began, as cautiously as possible, to make the closcent. SIic 
 succeeded in doing this without awaking any of the sleepers. 
 For a while she stood in the deep, impenetrable shadow and 
 surveyed the apartment. She saw, where the moonbeams fell, 
 the outline of figures on the floor and on the bed. The remoter 
 parts of the chamber were hid in gloom. Then she called, in a 
 low and penetrating whisper, * Ant^cbi f 
 
 There was no answer. Dolores now felt sure that Ashby was 
 not there ; but in order to make assurance doubly sure, she 
 repeated the call. There was still no answer ; and now Dolores 
 felt certain that he had been taken away. 
 
 Once more she determined to satisfy herself as to the people 
 who were in the room. It was a hazardous thing to do, but it 
 had to be done. She must see. She had matches in her pocket. 
 She resolved to throw a little light on the subject. She struck 
 a match. The flame burst forth. Holding it above her head. 
 Dolores peered into the room. The flame illumined the whole 
 apartment. A second or two was enough to show her the 
 whole. There were six men. They were Carlists. They were 
 prisoners. Ashby had been taken away. 
 
 So much was plain enough. Ashby was not there. He had 
 been removed — but how ? That Avas the question, and a most 
 important one. Was he free, or was he still a prisoner ? This 
 must be ascertained before Dolores could decide anything. It 
 was not a question to be decided by mere c-^iijecture. It was 
 certainly possible that the captors of the castle, finding those 
 prisoners held captive by the Carlists, had released them all ; 
 and if so, it was all very well ; but Dolores knew the suspicions 
 nature of her countrymen, and felt very much inclined to donl)t 
 whether they had set the prisoners free upon the spot. They 
 were foreigners, and she knew that Spaniards of every party 
 would consider that a sufficient excuse for detaining them. 
 
 The only way in which she could satisfy her curiosity and 
 decide upon her own future course was by comraujsu .iting witli 
 these Carlist prisoners, and learning the truth froui tl onu But 
 how? They Avere sleeping so soundly that somes Im;^ louder 
 far than any ordinary cry would be needed to reach liioir ears. 
 To call to them would, therefore, be useless. Some other way 
 would have to be adopted, j But in what way ? That was tlie 
 question that Dolores had now to answer. There was only one 
 way. A risk must be run. It could not be helped. She would 
 have to rouse them, and the most effective way, as well as the 
 one most inaudible to those without, would be to venture into 
 the room and rouse them in some way by touch. A rapid view 
 of all the risks of the case made her resolve to encounter them. 
 She felt able to awake the sleepers without being discovered, and 
 quickly made up her mind. 
 
 I 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 19 
 
 descent. She 
 £ the sleepers. 
 shadow and 
 loonbeams fell. 
 The remoter 
 she called, in a 
 
 ,hat Ashbywas 
 nibly sure, she 
 id now Dolores 
 
 s to the people 
 ig to do, but it 
 ;s in her pocket, 
 ict. She struck 
 ,bove her head, 
 lined the whole 
 ) show her the 
 sts. They were 
 
 there. He had 
 tion, and a most 
 prisoner ? Tins 
 lo anything. It 
 jecture. It was 
 le, finding those 
 sased them all; 
 w the suspicions 
 nchned to doubt 
 the spot. Tlicy 
 of every party 
 ining them, 
 er curiosity and 
 muj I killing with 
 'lOTu tlom. But 
 ouieil'Mg louder 
 reach I'iioir cars. 
 Some other way 
 > That was the 
 ere was only one 
 ped. She Avould 
 Ly, as well as the 
 to venture into 
 .. A rapid view 
 encounter them, 
 g discovered, and 
 
 1 
 
 Gliding swiftly and noiselessly to the nearest sleeper, 
 Dolores caught his hair, and giving it a sudden, violent pull, she 
 darted back as quickly, before she could be discovered. 
 
 It was effectual. 
 
 The sleeper started up with a violent oath, and began abusing 
 his comrade. This one also awaked, and a fierce altercation 
 went on between them, wherein the one charged the other with 
 pulling his hair, and the other denied it with oaths. In the 
 midst of this Dohn'cs had ascended into the passage-way, and 
 stood there waiting for a chance to be hoard. At longtli the 
 noise subsided, and the two began to settle themselves for sleep, 
 when Dolores, seizing the opportunity, called out, in a low but 
 clear and distinct voice : 
 
 ' Viva el Rey !' 
 
 The Carlists heard it. 
 
 ' What's that ?' cried one. 
 
 * Some one's in the room,' cried the other, 
 
 ' Viva el Rey !' said Dolores once moiv, in the same tone. 
 At this the two men started to their feet. 
 ' "Who goes there ?' said one, in a low voice. 
 
 * A friend,' said Dolores. 
 
 'Where ?' asked the man, in surprise. 
 
 ' Come to the chimney,' said Dolores. 
 
 The two men went there, till they reached the fireplace, 
 
 ' Where are you ?' asked they. 
 
 Dolores did not think it necessary to tell them the truth just 
 yet. 
 
 ' I'm in the room above,' said she. ' I'm speaking through an 
 opening in the flue. I can help you, if you will be cautious and 
 patient.' 
 
 * Who are you ?' 
 
 ' A prisoner. I know the way out. I can help you. Be 
 cautious. Is the English prisoner with you ?' 
 
 ' No,' said the Carlist, wondering what sort of a prisoner this 
 could be, and why this prisoner asked after the Englishman. 
 
 Dolores questioned them further, and the men told all they 
 knew. They had overheard the words that had passec'. between 
 Ashby and Lopez, and told what they had heard. 
 
 From these Dolores gained new light upon the facts of the 
 case. Having been a witness to the scene in the station at 
 Madrid, she at once perceived that this enemy of Ashby's could 
 be no other than that man in civilian dress, but of military 
 aspect, with whom he had had the quarrel, who had been forced 
 to leave the carriage of the Russells. This man had travelled 
 in the same train. H'^ had been captured, plundered, and then 
 set free with the other Spaniards. Dolores conjectured that he 
 bad obtained some soldiers, surprised the castle, and freed 
 
aai 
 
 220 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 Katie. Slio also felt that Ashby was now a prisoner onco 
 more, in the hands not of a mere robber, but of his bittei;cfct 
 enemy. 
 
 Thus the whole truth flashed upon her mind. 
 
 But where Avas Ashby ? 
 
 That she could not tell as yet. She could only hope, and 
 make plans. 
 
 ' Can we come up to you ?' asked the Carlists. 
 
 * No,' said Dolores. ' Besides, there's no escape here. I can 
 come to you, and I will do so before long. Do not sleep too 
 soundly. Do not wake the others. Be ready to act wlicu 1 
 come.' 
 
 ' The men readily promised this. 
 
 * But why can't we go now ? Avhy can't you help us now V 
 they asketl. 
 
 * Wo can't go aAvay from this,' said Dolores, ' without tlic 
 English prisoner. But with him Ave shall surely escape ; so be 
 ready to act when I give the word.' 
 
 CLAPTER XLIII. 
 
 now KATIE FEELS DEJECTED, AND HOW LOPEZ FEELS 
 DISAPPOINTED. 
 
 TiiEiiE is no need to enlarge upon Katie's feelings, as she f^^at 
 in her lonely chamber, buried in thoughts which were botli 
 sweet and painful. We all knoAV perfectly well Avhat tlicy 
 must have been, for we all understand about that sort of tiling. 
 We've dreamed love's young dream, you and I, havon't Ave V and 
 so Ave'll let this pass. As for Katie, I'm afraid she must, in licr 
 short experience, from all appearances, have dreamed a great 
 many of love's young dreams ; but never among all her drcnms 
 or waking thoughts had she knoAvn a sadder or more sorrowful 
 hour tlian the present. Even her soul — volatile, buoyant, aiul 
 lively — found it impossible for a time to rally. She sat Avitli 
 clasped hands and boAved head, looking careAvorn, dejected, and 
 utterly miserable ; and it Avas in this state of mind that Lopez 
 found her on the following morning. 
 
 He felt again disappointed (in fact, Lopez was apparently 
 always feeling disappointed), though Avhy he should feel so is 
 someAvhat singular, since Katie Avould have been more than 
 human, or less, if she had shown a joyous face in such a situation, 
 
 Lopez gave a sigh by Avay of salutation. Katie did not look 
 up, but knoAV perfectly well Avho it Avas and Avhat he Avanted. 
 
 ' I hope you have found this room more comfortable than the 
 last,' he began at length, after the usual salutation. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALV. 
 
 22 [ 
 
 OPEZ FEELS 
 
 'I'm sure I don't seo what comfort one can expect in such a 
 place as this,' was the reply. 
 
 ' I'm sorry that I haven't anything better to offer,' said Lopez ; 
 ' anything that is in my power to grant I will do for you.' 
 
 'Those are merely idle words,' said Katie. 'There is one 
 thing, and one only, that I wish, and that you can give ; tliat 
 one thing you have no right to keep from me, and yet it is use- 
 less to ask you for it.' 
 
 ' Useless— oh, do not say that ! Tell nio what it is.' 
 
 ' My freedom,' said Katie earnestly. 
 
 ' Freedom!' said Lopez ; ' why, you are free — free as a bird !' 
 
 ' Yes, as a bird in a cage,' was the bitter reply. 
 
 ' Ladies must always bo under some restraint,' said Lopez ; 
 ' otherwise, you are perfectly free.' 
 
 ' This, sir/ said Katie hotly, 'I consider insult ; it is nothing 
 less than mockery at my distress. Is it freedom to bo locked 
 up in a cell and cut off ^rom all my friends ?' 
 
 Lopez gave a gasp. He was anxious to please Katie, yet this 
 was a bad, a very bad beginning. 
 
 ' Why,' said he, ' where can you go ?' 
 
 ' You will not even let me go about the castle,' said Katie. 
 ' If you barred your gates, and let me move about inside, even 
 then it would be imprisonment ; but you lock mo in this cell, 
 and then you come to mock me.' 
 
 ' Great Heaven !' said Lopez. ' Oh, senorita ! won't you un- 
 derstand ? Let me explain. This castle is full of rough, rudo 
 men. It would not bo safe for you to move about. They are 
 not trained servants ; they are brutal and fierce. If you went 
 among them you would be exposed to insult.' 
 , 'My attendant comes and goes,' said Katie ; ' she is not in- 
 sulted. Why may I not be at least as free as she is ?' 
 
 ' ]3ccause.' said Lopez, ' you are a lady ; she is only a common 
 woman. Things would be insults to you which she only laughs 
 at. I cannot allow you to expose yourself to the brutal ribaldry 
 of the ruffians below. If a father had his daughter here, ho 
 would lock her up, as I do you, out of affection.' 
 
 At this Katie turned her head away, with the air of one who 
 was utterly incredulous, and felt the usclcssness of argument. 
 
 Lopez was silent for a few moments. Then he went on. 
 
 ' Listen,' said he, ' and seo if you have reason to be angry with 
 me. Let me tell you some little of what I nave done. But for 
 me, you would still be a prisoner in the hands of a remorseless 
 villain, a common brigand. Listen to me, I entreat you, and 
 then tell me if you are right in blaming me. As soon as I was 
 freed I hurried on to Vittoria, the nearest military station. I 
 had but one idea — the rescue of you from the hands of those 
 villains. At Vittoria, after incredible effort, I succeeded in 
 
^H 
 
 T 
 
 ; 
 
 ^^H 
 
 
 '^' 
 
 Hi 
 
 
 i ' 
 
 ^H 
 
 
 i.' 
 
 m 
 
 1 
 
 i'' 
 
 V 
 
 222 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 getting a detachment of men from the commandant. With 
 these I set forth on the following morning, trying to find my 
 way to you. It was an almost impossible task. The country, 
 never thickly inhabited, was literally deserted. I could find no 
 one to ask, and could find no trace of your captors anywhere. 
 I did, however, what I could, and sought everywhere most pain- 
 fully and perseveringly. At length, just as I was beginning to 
 despair, chance — the merest chance — threw in my way a couple 
 of fugitives. These, fortunately, were able to give me the in- 
 formation I wanted. One of them knew all about this castle, 
 and knew that you were here. With this help I was able to 
 find my way here. And now I was once more favoured by the 
 merest chance. Had I tried to capture the place in a regular 
 fashion I should have been driven back, for this castle is im- 
 pregnable, except to artillery ; but my guide knew of a subter- 
 ranean passage-way, and guided me through this into the court- 
 yard. Once here, I found all the men in a careless condition, 
 and made a rush upon them before they could get their arms. 
 Over and over again I risked my life in the fight that followed, 
 while pressing forward in my eagerness to find you before they 
 could get you off. I found you at last. I was full of joy and 
 triumph at the thought of rescuing you from a loathsome cap- 
 tivity. Judge of my surprise and bitter disappointment when 
 I saw you so indifferent, vhen you met me so coolly ; and, 
 instead of showing gratitude, seemed rather angry at me than 
 otherwise.' 
 
 Lopez paused here to see the effect of his eloquent speech. 
 
 Katie looked up. 
 
 ' It was not captivity, as you call it,' said she ; ' and if it was, 
 it was not loathsome. That word, senor, is far more applicable 
 to my present condition.' 
 
 ' You don't know,' said Lopez. * You can't understand. You 
 must have been under some fatal misapprehension. Is it pos- 
 sible that you were ignorant of the character of your captor— a 
 mere brigand — one who pretends to be a Carlist, merely that 
 he may rob passengers, or capture them and hold them to ran- 
 som ? Have you been all this time in such ignorance ?' 
 
 ' No, seiior ; I knew in whose hands I had fallen— he is a man 
 of honour !' 
 
 ' A man of honour !' cried Lopez, in amazement. 
 
 * Senor, you cannot know yet who he is, I must tell you. lie 
 is the King of Spain — his Majesty King Charles !' 
 
 ' Don Carlos !' cried Lopez. 
 
 At this information he stood transfixed with amazement. 
 Nothing was more probable than that Don Carlos had been in 
 the castle, though he did not suppose that Don Carlos would 
 rob travellers or hold them to ransom. And then there came 
 
 M ' t 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 223 
 
 upon him the bitter thoughc of -ill that he had lost by the 
 escape of this distinguished por^onage. Had ho captured him, 
 lie would have been certain of immortal glory — of advancement, 
 of high command, honour, wealth, everything which a grateful 
 government could bestow. And all had slipped out of his hands 
 by the narrowest chance. The thought of that lost glory well- 
 nigh overcame him. 
 
 ' I didn't see him,' he groaned, as he stood clasping his hands 
 in an attitude of despair. ' He must have left before I came.' 
 ' lie left,' said Katie, ' while you were in the castle.' 
 'Ah !' said Lo^Dez, ' how do you know that ?' 
 ' Because,' said Katie, ' I saw him when he left,' 
 ' But you were in that room. How could he leave that 
 
 room 
 
 9' 
 
 ' I saw him when he left,' said Katie, ' that is all. You need 
 not believe me unless you wish, but it is true.' 
 Lopez had to believe her. 
 
 * And what is more,' said Katie, ' you will not remain here 
 long. He w^ill soon be back.' 
 
 * Pooh !' said Lopez, ' he can do nothing. He can't get in 
 here. This castle is impregnable to anything less than an 
 army.' _ . 
 
 ' But you got in.' 
 
 ' But I've guarded that passage so that others cannot,' said he. 
 
 ' Do you think,' said she, ' that there are no other secret pas- 
 sages than that ?' 
 
 Katie had drawn a bow at a venture. She knew from the 
 statements of Dolores that there were secret passages all about ; 
 but whether there were any others that ran out into the country 
 outside she did not know. Still, she thought she would try 
 the effect of this on Lopez. She was fully satisfied with the 
 result of her experiment. 
 
 Lopez started and stared. 
 
 ' Other secret passages !' he said. ' Do you know of any ?' 
 
 ' If I did I would not tell,' said Katie. 
 
 Lopez was much disturbed. He did not know but that there 
 really were other secret passages. The escape of ' his Majesty ' 
 seemed to point to this. He determined to institute a thorough 
 search. 
 
 'I'll find out every passage in the castle before evening,' 
 Mid he. 
 
 Katie smiled. She did not believe that he would find one, 
 Lopez felt nettled at her smile. 
 
 ' You don't believe I shall find them,' said he. ' If I don't 
 find them I shall conclude that they are not there.' 
 
 'A very safe conclusion !' said Katie. 
 
 Lopea felt angry. He had come hoping to make an impres- 
 
224 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 sion on Katie by telliuj,' her of his love and devotion. In this 
 he had been miserably disappointed. He had become angry 
 and excited. He was no longer in a fit mood to appeal to her 
 feelings, and he felt it. He therefore concluded that it would 
 be best to retire for the present, and come again after he had 
 grown calmer. 
 
 
 % 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 now LOPEZ HAS ANOTHER CONVERSATION WITH KATIE, AND 
 
 FEELS PUZZLED. 
 
 It was not much more than an hour afterward when Lopez paid 
 Katie a second visit. By that time he had overcome all his ex- 
 citement, and had settled upon a plan of action of a different 
 kind. It was of no use, he saw, to appeal to Katie's feelings, 
 and so he thought that he would try the effect of a little pressure 
 of a moral character. 
 
 * I hope you will pardon me/ said he, ' for troubling you again, 
 but it is necessary for us to understand one another, and I think 
 you do not see exactly how I am situated.' 
 
 At this Katie made no observation, but drew a long breath, 
 and leaned back with the air of a martyr. This was excessively 
 •aggravating to Lopez, but he managed to smother his irritation, 
 and proceeded : 
 
 ' Pardon me, seuorita, if I have to recall the past. I saw yon, 
 as you remember, some months ago for the first time, and found 
 you not unwilling to receive my attentions. From the first 
 moment of my acquaintance with you I loved you, and thought 
 that I had reason for hope. Lovers are always sanguine.' 
 
 * I can assure you, senor,' said Katie, * I do not see how you 
 could have found any reason to hope in this case.' 
 
 Lopez felt this rebuff very keenly, but kept his temper. 
 
 ' I was merely speaking of my own hopes,' said he mildly, 
 * and you certainly were far more amiable than you now are.' 
 
 ' I'm sure, senor, I should be sorry to be otherwise than 
 amiable, but sleepless nights and solitary confinement must 
 necessarily affect one's temper. I can only say I do not wish 
 to be rude.' 
 
 ' Pardon me — rude ? That is impossible,' said Lopez, grasping 
 eagerly at this as at some small concession. ' I only want you to 
 give me now a fair hearing. Let me say, once for all, that I 
 loved you then, and have loved you ever since, most devotedly.' 
 
 ' I suppose I have to listen,' said Katie, * as I am your prisoner; 
 but I will only hint that before speaking of love it might be as 
 well to set me free.' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 225 
 
 H KA.TIE, AND 
 
 Lopez drew a long breath. It was hard indeed for him to 
 keep down his anger. 
 
 ' Very well,' said he, taking no notice of her words. * In the 
 midst of ray hopea there came this English Ashby, and at once 
 I felt that I was pushed into the backgrouud. I bore my dia- 
 appoiutment as well as I could, and iu addition to this I put up 
 with things of which you never knew. That man had a most 
 iusolent manner. He was wealthy. He was purse-proutl, and 
 excited univeisal hate by his overbearing ways. There was 
 always the clink of gold in his voice, and even iu his step. I 
 have even received iusults from him.' 
 
 * Why did you put up with insults V asked Katie. * I thought 
 that no Spaniard ever allowed himself to be insulted.' 
 
 ' For your sake,' said Lopez, in a tender voice. * For your sake 
 I endured all.' 
 
 * For my sake ! I am at a loss to see why you should allow any 
 one to insult you for my sake.' 
 
 ' Ah ! there were many reasons why I had to be very, very 
 patient for your sake. In the first place, I saw that you preferred 
 him to me, and I feared that if I quarrelled with him you would 
 hate me ; and that would have been worse than death. Again, 
 if I had quarrelled with him, you woidd have been known as 
 the cause, and would have been talked about ; and in Spain it 
 is a great dishonour to a young lady to be talked about. But 
 do not suppose that I would have allowed him to insult me 
 with impunity. No ; a day was to come for a settlement, and 
 he knew it. When we left Madrid we had agreed upon a meet- 
 
 "ig 
 
 regard to a 
 
 ' I didn't know that,' said Katie carelessly. 
 
 Lopez was struck with this careless tone with 
 matter which affected the life of Ashby : for it was hardly 
 possible that Ashby could have come unharmed out of a mortal 
 combat, but he took no notice of it. 
 
 ' Such,' said he, * was the state of affairs up to the hour of our 
 journey. Then the train was stopped, and I moved heaven and 
 earth to follow you and effect your rescue, with what success you 
 perceive ; for here I am, and this castle is in my hands.' 
 
 ' I must protest,' said Katie, with much dignity, ' against your 
 using such a word as " rescue " with reference to me. I consider 
 that I have been seized and thrown into prison. I do not wish 
 to be unkind ; I merely say this in justice to myself, and also to 
 "his Majesty" the King, of whom I was merely the honoured 
 guest, with plenty of friends around me.* 
 
 At this Lopez was struck dumb with vexation. Never could 
 Katie be brought to look upon his really gallant and daring ex- 
 ploit in its proper light. And yet he could not disprove her 
 assertion. He did not know what had been her position here. 
 
 15 
 
226 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 If the King bad rciilly been bcro, it wan, after all, ([uitc pOHHible 
 that sbo bad been, as hIio said, an bonoiucd guest, 
 
 *" Ilia Miijc'Hty,'" Haiti Katie, in a calm and plioid tone, ' was 
 nicst attentive. Jle did bis ntnio.st to alleviate our dulneHs. Iju 
 paid us constant vis'ts, and asHured us over and over again, that 
 our stay uas to bo but sliort. Never bave 1 met witb one who 
 was more kind, more consi«lerate, and at the same time moiv 
 lively. Always laughing and cheerful, be seemed moro like sonic 
 well-known friend than the great king of a great country. Witii 
 us be forgot all the cares of bis situation, lie was gallant, clii- 
 valrous — moie, be was even pleased to be merry, and to indult,'o 
 in many little i)leasantries. And now you perceive, Sefior Ca[)- 
 tain, what the real cbauge in my situation has been. It has been 
 from sunshine to gloom ; from laughter to tears ; from bright ami 
 pleasant society to loneliness and despair.' 
 
 Tins was i)utting it strong — very strong indeed, and Lope/, ftlt 
 it in bis very soul, lie at once gave up any further elVorta in this 
 direction. Uo bad nothing more to oiler in answer to such ii 
 statement as this, lie felt it to be a fact that Katie bad been 
 ba])py before be came, and that she was now miserable. What- 
 ever the cause was, tbere was the unanswerable fact. 
 
 He now adopted a severe tone. 
 
 * You are aware, sefiora,' said be, * tbat when I captured this 
 castle there were several prisoners.' 
 
 Katie nodded. 
 
 ' I suppose so,' saiil she. * I don't know.' 
 
 * Very well. Among them was your dear friend * 
 
 * My dear friend ] Who? Not "his Majesty ]"' 
 
 Lopez laughed bitterly. ' How transparent that little trick 
 is,' he said to himself. 
 
 * By " your dear friend," ' said he, * I mean, of course, Mv. 
 Asbby.' 
 
 ' Mr. Ashby ! Ob !' said Katie. 
 
 To tell the truth, by this time Katie bad almost forgotten his 
 existence. She seemed to herself to have lived years since last 
 she spoke to Mr. Ashby. So she said, in an indifferent tone, 
 
 'Mr. Ashby? Oh!' 
 
 Lopez, of coui'se, thought this a part of her assumed indifference, 
 and smiled at his own penetration. He could see through liev 
 little arts ; and he knew something which would soon force her 
 to tear away her mask. 
 
 ' He is arrested as a spy,' said Lopez abruptly. 
 
 * A spy 1' said Katie ; * Mr. Ashby a spy ! Why, he hasn't been 
 a spy. I don't understand.' 
 
 * Whether he is one or not,' said Lopez harshly, * will soon 
 appear, as he wil' be tried by court-martial to-day. In times 
 like these no mercy is shown to spies. The country is swarming 
 
of course, !Mr. 
 
 A CASTfJ: AV SPALy, 217 
 
 with llicni. Thoy liiive a short trial, a (niick Htntoiico, ami a 
 Buminavy cxc^culioii.' 
 
 ' Still/ Haid Kat' , * r (h»ii't Bee how you can make out that 
 ^\v. Awhhy in a spy.' 
 
 Katio showed no horror at all, no cxcitcnicnt whatever, and 
 Lopt'/ was proportionally ania>ced. lie had n(»t ex|)eeted tliiM. 
 
 M can't tell,' Haid ho; ' the court-niaitial will deal with him. 
 I daro say he in a Hpy, and I fully expect tliat iu; will he shot.' 
 
 'Well/ .said Katie, ' \ dare say he must be. You Hceni to hato 
 liiin so, and you say he has insulted you, so you will take thm 
 way of beinj^ reven<j[ed. All the same, I shouldn't like to dc^al 
 tlial way witli my enemy. I'oor Mr. Ashhy ! It's vi^ry, very 
 Had ! Oh, what would " his Majesty" think, if he were to hear 
 this !' 
 
 Once more Lopez was strr.ck dumh. ITe had counted with 
 certainty ni)on |)r()ducin<^' a strong ellect on Katie. J»y holding 
 Aslihy's doom over her head, he hoped to inlhusnce her. ]}ut 
 this tremendous blow had fallen, and ha<l evidently not been 
 felt. For Ashby and for his fate Katie had nothing' but the most 
 connnonplacH! expressions of pity — no horror, no ^'rief, no despair, 
 nothing of the sort. 
 
 In fact, so com])letely overcome was TiOpez by this unexpected 
 result of his interview with Katie, that he left abruptly. 
 
 lie was full of wonder. ' Is it |K)ssible,' he thouj,dit, ' that this 
 is lier English stubbornness ? Can she have so nnich of that in- 
 fernal English stolidity .'is to be able to conceal so perfectly her 
 deepest feelings \ Impossible ! J^oes she love A.shby / She 
 cannot ! Does she love anybody \ No ! Can she love ? I don't 
 helieve it ! What a girl ! what a girl ! And she seems so gentle, 
 so timid, but in reality she's as bold as a lion, and as iierce as .a 
 she-tiger. By heavens ! she shall be mine, if she's the Evil One 
 himself, 
 
 ' And that poor fool Ashby thinks she loves him ! Bah ! she 
 cares no more for him than she does for me. The idiot ! This 
 is a sweeter vengeance for me than anything else. And, by 
 heavens ! he shall still be present at our marriage. For inarried 
 we shall be, in spite of Fate, even if 1 have to gain her consent 
 with the muzzle of my pistol against her brow.' 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 IN WHICH HARRY ASICS A FAVOUR, AND LOPEZ BEGINS TO SEE A 
 
 LITTLE LIGHT. 
 
 While Lopez was thus chafing and fuming, he was accosted by 
 Harry Harry's position was peculiar, and not particularly 
 enviable. He had been informed that he was a free man, and 
 
 IS— 2 
 
228 
 
 I (wsrri: ix siwfx. 
 
 iiiiistor of Ills own iK'lioiiH. Lopr/. Iiiul iioUiiii^' ni^iiiiiHl Iniii.iiinl 
 1\V tliJH tinio li.'id for^'(tH(>ii <'V(Mi liiH(<xisl(*nc(». Artier liiHdcIivrr. 
 iiiico, llart'y luul ;n>iii> iiinniiin<; ulioiit, siiircMl at l>y nil in IIk* 
 ('!istl<\ iiniil ill ItMi^ili lie liixi rallcii jiHlcrp. 
 
 In <lu< ni<)ininj( lio iiuido a >,M'('ii(, discovery. TliiHWUH tlio fad 
 <Iiat liis rifrduin (o j^'o waH ^l^<(>l(<sH,alld tliai lio was Hiill a priHonrr 
 luTo a piisniKT, l,litMij;li a volmilary ont; a piisuncr Itoiind In 
 this place l>_v hoiids Htroiigci* than iron niaiiach'.s or walls nf 
 slono. 'I'lic^c Id'iidH were (Ik! fccIiiiffH wliicli lia<l slarlcd ii|) 
 wiiliin liini iuiforo lio was awaic, and now ludd liini I'aHL ticil lo 
 Kalio. He awoko <o feel lliai, liis pr<>Hcnt friu'ddni was far ic^s 
 Hwc'cl llian liis lal(^ <'Mpiivil_v -that dcli'^dd fid captivity witli its 
 Btolcn interviews, and llu>swoet tli()nf,dds of lier who was so iiciir. 
 
 And where was she now? lie had Hcen nothini,' of lur. 
 Had she lied ? IJnl how, and why, and where would hIio havo 
 iled from him V Had fAw Keen captured V Unl why? WIid 
 •would capture hei'V Net wheio was she V Tlnvso wore llm 
 (picstions that came throuf^injif njion him to vox his kouI and 
 destroy his peace ; so that it was for tlio purpose of fnidinf^ out 
 Fomethin^ definite about her that ho had souj^ht out Lojie/, 
 
 Ho looked pale and ,'aj{itated. Jiopey;, preocuMipiod thou},di lio 
 was. cotdd not help noticiutj (his, and ho thouj^ht that llinry 
 must he sulVei'inj^' I mm anxiety ahont h" frimid Ashhy, TIiIh, 
 liowovor, ho inunediately found, from ' v's lirst ((uostioii, to 
 bo a groat mistake, llarry was far f» ... .-.uspcctinj^ the stiilo 
 of mind in which fioiicz was — how full of lovo and jealousy ;.iiil 
 suspicion ; how at that very moment ho was oai^^or to penetiato 
 into tlio secret of Katie's heart. In fact, llarry suspected 
 nothing at all, and so Avas not at all on liis guard, bnt bbnicd 
 ont all his feelings. 
 
 ' Captain Lopez,' lie began, * did yon sco a young English 
 lady hero last night—a Miss Wcstlotorn?' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Lopez. 
 
 * Did yon ? Is she— Did — Is— is — is she in — in the casllo':'' 
 Btammered llarry, in distress and deep agitation. 
 
 There was not one expression on Harry's face nor one tremor 
 in his faltering voice that was not instantly marked by Lupoz. 
 There seemed in this to l)e some clue to the mystery. 
 
 * !She is in the castle,' said Lopez. 
 
 * AVhere — when — where T said Harry excitedly. ' I've been 
 looking for her everywhere. I've gone over the whole castle. I 
 Lope she isn't hnrt ! Is she safo ? Did she fall into the liunds 
 of the soldiers T 
 
 ' She fell into my hands,' said Lopez bluntly. 
 Harry fastened on him a look of devouring anxiety, i 
 
 * Did you — is she — what did — when — that is — is she safe ?' 
 ' She is safe,' said Lopez. 
 
A (wsrr.r. /x s/m/.v. 
 
 229 
 
 — in tho ciisUo?' 
 
 Harry <lro-.v a !oii;j IhchIIi 
 
 • Yon H«!(\' H.'iid li(\ willi (I lillitt tnnrn cotiip't/^iirc, ' F liiivc WW, 
 
 allMOlIM lllndll- ImT. I ll!lV(! ImM-II WDII'icMl, yull K II' »\V, !Ull I I llHVO 
 
 fi'lt HiixioiiH hIkmiL Iht III lacf, yoii know, I liavo I'olL jiiixioim 
 nliniil, lirr.' 
 
 ' SIk) Im k('|»l, (Mil (tf I III! \v;iy jiihI ikiw,' n;ii<l lin|ic/,, ' 011 jcdoiinl, 
 of tilt) I'ioL ill ili(! cuntlc, ami (lio (head wo liavo <A' an attack. I 
 don'l caio al>n:it hil.liiif^ tlio iimmi kimw hIio is lioro.' 
 
 Ilany drew a l>i»!atli ot ruliut'. 
 
 ' I'm ^dad,' lio hai«l. 
 
 AiioMkm' Hif^li fnlldwod. Tlicii Ii(i lookfid wiHlTnlly al, ?i(»i»»^/. 
 
 ' Would it lu) too iiiiK'li til iisk if I \v(!i() to ask il' you 
 would proKoiit nio- to-to pay my lo.spuct.s to her, a.s an old 
 f lio lid ?' 
 
 ' Impossildo, soiior,' said lidpo/,. ' Slio is with tlio wouioii ; 
 you couldn't vi.sit licr. \n\\ will l»t! ablo to pay yrtui* rcspiMls to 
 lior nl'tDi' hIio reailies Vittorja, or Komo other pla'o cd' Karoty. 
 Until thon it in impoHsildo. As i'or youi'solf, I liop(> you ai'(! 
 coiiirortahio ; and whoiuivor you wish to ^'o you may go.' 
 
 Harry .sif,du'd, and Ktoiid as ono in a driiam. 
 
 ' 1 think,' Kaid ho, ' I hIkiII not go— just yot. I'cihaps T may 
 wait till tho rost aro goin ' 
 
 Miood-inorning, sciior, said L<ip(!z, walking away. 
 
 Harry Htood rootod to tho spot. 
 
 Ah li()pi!/i walked oil", ho Colt that ho liarl got hold of somn- 
 thing whi<'h might bo nsod against Katio. ' Anolli(;r' — ho said 
 tohiiusoll' — 'another poor foid who has heeomo inl'atuated, liko 
 iiiysolJ" ; but now tho power in mine, ami I will use it. Yes ; 
 ])crliaps she hersell' may i'eel toward tliiw man something of what 
 1 I'eol toward hor. Ji" mo— if so I'll drag tho secret out of her. 
 JJiit, by heaven ! that jjoor fool is standing there yet. 'I'here's 
 a iih'ul h»ver for you ! JIa, lia ! Is ho any worse than I have 
 bt'oii V Let mo sec. Suppose 1 liad been taken [)risoii';r as ho 
 has been, shut up with her in a castio, then freed ; would I not 
 long to SCO hor? Would not liberty bo useless without hor? 
 That man can't Icavo his prison-house. Sho is hero— she is 
 here ; that's enough. Yet what is slio to him ? Is not tliis man 
 Ashby's friend ? I saw them meet at tho hotel in Hurgos as 1 
 watched Ashby. They greeted like brothers, and went off t*^- 
 getlier for tho night. And he — why, ho has fallen in love with 
 his friend's betrothed ! liis friend's — ha, ha ! — betrothed — ha, ha! 
 — and, by Jove ! why not? That girl could make a saint fall 
 in love with her. That girl — why, sho oughtn't to bo allowed 
 to go at largo, and theroforo I've shut her up ; and shut up sho 
 shall be for tho remainder of her days, like a good Spanish wife. 
 But I must have a few more words with my moonstruck 
 lover.' 
 
230 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 With these thoughts Lopez sauntered back to where Harry 
 was standing, fixed upon the spot where he had left him. 
 
 ' Pardon, sefior,' said he, ' but it seems to me that you take a 
 deep interest in the Fofiorita. May I ask if she ivS a relative V 
 In that case some allowance might be made : she might not 
 object to see a relative.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said Harry eagerly, his whole face gleaming with joy, 
 * she will never object to see ?«e. Ask her ; ask her. She will 
 be delighted to see me.* 
 
 At this there were two distinct feelings struggling for the 
 mastery in the breast of the Spaniard ; one was exultation at 
 the ready way in which Harry had fallen into his trap ; the 
 other was one of jealousy at Harry's easy confidence. He harl 
 never felt such confidence at finding a welcome reception from 
 Katie. However, he was now on the right track, and he deter- 
 mined to follow it up. 
 
 ' Are you a relative of the lady's ?' he asked. 
 
 * Well no— not exactly a relative,' said Harry. 
 
 * Ah ! perhaps a connection by marriage ?' 
 
 ' Well, no — not exactly a connection, either ' 
 
 ' Well, you see, sefior, in Spain etiquette is very strict, and 
 our ladies are under more restraint than Avith you. I must treat 
 this lady in accordance with xny OAvn feelings, ar.d a Spaiii;-;!i 
 gentleman would feel as if he were slighting a lady if he wcie 
 to act out of accordance with Spanish etiquette.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said Harry earnestly, ' she is an English lady.' 
 
 ' But I am a Spanish gentleman.' 
 
 Harry drew a long breath. He v/as in despair. Oh, how he 
 longed to be Katie's third cousin for a few minutes ! 
 
 ' I am very sorry,' said Lopez ; ' but you see I have to be 
 guided by my own sense of propriety. I suppose you are a very 
 old friend, senor ; yet I have been quite intimate with the 
 senorita myself, and never heard her mention your name.' 
 
 * Well,' said Harry, ' I have not known her very long.' 
 
 ' She used to speak freely of all her English friends,' continued 
 Lopez ; ' for you see she had not many, having lived so long in 
 Spain ; and so I was surprised to hear you speak of her as so 
 intimate a friend.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Harry, ' my acquaintance with her is not of verij 
 long standing.' 
 
 ' You were not acquainted with her at Madrid ?' said 
 Lopez. 
 
 ' No,' said Harry dreamily. 
 
 * Nor at Cadiz ?' continued Lopez. 
 ' No —not Cadiz.' 
 
 * Then, sefior, you could only have made her acquaintance on 
 this journey,' said Lopez, with a smile, which was not merely 
 
 lilii', 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 231 
 
 where Harry 
 
 ft liitn. 
 
 lat you take a 
 
 is a relative V 
 ihe might not 
 
 ling with joy, 
 her. She Avill 
 
 ogling for tho 
 exultation at 
 his trap ; the 
 ence. He had 
 reception from 
 , and he detcr- 
 
 put on for a purpose. He felt like smiUng, so successful had 
 he been in getting at the truth. 
 
 Karry looked confused. 
 
 ' Well, you see, seFior, in captivity, or on a journcj', people are 
 very much thrown together, and they make friendships very fast.' 
 
 ' Oh yes,' said Lopez, • I understand. In short, it amounts to 
 this, that one day of such intercourse, so free, so unconventional, 
 is equal to a whole year, or even a whole lifetime, of the formal 
 intercourse of ordinary social life. Well, sefior, I am sorry. 
 I came back thinking that you might be some near relative 
 or connection. My own ideas and habits do not allow me to 
 permit what you ask ; but the senorita will be her own mistress 
 in time, and then of course she can see whom she chooses.' 
 
 And now, for a second time, Lopez walked away, thinking 
 that he understood all. ' Another victim,' he thought. ' And in 
 two or three days : in that time she has turned his head. And 
 does she return his passion ? Is she as indifferent to him as she 
 is to me, and to Ashby ? I will soon find out.' 
 
 very strict, aiul 
 1. I must treat 
 and a Spanish 
 lady if he were 
 
 lady.' 
 
 ir. Oh, how he 
 ites ! 
 
 e I have to be 
 e you are a very 
 imate with the 
 3ur name.' 
 r?/long.' 
 ends,' continued 
 lived so long in 
 leak of her as so 
 
 3r is not of vcnj 
 
 Madrid?' said 
 
 acquaintance 011 
 was not merely 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 IN WHICH LOPEZ MAKES A FRESH ASSAULT, AND KATIE 
 BEBAKS DOWN UTTERLY. 
 
 Once more Lopez ctilled upon Katie ; it was about two hours? 
 after his last call. This was his third call in one day. She looked 
 surprised and also vexed. 
 
 ' A little matter has occurred to me,' said he, * which I thought 
 I would mention to you, as it ought to be of some concern to 
 you.' 
 
 ' Ah !' said Katie languidly, as Lopez paused. She seemed to 
 be more indifferent, if possible, than ever ; more self-absorbed, 
 and more bored with his society. 
 
 ' It's about a certain Mr. Eivers,' continued Lopez. 
 
 It 'vas not without very careful premeditation that Lopez had 
 entered upon this interview, and the result of his thoughts was 
 that he had decided upon introducing this matter in the most 
 abrupt manner possible. But in all his speculations as to the 
 possible effect of this new scheme, he had never imagined any- 
 thing like the reality as he now witnessed it. 
 
 At the mention of that name Katie's manner changed instantly 
 and utterly. From Jauguor, from indifference, and from bore- 
 dom, she started up erect with wild excitement and terrified 
 interest. In her face there was a perfect anguish of fear and 
 apprehension. Her eyes starea upon him in utter horror ; she 
 gasped for breath, and it was not until some time that she could 
 articulate a few words. 
 
232 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 i 
 
 * Mr.— Mr.— Elvers !' she gasped. ' Did you say— Mr. 
 Elvers V 
 
 However amazed Lopez was at Katie's iutensityof excitement, 
 he made no reference to it, and answered in a quiet and matter- 
 of-fact tone. 
 
 * He said he was acquainted with you, and wanted to see yon.' 
 
 * To see me? Mr. Eivers?' said Katie, still agitated. *Aud 
 can — can he — will he — will you let him ? Did you consent ]' 
 
 ' Well,' said Lopez, * you see, there wei'e reasons ' 
 
 * Eeasons !' repeated Katie, all tremulously, and in dire sus- 
 pense — ' reasons !' She waited his reply breathlessly. The 
 thought of Harry being in the power of Lopez, of the hate and 
 malignant vengeance which Lopez might pour forth upon Lis 
 devoted head, had all occurred to her at once at the mention of 
 his name, and still overwhelmed her. 
 
 * In Spain, you know,' said Lopez, ' there is not such freedom 
 of social intercourse between young unmarried ladies and gentle- 
 men as in Ejigland, and I did not think that you would feel like 
 violating our Spanish etiquette.' 
 
 * Spanish etiquette !' cried Katie, with nervous eagerness ; 
 * oh, that is nothing. Tell him he may come — he may conic ; 
 tell him he may come— I shall be most happy to see him — I shall 
 be so glad to see him ! I shall — oh, I shall — be — I shall be— oh 
 yes, glad to see him !' 
 
 Katie was struggling with intense feeling. Her feelings carried 
 her away completely. Lopez saw this plainly, and felt, as he had 
 felt in Ashby's case, partly triumphant exultation, partly the 
 bitterest jealousy. But he had a careful guard over every exhi- 
 bition of his own feelings. And yet, in the midst of his exulta- 
 tion, his jealousy, and his efforts at self-control, he marvelled 
 greatly at the intensity of feeling displayed by this girl, whom 
 he had believed to be so immovable. And for whom ? — for au 
 acquaintance of three days' standing. 
 
 ' Oh, but you see,' said he, * there is something else to prevent, 
 unfortunately.' 
 
 * Something else !' repeated Katie, in a low, trembling voice ; 
 ' Ri>d unfortunately ! Did you say mifortunatdy V 
 
 * i said unfortunately^ said Lopez. ' You see— I forgot to 
 mention it before, as I did not know that you were acquainted 
 with him — but this Eivers has been arrested as a spy.' 
 
 This was, of course, untrue ; but Lopez was merely trying au 
 experiment on Katie. 
 
 The experiment was fearfully successful. 
 
 In an instant all that Lopez had said at their last interview 
 about the fate of spies rushed to her mind. Ashby's fate she had 
 regarded with mild pity, but the fate of Eivers seemed to crush 
 her down into the dust. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 233 
 
 She clutched the arm of Lopez convulsively with both her 
 bauds ; she raised up her face, white with horror ; she gasped 
 for breath. 
 
 ' Oh, sefior ! oh, sefior !' she cried ; ' what is it that you mean ? 
 A spy ! Harry a spy, and arrested ! Oh, you cannot mean it ! 
 Say that you do not mean it ! Oh, say it— say it !' 
 
 She could say no more. Her grasp loosened. She fell back, 
 and, burying her face in her hands, burst into a passion of tears. 
 Sobs convulsed that slender frame. Lopez sat with a bitter smile 
 regarding her. 
 
 ' You seem to value the life of this Rivers,' said he at length, 
 after a long silence. 
 
 Katie lifted her face, and regarded him with eyes all red and 
 swollen. 
 
 * His life !' she exclaimed, with a shudder — ' his life ! Ah, 
 that is it ! And I see in your face that there is— no — hope. Oh, 
 Harry ! oh, Harry, Harry !' 
 
 Her voice died away in a low shudder. Lopez himself was 
 moved. He had not been in the least prepared for such an utter 
 breakdown as this. Ah ! now he saw that Katie could love, 
 and how she could love ! At the force of that love all else passed 
 away — pride, shame, hate, all ; everything was forgotten except 
 that name, upon which her voice dwelt with such longing. 
 
 ' Yes,' he said, * he is a spy. He is now being tried, or rather, 
 he has been tried — for I may as well tell it — and has been con- 
 demned. I need say no more about it ; I have already said 
 enough. You know the fate of a condemned spy. Before 
 another hour all will be over.' 
 
 At first Katie seemed about to faint, but the last sentence 
 rou'-.ed her. She started np, and again seized his arm with her 
 convulsive grasp. With white, tremulous lips, she said, in a low 
 voice which had sunk to a whisper : 
 
 ' An hour ! an hour ! Did you say — another hour V 
 
 Lopez bowed his head in silence. 
 
 * But you — you—yoii,' said Katie fiercely — ' you do not believe 
 him guilty V 
 
 ' I have nothing to do with it,' said Lopez coldly. 
 
 ' Nothing to do ? Are you not commander here V 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Can you do nothing ]' she asked again. 
 
 'No. The trial is over. His fate has already been decided ; 
 in another hour all will be over.' 
 
 The repetition of these words roused Katie to a fresh outburst 
 of despairing grief. 
 
 ' Oh !' said she ; * in so short a time ! so short !' 
 
 ' It was because he was so near his doom,' continued Lopez, * that 
 the condemned prisoner requested to see you, and I thought I would 
 
^}\ 
 
 A (\isrr./: /x spa/x. 
 
 m 
 
 incnlion il. ]\:u\ i( iinl Ikm-ii for (Iiis i('(Hu>H(,lir MoiiM liMVc liccn 
 hIioI wi(lio»i( yowr Kiiowinjr it.' 
 
 K.itie wnni^' her IihikIs, in ;i hlind pMSHion of dcRpnir. 
 
 'Oh !' hIm' buiNt forth, 'soincthiiijj: iiniHi ))(> (lono ! Wo h]\:\\\ 
 not tlit'! ||(> nmst iiotl Oh, hi'iwciiM ! how cjiii I live, .'iiid 
 ihink of ill H;uTy ! llMiryl wan there im» ojm' to Hpoak I'dr 
 you/ A s/\)/ / Its f;vls(^ ! Il(> MMH a Himpio traveller. (»li, 
 Captain liopez, there nuiHt bo some way of savinj^f him, or ,il 
 least of ileferring his Wooni, C'an it not bo put otV — for (iii(> 
 (lay /' 
 
 'That would bo of no avail,' said fjope/. 
 
 ' One d.iy !' plead(>d Katie, in ea,<;er tones/ 
 
 ' It's useless,' said bojuv, ; * it's inipo.s."iibio. The sontonco of tlio 
 court eannot bo revok(>d.' 
 
 ' l>ut tinu> Hies I Oh, (*apta,iii Lopez, can you not let him <,'() {' 
 
 ' Oh yea,' said liopo/. ' I ean do tluit, easily onou^di. I eoiild 
 lot him out. so thai ho eould oseajjo.' 
 
 At this K.'itio fell on her knees, and clasped tho hands of Tjupc/, 
 
 'Oh, (^'ijitain Lope/, I kneel to you ! I pra,y to you ! On my 
 knees 1 pray for his life ! Lot him tly ! ()h, lot him fly ! Oli, I 
 pray - 1 i>ray on my knoos !' 
 
 Jiopo/. ilrow !i long breath. This seon(> was t(>rriblo to him in 
 many ways ; but, above all, it was terrible to see what, love m.is 
 thus lavished on this comparative strani^or, when ho would risk 
 his life, and had risked his life, for a, sitigle smile. 
 
 ''^riiink,' said ho, ' what it is that you ask. 'I'ho moment J lot 
 him go, that moment 1 myself am a criminal, I myself am coii- 
 denmod. I nuist tly — I' must become a. ruined man ! b'niiicd I 
 Worse ; dishont)ured, disgraced, in my native land ; I who have 
 had high ambitions, ;vnd have won no mean distinctions. And 
 vet do you ask this of me V 
 
 K;itio bowed her head <lowji ; she kisscil his hamls, ami in 
 ircnnilous tones said : 
 
 ' Oh, I nnist-^-T nmst ! l do 1' 
 
 Lo[)c/ was trembling from head to foot, llo himself could 
 now scarcely speak from agitation. 
 
 'And may !,' ho said, in a low voice — 'may T — ask iiotliiii!,' 
 from you — wliou J give up— hom)ur, life, hope, all — for your 
 sake /'■ 
 
 There was a suggestivencss in this (picstion which flashed ;it 
 once in all its fullest moaning into Katie's mind. She dioppcd 
 his hands ; she sank upon tho floor ; she bowed hor head treiu- 
 blingly and despairingly. 
 
 Lopez looked at her with an agitation equal to hor own, and ;i 
 despair only less. She loved another — she could never love him ; 
 she loved another — oh, how vehenieutly, how dearly she loved 
 lum ! Yet she must be his ! 
 
oiiM lt;»V(> linii 
 
 sentence of 1 Ik 
 
 y\ CIS 77./: /X ,S7M/,V. 
 
 ^'^S 
 
 'Olio hour w.MH iiil(t\V(<<l liim,' iminMurtMl hnpr/, 'mir Iikiii I(» 
 |»r('|»iire. Miicli <»f (liiil, lioiii' Ikih filrcjiily mmhhciI. S;iy, will yoii 
 b;ivc IiIm life / .'iiid h1i;iII I hcI, liiiii ficf I S.iy, hIimII I uo jo ruin / 
 Siiy, will yun !^mv(> iip •,« uMich (i>\- uw .'i.t I ;iiii n';i<ly lo ;^ivu ii|> 
 fury«Mi / (^)iii<'k ;tn(il,lM>r mirinU>, ;ui<l it in.iy he tcjo lido !' 
 
 K.'iiic Ht;ii(('i| lip wiMly. 
 
 '({<»! ^ro !' hIu! Hiiitl, ill .'I, hot, f(<v(<riHli wliiH|»('r. * IliiHtc My - 
 H.'IVC liiiii I' 
 
 * \'on promiHo T hmIiI lidpcz. 
 
 'Oil, my (!o(l ! ycH !' ciioil Kiitic, .'iikI fell mciihcIchm l.otlic floor. 
 
 'Sco 1(» your iiiiHlrcsH,' H.'iid li(»p('/, in m, fullering' voire, us he 
 went oiilHJdr .'iihI nu'i lJi(> .'itlcii(l;iii(, Ijicrc. 
 
 Tlii'ii Ijopcz went !iw;iy, iiol, lo IVf(> Ihiny, for lie w;im iilie.idy 
 free, liiit lo ii l(»iM>|y room, wlicro lie lliiiii,' liiiiiKell' on his hieo on 
 lli(* Hfoiiy lloor, ,-1,11(1 l;iy there loiii,', wee|»in^r like ji chiM. 
 
 Kor the .'I'^'ony (»f Ihis miin ;il, winiiiii;r Katiis iliiis was efpial to 
 thai of Katio over' her act of Helf-Ha(;ii(ice. 
 
 is hamls, ami in 
 
 Ic himself ooul 
 
 (![rAi»TF;ii XLvrr. 
 
 IN WHICH TiOi'K// isr,H IIIM ai>va\ta(;k io tfip, T:rrr^.iiMf>HT, 
 
 AND KA'rrK MINKS INi'ci IX'.ICI'KIl IHIFJ-A 11!. 
 
 Anm ho liopo/i had resolved to fj^ratiPy hoth his love and his ven- 
 ^oaiico. Ho was determined .'it all ha/.ards to Corcc! Katie to ho 
 liis wife ; and at thi! Haine time he would l>(> al)le, to trike a 
 Hweot and most cfVeotive i'(!verij^f(! oil the haled Ashhy. As for 
 this now lover, Uivors, who hail so nii(!Xpe<',todly started up, the 
 (Icc-ision was more difhciilt. I To felt no liatu toward him, Jis h«5 
 ilid toward Aslihy. Jlc! had I'ociiived no ii. Its at his hands. 
 There was in Harry's manner none of that oiitraj^eons sii|)c.r- 
 (•ili(»iisiiess whieli had made Asliby so d(!testaMe. The I'acc! of 
 Rivers was of itsolC ono whi(;h coiieiliated all, and his character 
 Avas visible in his frank, free and easy manners. With sncli a 
 mail it was almost impossible to cpiarrel'; still, the jealousy of 
 Lopez had been roused at the discovery of Katie's love for 
 Rivers, and for this ho felt a reiiMitment. Ho d(;i(;rmiried, 
 tlicrefore, to include that youn<,' man in his plans, and thoiii^dit 
 that the sim[)leHt and most olVoctivo mod(! of doalinjf with him 
 would ho to invito him als«) to tho weddinj^. Tims both tho 
 lovers should see with their own eyes tho end of this affair. 
 Aslihj'^ should Koo it, Rivers also should seo it. I'lio [)iosp(!ct 
 was a delightful ono, and did much toward restoring liopez to 
 his equanimity. 
 
 ' Aha !', ho said to liimsclf, as ho reached this conclusion — 
 'aha, my tender, cooing doves ! how will you like that ?' 
 
 Anothor.thought, which gavo him almost Cfjual delight, was 
 that of tho revenge which ho would be able to take on Russell. 
 
m 
 
 236 
 
 I CASm: L\ SPALX. 
 
 UuRPoU Imd slivrod up liis (liM^j)osi li;il(\ Ilo li;i<l insni((Ml liim 
 at Madrid, .'iiul liad piii :i sto)) t<i his iitUiiitioiis to K:iti(\ Ilo 
 lifid |)nl)Iifly ox])olled him i'roiu ilio railway carriajjin. Mad Ik; 
 l)coii Katio's failicr, Ti<>])0/, would liavo loli roscnirnl oiioii^rli, 
 and would liavo found it hard io foif^ivo ; hul. aw ho was nicivly 
 u guardian, and as Kalio had no alViu^lion for him, lio wa.s niidcr 
 no oonsiraint whaiovor, and could gratify his rcvongo without any 
 Inndranco. It was to him a most delightful chauoo whi('h li.nj 
 thrown llussoll in his way under hucIi poculiar and ridiculoii.s 
 relations to Uita ; and to take advantage of this Avas a li.'i|i|)y 
 thought, which Idled him with suidi exultation that foratinio 
 lie almost lost sight of the darker and more disheartening side 
 of this a (fair. 
 
 That darker side was the aversion wliich Katie had eviiicoil 
 toward liimself. She had shown it. It was not merely her lnvo 
 for Uivers ; it was something like rei>ugnanco to himself wliidi, 
 had hcen evident at their lirst meeting. The juncture wliich 
 he considered nu>st favouralde to hiu hopes had evidently liouii 
 most unfavourable. 1 Fe had hoj)ed to be received as a delivcrii' ; 
 ho had only been viewed as a ca[»tor, ller face, her exprcssiim, 
 her tears, her agony, were all present evermore to his meuuuv. 
 Jle must sec her soon, lie nnist ])ress on this marriai;!) ;il 
 once. Delay would only be worse. His situation here w.is pro- 
 carious. If ho were to linger too long, the Carlists might iidly, 
 and he would be besieged. l5efore that coidd ha|)pcn he must 
 have Katio for his wife, and then retreat as fast as i)ossil)lo. 
 He could not defer the marriage till they reached Vittoria, for 
 then Katie would surely elude him and clfect her escape. Ho 
 concluded that he must bo married on the following day at llic 
 farthest, and in the morning. To postpone it any longer was 
 not to be thought of. 
 
 That evening he visited Katie once more. As he entered iiiid 
 looked at her, he was struck to the heart to see the change that 
 had come over her. She was i)alc, thin, and haggard. !>1il' 
 looked up hastily, Avith staring eyes. Then she started u]) ami 
 looked, but said nothing. But Lopez reflected that all this was 
 the result of a love for another, and at that thought his pity 
 passed away, lie would go on with his Avork, he thought. Ho 
 would not be defeated by uureasonablo whims and violent yet 
 fitful gusts of passion. 
 ' He is safe !' said Lopci:. 
 
 Katio clasped her bauds. Her voico now returned, and, cast- 
 ing up her eyes, she ejaculated in low tones : 
 
 * Oh, thank Heaven I — but where — where — lias he gone ?' 
 Lopez shook his head. 
 
 ' Not yet,' said ho ; ' nor can ho go — till your promise is ful- 
 filled.' 
 
 lUPi 
 
A CASTT.H IN SPA/X. 
 
 237 
 
 K.'itio Hliiuldorcd. 
 
 ' [h thoro— in tlicro — no otlior way ?' slionHkod tronmlouHly. 
 
 *N<),' said liopry;. 'And tlio proiniHO imiHt l)0 J'nllillod Koon.' 
 
 'Soon!' said Kaiio, witli wliito lips, 
 
 ' 1 will explain,' said Lopo/,. 'I am in danj^'or lioro iti niatiy 
 ways — {nieniios all around. Tlio moment that Hi vers is reU-asod 
 I ;iin a ruined num. I too must lly ; I)ut you must accompany 
 mo. So the nu)nuMit that Ilivoi'H is froo you must he minu. Our 
 jiiarriago must take plaeo at on<;o.' 
 
 ' At oneo I' criod Kati(!, with a lof)k of liorroi'. ' (Mi luiavenH !' 
 
 IiO])oz drew a deep breath, 'riiis aversion of Katiu toward 
 jiiiiisclf was horrible. 
 
 ' Or else,' (U)ntinued Lopez, *in the event of your leCusal ' 
 
 'AVhatV whatV 
 
 * Rivers is a prisoner yet. lie has been reprieved — that is all. 
 The court did not decide.* 
 
 ' A ])risoncr — yet I' repeated Katie. 
 
 ' He cannot f,n),' said Ijopez, ' till wo are married.' 
 
 'Oh heavens !' 
 
 'Till then ho is in tho greatest possible peril ; till tlicn ho in 
 only safe by tho most violent exercise of arbitrary iUi'hority on 
 my part. Some of my followei's are int(!nsely (sxcitei ; all aro 
 iiuitinous ; they clamour for his death. They look ai me with 
 sinister faces and low muttered execrations. Witli these fierce, 
 impliicablo spirits how can he bo safe? J am not safe myself. 
 The moment I set him free J dare not remain beliind. [cannot 
 go -I will not go — witliout you. His lifo depends on you. My 
 men cannot bo long restrained. I myself have luid to t(di tliem 
 that it is only for twenty-four hours.' 
 
 'Oh heavens !' cried Katie, in oven deeper anguish. 
 
 ' Before that time is np ho must go — yes, long before — so as 
 to be well on his journey, out of reach of these fierce enemies. 
 I must go soon after ho does. I cannot go alone — T cannot give 
 up everything. If I givo up ambition lor your sake, it is only 
 fair that I should satisfy my love.' 
 
 ' Love !' cried Katie. 'Oh ! Lovo 1 How can you talk of love !* 
 
 ' Love !' said Lopez bitterly. ' No ono ever felt it so painfully 
 asL' 
 
 Katie was silent. She turned away, wringing her hands. 
 
 ' Do you wish his lifo ?' 
 
 ' His life '? Oh heavens ! am I not ready to lay down my life 
 for him ?' 
 
 * Lay down your life 1' rcpfcvated Lopez. * That is not wanted. 
 No ! You have yet a long lifo to live in love and happiness.' 
 
 'Never!' said Katie vehemently. ' There is no love or h?ppi- 
 ness in life now for me. I love him— I love him, and him only! 
 Oh, how I lovo him !' 
 
238 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ' 
 
 Lopez gave a sneerinj? laugh. 
 
 ' Pardon me, you are too facile in your loves, sefiorita, to talk 
 in that strain. You love so easily that you will 'probably havo 
 many love-affairs in your happy future. You loved Ashby, and 
 in a day or two you declare yourself ready to die for Rivers !' 
 
 This was a bitter taunt, but Katie's distress was so deep tiiat 
 she did not feel it. 
 
 ' Oh, I never know love before !' said she. ' I thought I loved 
 Mr. Ashby ; but I was mistaken— I never loved him. It was 
 nothing — I was inexperienced — I didn't understand — I didn't 
 know. But I know now. Oh, I know all now — all !' 
 
 Lopez felt rather pleased at Katie's declaration about Ashby. 
 He did not believe her altogether. He believed th"*^^ she had 
 loved him, but had forgotten him while flirting witu another. 
 If she had forgotten Ashby so readily, she would also forget 
 Rivers with equal readiness, and say quite as boldly that slie 
 had never loved Rivers. This passion was a sudden whim— it 
 was no more than a dream ; she was hardly in her right mind, 
 she was infatuated. Of course she would get over it. And he 
 determined to use his advantages to the utmost. So he returned 
 to the subject. 
 
 ' You see,' said he, ' as long as Rivers is here, he is subject to 
 the most deadly peril. He is even now in danger. Do you wish 
 to save him r' 
 
 ' Oh heavens !' cried Katie. ' I do ! I do !' 
 
 * Well, then, you must do as I have said.' 
 Katie moaned. 
 
 'Will you?' 
 
 ' Oh, let me wait ! I'll promise anything — everything ; but, 
 for Heaven's sake, let me wait — only a little, little time ! Oh, 
 seuor, on my knees I fall — I pray, as I would pray to Heaven, 
 give me time — time — time ! only a little — only a very, very little !' 
 
 Katie knelt ; she put her palms together ; she looked up, as 
 in prayer, to this mighty tyrant who held over her such power. 
 Lopez could not endure this sight : it filled him with tender 
 pity, with grief, with remorse. He began to yield. 
 
 Instinctively he bent down and took her in his arms. He was 
 about to grant her everything. He was about to tell her, with 
 tears, that he would grant her years, if she would only promise 
 to try to love him. But Katie misunderstood his action. The 
 touch of his arms was enough — it was too much ! She tore 
 herself away, and stood shuddering and weeping. Lopez felt 
 that gesture of loathing and aversion cut like a knife to his in- 
 most being. At once all tenderness, all pity, departed. He 
 determined to have no more of this trifling. 
 
 * Listen !' said he coldly. ' By saving Rivers I destroy myself. 
 You must be my wife. I must then fly— do you hear ?— fly 
 
 ll 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALX. 
 
 539 
 
 norita, to talk 
 probably liavo 
 ed Ashby, and 
 for llivers !' 
 IS so deep that 
 
 hougbt I loved 
 [ him. It was 
 tand— I didn't 
 
 -alir 
 
 1 about Asliby. 
 i tb"'^' she had 
 r Willi another, 
 iild also forget 
 boldly that she 
 iidden whim— it 
 her right mind, 
 iver it. And he 
 So he returned 
 
 he is subject to 
 sr. Do you wish 
 
 verything ; but, 
 ttle time! Oh, 
 pray to Heaven, 
 ^ery, very little!' 
 le looked up, as 
 her such power. 
 him with tender 
 ield. 
 
 s arms. He was 
 to tell her, with 
 luld only promise 
 his action. The 
 nuch ! Sbe tore 
 ling. Lopez felt 
 a knife to his in- 
 departed. He 
 
 I destroy myself. 
 you hear?— fly 
 
 from Spain, from my country, from all I have loved : I must bo 
 a;^ exile. This is all for you. Think of all that I give up for 
 you ! I cannot postpone. If I postpone, my people will kill 
 Rivers and myself too. The life of Rivers depends on you 
 alone.' 
 
 Katie said not a word. She was helpless. 
 
 ' To-morrow, early,' said Lopez, ' you must bo mine. Rivers 
 shall be then set free.' 
 
 Without waiting for any further words, Lopez bade her adieu, 
 and retired. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVm. 
 
 now LOPEZ GOES TO SEE THE PRIEST ABOUT IIIS MAPvPJACiE. 
 
 After leaving Katie, Lopez decided to give notice to the priest 
 about the nature of the ceremony that was to be performed, and 
 also to appoint the time for its porformance on the following 
 
 morning. 
 
 As he entered the room, Talbot saw in his face the 
 
 sign of some important purpose. At once she divined it. She 
 had already made up her mind as to what that service would be 
 that Lopez expected of her, and what her own action should be. 
 Brooke also, in spite of his plausible arguments, was afraid that 
 she was only too near the truth, and such terrors gathered 
 around the prospect that he could not think of it. But now all 
 suspense was at an end. The truth was about to be made 
 known, and, whatever it was, they would have to face it. 
 
 'Seiior,' said Lopez, addressing himself to Brooke, yet 
 courteously including Talbot in his glance, ' I have now come 
 to tell you why I have required thus far the company of your 
 friend the priest, and you may explain to him what I have to 
 say. Is is for a very simple and pleasing ceremony — namely, a 
 
 marriage. 
 
 'A marriage !' repeated Brooke in a low voice. 
 
 That word, sometimes so full of joyous meaning and so sur- 
 rounded with associations of mirth and festivity, now rang in 
 Brooke's ears with a sound as harsh and terrible as that of a 
 death-knell. It was the word which he dreaded more than all 
 others to hear from the lips of Lopez. His heart sank within 
 bim, and he knew not what to think, or where to turn for hope. 
 That Talbot would refuse to perform this ceremony he felt 
 convinced, but what would be the consequences of such a 
 refusal under such circumstances ? 
 
 'The priest,' continued Lopez, who had not noticed any 
 j difEereuce in Brooke's manner, and was not at all ar^'are of the 
 : intense agitation which now pervaded all his frame — ' the priest 
 
►40 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 England or 
 
 but it is 
 
 ■will be ready to perform the ceremony at an early hour to. 
 morrow morning.* 
 
 * To-morrow morning !' repeated Brooke mechanically. 
 Worse and worse ! This man was hurrying matters so that 
 
 ho did not leave any time for thought, much less for action. 
 To-morrow morninj,', at an early hour ! Oh, terrible haste ! 
 01), fearful fliylit of time ! "Was there, then, so short a limo 
 until this new ordeal, with its new dangers ? Brooke shuddeixHl. 
 A sudden thought now came to him, at which he gra.si)e(l 
 eagerly. It was utterly useless, and he knew it, but it was all 
 that ho had to ofl'cr against this man's rciolution. 
 'Can the priest ofTiciatc without the government license?' 
 ' Government license !' repeated Lopez. ' Of course. The 
 Church does not ask permission of the State to perform tlie 
 solemn sacraments. What has the State to do with the acts of 
 a priest of the Church ?' 
 
 * Oh, I don't know,' said Brooke dejectedly ; ' it's different in 
 other countries.' 
 
 ' Spain,' said Lopez severely — ' Spain is a Christian country.' 
 
 * True — true ; I forgot,' said Brooke. 
 ' In an infidel country,' continued Lopez, ' like 
 
 America, the State regulates marriage, of course 
 different in Sp"in — very different.' 
 
 Brooke scarcely heard this. He was groping about mentally 
 in search of an idea. Another one came— a hopeless one, like 
 the last— but he caught at it, since there was nothing else to do. 
 
 * This priest,' said he, ' is an Englishman.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Lopez, with a slight expression of surprise. 
 
 ' I didn't know but that it might make some difference,' said 
 Brooke meekly. 
 
 ' Difference ! How ?' 
 
 ' Not — not knowing your language, you know.' 
 
 ' My language,' said Lopez ; ' what does that matter ? He has 
 the language of the Church, and that language every priest uses 
 in the formulas and services of the Church, whether he is a 
 Spaniard, or an Englishman, or an African negro. He cele- 
 brates the sacraments in the words laid down by the Chmcli. 
 and the languages of the various nations have nothing to do 
 with these holy rites. I fear, seiior, you are raising objections 
 which will seem as strange and unreasonable to your friend, this 
 good priest, as they do to me.' 
 
 At this Brooke was struck dumb. He had nothing more to say. 
 
 ' You will tell your friend,' said Lopez, ' to be ready at an I 
 early hour to-morrow morning. I also will do myself the 
 honour, senor, to invite you to give ub the pleasure of your j 
 company on this occasion.' 
 
 Brooke bowed, and murmured something about the conscious- 1 
 
A CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 241 
 
 early hour to- 
 
 lanically. 
 matters so that 
 
 \es8 for action. 
 
 terrible haste! 
 'so short a time 
 rooko shuthlfHoa. 
 hich ho gvasi.ed 
 it, but it was all 
 
 on. ,, , 
 
 ment license .^ 
 
 Of course. Hic 
 
 a to perform the 
 
 with the acts of 
 
 ; ' it's different in 
 
 Jhristian country.' 
 
 ' like England or 
 'course; but it is 
 
 .ing about mentally 
 
 1 hopeless one, like 
 " nothing else to do. 
 
 ,n of surprise. 
 )me difference,' said 
 
 ;at''iiatter?.IIchas 
 ige every priest uses 
 •oh, ^vhether he IS a 
 Ln negro, iie ceie 
 o.vn by the ClnivcK 
 have nothing to do 
 •e raising obiectio" 
 to your friend, this 
 
 I nothing more to say. 
 I'to be ready at a 
 
 Liii do m^f^^l 
 
 \e pleasure of 5 our 
 [about the conscious- 
 
 nc.'is which he had of the honour th.it Lope/, had done him ; and 
 in the midst of those commonplaces Lopez rotiiod. 
 
 After hia departure Brooke remained silent for a lon<? time. 
 Talbot feared the worst, and as she had divined already the 
 meaning of this visit, she understood perfectly the feelin^M of 
 Biot)ko. So she said not a word, bnt patiently waited until ho 
 chose to speak. At length ho told her all. 
 
 * I thought .so,' said Talbot. 
 
 ' What will yon do ?' asked Brooke iu a low voice. 
 
 ' Nothing,' said Talbot simply. 
 
 'Nothing?' repeated Brooke. 
 
 ' What can I do ?' 
 
 'Can you not do what he requests?' asked Brooke, iu a 
 trembling voii 0. 
 
 ' What ! and marry them ?' 
 
 ' Why not ?' 
 
 ' It is impossible !' said Talbot firmly. 
 
 ' Oh heavens !' moaned Brooke, in a tone of despair. 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke, do not talk like that !' said Talbot entreatingly. 
 ' Have I not already said all that can be said ?' 
 
 'Well,' said Brooke, 'listen to reason for a moment. Only 
 think what marriage is. It is a union of two loving hearts. In 
 Scotland people marry themselves. Why cannot you do in Spain 
 what you might safely do in Scotland ?' 
 
 'Yes,' said Talbot, 'and in Turkey a man may marry a 
 hundred wives. Why may not you do in Spain what you may 
 safely do in Turkey ? Oh, Brooke ! Brooke ! Are you alto- 
 gether candid now, and true to your better self ? Do not tempt 
 me, Brooke. Do not try to shake me. My mind i.s clear on 
 this point. I cannot do wrong, not even to please you, Brooke.' 
 
 As Talbot said this she looked at Brooke with a glance that 
 penetrated to his soul. Her eyes showed unfathomable tender- 
 ness and devotion, yet her face and her voice told of a resolve 
 that was immutable. 
 
 Then Brooke tried another tone. 
 
 ' Confound these Spaniards !' he cried. ' Talbot ! Talbot ! 
 Come, why not many this couple of cursed fools and have done 
 \vith it ?' 
 
 Of these words Talbot took no notice whatever. She was 
 silent for a time and thoughtful. Then she went on to speak : 
 
 ' I know. I begin, I think, to understand all about it. The 
 girl ho means to marry is this English girl, the daughter of Mrs. 
 lliissell. Captain Lopez loved ^er, as we were told. He has 
 followed her here, and effected her deliverance from her Cavlist 
 captors, and now, as a matter of course, she feels grateful to 
 him, and is willing to marry him. But how can I do anything? 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 ilego. 
 
 It in frightful hin. No 
 
 I 
 
 I cannot. It is liorriblu s;i' 
 yi'\\\ tell him the whole truth.' 
 
 Brooke looked at her with a face of anguish. 
 
 * Oh, Talbot.' said he, ' if you do, what will bccomo of you ?' 
 ' What V paid Talbot, in a firm voice. 
 
 ' lie will kill you— and worse than that,' said Brooke. 
 
 * Why should ho kill mo ?' said Talbot. ' It will do him no 
 good. What cause will he have to kill me V* 
 
 *I have thought it all over,' said Brooke— 'all over a thousaml 
 times. I have speculated as to the possible result of a frank 
 disclosure, and I've come to the conclusion that it is better to 
 run every risk in this disguise, and go even to the verge of death, 
 rather than divulge your secret now.' 
 
 'Divulge my secret!' said Talbot, in surprise. 'And why 
 not ? What is there to divulge ? I have only to say that I \\\\\ 
 not a priest — I am an English lady, who have assumed this dis- 
 guise as a safeguard.' 
 
 Brooke sighed. 
 
 'It's too late, too late ! Oh, fool that I was — cursed, cnrscil 
 fool ! But I was afraid to trust those Republicans ; I fcuix"! 
 that they might harm you if they knew you io be a woman. It 
 was for your sake that I kept your secret, and now it has turned 
 out to be the very worst thing that I could have done.' 
 
 ' I deny that it was the worst,' said Talbot calmly. ' Thus 
 far it has protected mo most effectively. As for the future, Vtc 
 have yet to choose our plans.' 
 
 * Too late !' said Brooke. 
 ' I do not think so,' said Talbot. * You do not givT any reasonj:. 
 
 At any rate I will try — 
 
 ' Do not 1 do not !' said Brooke earnestly. ' It is too late. I 
 will tell you. You see, this deception has gone on so long, ami 
 his trust in you is so profound, that the shock would be more 
 than he could bear. As a priest you have won his confidence, 
 even his reverence. If you now tell him that it was all a cheat. 
 his wrath would burst forth beyond all bounds. He would cou- 
 sider it an outrage on his holiest and most generous feelin^^ 
 He would believe that you had wantonly trifled Avith all tliat is 
 most sacred and most sensitive in the heart. Then there 
 more than this. For some reason he is bent on marrying this 
 girl. If you refuse now, and tell him the truth, it will only in- 
 tenf-ify his resentment against you, and turn it into a vengeful 
 fury. There is no pain that he will not inflict. There will Ijo 
 nothing too horrible for his revenge, lie will say that you de- 
 ceived and cheated him unnecessarily and persistently ; that 
 even if there was a necessity for it in the 'first place, you ]jii!,'lit 
 at least have confided in Lim after ho had shown him^clf so 
 merciful to me. He will say that you must have found him ou; 
 
A CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 J43 
 
 If 111 hill. >'o •• I 
 
 ijccomo of you ?' 
 
 id Brooke. 
 
 It will do hiiu u(j 
 
 ill over a tliousana 
 3 result (»f iv i"i":^"'< 
 hat it is better to 
 the verge of death, 
 
 I'priso. 'An«l ^vl,y 
 ily to say that I am 
 ■0 af-sumed tins dis- 
 
 ^ras— cursed, cnvscl 
 publicaus ; I fciui. 1 
 ::o be a woman. It 
 id now it lias turnal 
 have done.' 
 bot calmly. 'Thus 
 .a for the future, \;c 
 
 aotgiv^any reasoiij. 
 
 ' It is too late. 1 
 ■gone on so long, and 
 Piock would be more 
 s won his confulciice, 
 lat it was all a cbc;it, 
 (nds. He would cou- 
 kt generous feeling;^' 
 frifled with all that is 
 leart. Then therein 
 ]nt on marrying tins 
 truth, it will only "i- 
 irn it into a vengetul | 
 iflict. There will be i 
 ill say that you de- 
 d persistently ; tajt 
 irst place, you uni^M 
 id shown himselt so 
 have found him out 
 
 to be a chivalrous gciiLloiu.'ui, in whoso protection you wouhl 
 have been safe, and this maintenance of your disguise all this 
 time and up to the last moment was a mockery and a sham. 
 And therefore,' concluded Brooke, 'every other resource ought 
 lirst to bo tried, and this should not be made use of till all others 
 have failed. It will be useless at any time ; but if it is made 
 use of at all, it ought to bo last of all.' 
 
 ' Well, I don't know,' said Talbot doubtfully. ' I will do as 
 you say, Brooke ; but to {^'o on in this way, and keep up this 
 disguise till the last, seems vo mo to involve certain destruction. 
 I suppose ho cannot bo persuaded to postpone the marriage V 
 Brooke shook his head despondingly. 
 
 ' Xo,' said he, * that is impossible. There is some strong reason 
 for this haste. Ho has, perhaps, extorted some promise from 
 the girl. Perhaps she does not love him. Perhaps he is afraid 
 if ho gives her time that she will back out of it, and is dctor- 
 mined to marry her while he has the chance.' 
 
 ' If that is the case,' said Talbot, ' it only makes it worse for 
 me. If she does not love him, and all this is as you say, there 
 is another and a stronger reason for my refusal to have anything 
 to do with such sacrilege and sin.' 
 
 ' Oh, Talbot !' said Brooke. He turned his face toward her. 
 It was a face of agony ; there was despair in his look. ' Oh, 
 Talbot ! I could bear this trial, any trial for myself ; but for 
 you — for you, Talbot,' he continued, in thrilling tones — ' for 
 you I cannot bear it. Think ! Can you not do something ?' 
 
 Talbot trembled. Her eyes filled with tears. For a time sho 
 stood thus with quivering lips and trembling hands, struggling 
 with her emotion, and without much success. When she was 
 able at last to speak it was in tremulous, broken tones. 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke !' she said, ' for your sake I would do anything, 
 anything ; but I cannot, even for your sake, do wrong to others. 
 For you — if it were myself alone that were concerned — I might 
 be tempted to do an act of sacrilege— or sin. Ask me to sulfer 
 for you, Brooke, and I will suller : oh, how gladly ! Yes, 
 Brooke,' she continued, in a voice that sent a thrill through all 
 his being — ' yes, Brooke, ask me to die for you, or let the chance 
 arise in which I may die to save you, and I will die. But do 
 not look at me so, Brooke ! do not look at me so ! Your face 
 is full of despair ; your look is the look of one whose heart is 
 breaking ; and this, Brooke, this seems worse than death ! Bo 
 yourself, Brooke ! rouse yourself ! Cannot you take refuge in 
 some other thoughts ? The very worst of your songs might 
 rouse you now. Sing, Brooke — sing anything. Talk nonsense, 
 and save your heart and mine from breaking !' 
 Brooke tui'ned away, and walked up and down for a few 
 
 minutes, while he struggled to regain his 
 
 composure. 
 i6 — 2 
 
 Tho 
 
244 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 sLnigglo was a severe one, l)iit he siicceetlod in assuming an out- 
 ward calm. lie at length returned, and, placing himself before 
 Talbot, gave that short laugh of his, and said, with some of his 
 old rattle : 
 
 ' Well, Talbot lad, you're more than half right. An-l, as I've 
 always said, there's nothing like a good song — and I've '.ots of 
 good songs ; but as you suggest a bad song — in fact, the worst 
 of all my songs — why, I dare say it wouldn't be a bad idea to 
 sing it. By-the-bye, Talbot, you ought to learn to sing — at least, 
 to hum tunes. I'll teach you how to Avhistle, if you like. I 
 wonder if this Spanish cur likes music. I'll sing you a song, if 
 you like, and I'll bet ten cents you never heard it before.' 
 
 And Brooke sang, to a most extraordinary tunc, these most 
 extraordinary words : 
 
 • " Oh, a raggedy gang to Iho piper dauccd, 
 
 Of tatterdoraulions all, 
 Till llie corpulent butler drove them off 
 
 Ueyond the manor wall. 
 The raggedy piper shook his fist : 
 
 "A luinstrd's curse on thee, 
 Thou lubberly, duck-legg'd son of a gun, 
 
 For scttin' dorgs on we 1" ' 
 
 ' Brooke,' said Talbot, with her usual calm, sad face, ' I'm 
 glad that you are singing, though your song is certainly slightly 
 vulgar.' 
 
 ' Oh, I know it,' said Brooke ; ' but then vulgarity is some- 
 times a ^ ery good thing. It don't do for people to be too fas- 
 tidious. The fact is, this age is over-refined, and I'm bound to 
 reform it, or perish.' 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 HOW LOPl Z INVITES HARRY TO HIS WEDDING, AND HOW HAKEY 
 
 MAKE8 A DISTURBANCE. 
 
 On tiKi following day the prisoners were roused at dawn. First 
 of all, Ashby was taken to the room in which the marriage cere- 
 mony was to be performed, which was the same room where 
 the llussell party had been confined. Half a dozen soldiers came 
 for him, and went through the solemn mockery of treating him 
 as an invited guest. He had scarcely arrived here when Harry 
 also reached the place. A special invitation from Lopez to be 
 present at a wedding had attracted him, and filled him with 
 wonder and curiosity. His anxiety about Katie, and his Ionising 
 to see her, were as strong as ever, and the effect of these feeliugs 
 was manifest, in his pale face and agitated manner ; but his desire 
 to please Lopez and retain his good-wil.' had drawn him here to 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 suraing an ont- 
 ; himself before 
 '\i\\ some of liis 
 
 fc. Ati'l, as I've 
 inJ I've '.CIS of 
 
 fact, the worst 
 )e a bad idea to 
 to sing— at least, 
 
 if you like. I 
 ig you a song, if 
 
 it before.' 
 ,une, these most 
 
 a, 
 
 if 
 
 un, 
 
 m, sad face, ' I'm 
 certainly slightly 
 
 ailgavity is somc- 
 ple to be too f as- 
 and I'm bound to 
 
 245 
 
 AND now HAllRY 
 
 d at dawn. Fii'^t 
 the marriage core- 
 same room where 
 ozen soldiers came 
 ry of treating him 
 here when Harry 
 from Lopez to ^^ 
 id filled him with 
 ;ie, and his longing 
 2t of these feeliugs 
 .uer ; but his desire 
 drawn him here to 
 
 he a spoctator, though his abstracted air showed that liis thouglits 
 were elsewhere. Thus, silent and jireoccupied, Harry stood apart ; 
 and Ashby, mindful of their recent liostilo n-neting, kept to him- 
 self, and made no motion toward holding any communication 
 whatever. 
 
 As they stood thus, a tliird comer appeared upon the scone. 
 
 This was llussoll. He still wore liis woman's dress, having a 
 vague idea that it might prove of service in some new attempt to 
 escape, though quite unable to imagine any way in which such 
 escape could be possible. Harry, attracted by this singular figure, 
 looked at liim, and recognised liim at once, and the efiect upon 
 him was so strong that, in spite of his melancholy, he biu'st into 
 a roar of laughter. 
 
 Russell, at this, tlirew toward him a piteous look of appeal, 
 and then approached him, in search after sympathy. The two 
 were soon engaged in conversation, while Ashby, whom this 
 ludicrous figure had very ' icibly atFected, stood aloof, watching 
 him with a smile on his faeo, which lie was unable to repress. 
 
 The unhap])y llussell, full of horror at the prospectyjefore 
 him, still clung to some vague and undefined hopes that at the 
 very last moment some chance might intervene to prevent the 
 terrible tragedy of a marriage with Rita. The appearance of 
 Harry seemed a good omen. He hailed it as such ; and had an 
 angel appeared, the sight cou'd scarcely have atforded more joy 
 to the virtuous Russell than that which he felt at the sight of 
 Harry. 
 
 AVhile these two were conversing, Brooke appeared, followed 
 by Talbot. Harry's back was turned to the door, so that he did 
 not see Talbot, and Talbot did not see his face. But even if 
 Harry's face had been full .before her, she would not have seen 
 it. \\'ith a slow step, a face pale as marble, and eyes fixed on 
 the floor, deep in thoughts which were far, far removed from this 
 room and its surroundings, Talbot entered, following Brooke, 
 who was as blind to the assembled company and as deeply pre- 
 occupied as herself. Before each there was a terrible ordeal. 
 As for Talbot, she was to be the central figure, and liow could 
 she perform her part \ For Talbot it was a simple matte)- to 
 sum up the whole situation. She couhl either consent or.^^refuse. 
 But for Brooke there was a harder task. It was for him to try 
 to discover some way of saving a friend, whom to save was an 
 imi)ossibility. And so all that Talbot snllered was likewise 
 siiil'ered by Brooke, who, in adtlition, liad his own peculiar 
 sniferings to bear, while Talbot, in ailditiou to her own sufl'cr- 
 ings, was afflicted still more by the full knowledge of all that 
 Brooke was undergoing. 
 
 AVhile Harry was talking with Russell he threw a casual 
 glance around, and caught the outline of Talbot's figure. He 
 

 246 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 saw — what \ Only the priest, as he thought. It was enough 
 for him. A mere priest was a profoundly uninteresting per- 
 sonage. His eyes saw no deeper than the external dress, and he 
 went on talking with Eussell. 
 
 Two or three more soldiers now came in, until at length there 
 were about a dozen. All the other soldiers were outside. At any 
 otlier time this unusual ceremony would have attracted a few 
 idle gazers ; but just now all the rest of the men were intent 
 upon the important business of breakfast, which was just being 
 ladled out to each from a huge caldron. 
 
 Now Rita entered, and with her came Katie, leaning feebly on 
 her arm. 
 
 Lopez followed. 
 
 At the sight of these two women Eussell and Harry stopped 
 their conversation abruptly. For each one the sight was an over- 
 whelming sensation. To Russell it was as though his last honv 
 had come. Here was his persecutor, his tormentor, who was 
 resolved to marry him whether he would or not. He had con- 
 fided his griefs to Harr}', but had been unable to obtain from 
 him any satisfactory advice. "What should he do ? He could not 
 say ; he could not even think. Could he dare to say ' No,' when 
 Lopez and Rita and the priest and all the soldiers expected 'Yes' j 
 Could he face the awful result of disobedience to Lopez, of defiance 
 to Rita \ His whole nature shrank back in terror from the thought, 
 and prompted him, in this dire emergency, of two evils to choose 
 the least. 
 
 To Harry, also, the sight of Katie was equally overwhelming. 
 He was struck dumb. He stood rooted to the spot, while wonder, 
 suspicion, and fear all struggled together within him. 
 
 What was the meaning of all this ] A marriage ? — a marriafi;e 
 of this Spanish captain ? With whom ? Who was the bride \ 
 What was Katie doing here ? And why was Katie coming here 
 in such a manner, with downcast eyes, death-pale face, and 
 drooping, trembling figure, scarce able to walk, and leaning so 
 heavily u))on the arm of this Spanish woman ? Such were the 
 questions which Harry, in his bewilderment, asked himself and 
 could not answer. To see Katie thus was like the stroke of a 
 thunder-bolt, and he was dumb with wonder. She came with no 
 word, no smile, no look for him ; she came like a helpless victim 
 destined for the sacrifice. 
 
 Ashby also saw all of this ! He had felt already the extremest 
 bitterness towards Katie, yet the sight of her now was powerful 
 enough to awaken within him the deepest pity. What was the 
 meaning of this \ Was Katie the bride \ Was she about to 
 marry Lopez \ Was this the revenge which Lopez had planned \ 
 It was manifestly so ; and yet why had Katie consented / He 
 could not understand it. It seemed like a fresh proof of her 
 
A CATTLE TN SPAIN. 
 
 247 
 
 frivolity and falsity ; and at anch an exlr'^ition he felt bewildered. 
 She had been false to him for the sake of Eivera ; was she also 
 false to Rivers for the sake of Lopez ? 
 
 And yet, in spite of snch thoughts as these, Ashby was full of 
 pity for her. He could not help it. And justly so ; for hard 
 indeed must that heart have been which could have I'emained 
 unmoved at such a sight. Never was a bride seen more despair- 
 in;:,'. There was agony in her face, and in her attitude, and in her 
 gestures. It was not a bride that he saw ; it was a victim. It 
 was an altar of sacrifice upon which Katie was to be offered up — 
 not an altar of love. 
 
 A id thus Ashby, like Harry, stood overwhelmed at this unex- 
 pO( U'd sight, 
 
 ifn'vfelt an almost irrepressible impulse to spring forward 
 and gi t her, but something there was in her look which deterred 
 hini. it was her face of despair, her attitude oi: utter weakness 
 and prostration, her downcast eyes, her averted look. Ho could 
 not move ; he was petrified. Tliere came over him something 
 like a feeling of horror. He shuddered at the sight. All his 
 thoughts and all his soul were fixed on her, while he kept asking 
 himself, Wliat is this \ What does it mean ? A mai*riage ? And 
 is this the bride — Katie ]' 
 
 Meanwhile Lopez had taken up a position at the upper end of 
 the room, and, looking around with a sarcastic smile, he began to 
 make a few remarks : 
 
 ' Senors,' said he, ' I have done myself the honour of requesting 
 your company on this occasion, so as to have your presence on 
 the happiest moment of my life, on the joyful moment when I 
 am to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony to one whom I 
 have long loved, and whom I have at last won by rescuing her 
 from a fearful peril. I shall expect your warmest cougratula- 
 tions , but however warm they may be, they cannot be adequate 
 to the occasion +hat calls them forth.' 
 
 At this speeci Harry stood transfixed. Then his whole nature 
 and aspect changed instantly and utterly. His face grew death- 
 white, there glowed a burning spot on each cheek, and his eyes, 
 as he stared at Lopez, blazed with the fury of a madman. 
 
 * Sefior,' said he feverishly and in a loud voice, ' who is the 
 ladyr 
 
 Lopez smiled scornfully, and took Katie's cold hand in his. 
 
 ' Tliis,' said he, ' is the lady — my chosen bride.' 
 
 Scarce was the action done, scai'ce were the words spoken, when 
 Harry's hand, quick as lightning, had plunged into his breast 
 pocket and snatched forth a revolver. In an instant it was 
 levelled. Lopez saw the act, and with rapitl presence of mind 
 ilvopped Katie's hand and flung himself flat on the floor. 
 
 At the same instant two shots in immediate succession came 
 
^i^^HiBn 
 
 248 
 
 A CAS TLB IN SPAIN. 
 
 from Harry's revolver. In another instaut Lopez was on his 
 feet, and had bounded against his assaihint. A fierce struj»gle 
 followed. Harry hurled Lojjez to the lloor ; but the soldier.s 
 rusheil up, and those without, hearing the noise, hurried in. All 
 was the wildest confusion, in the midst of which was Harry 
 struggling like a wild beast with overpowering numbers. Jle 
 was at length held fast by the fierce soldiers, who wished to kill 
 him on the spot, but were restrained by Lopez. 
 
 It's nothing at all. 
 
 It's all a 
 
 * Tie hi" hands behind him,' he cried, in a loud voice, ' aiul 
 leave him here. Don't hurt him. 
 mistake.' 
 
 But ap'^dst the crowd of those who rushed upon Harry, Katie, 
 with a wild scream, had fluug herself ; and as they now retreated 
 't the command of their leader, she caught her prostrate lover in 
 ner arms, and fainted. Lopez dragged her away rudely. Harry, 
 with his hands tied behind him, rose up and looked all arouiul 
 in despair. 
 
 Amidst that wild uproar, Talbot had been roused from hor 
 deep abstraction. She looked up, and as the struggle subsitled 
 she saw rising full before her out of the crowd of combatants the 
 face of Harry Rivers. She recognised it, and there came over 
 her heart a cold shudder, followed by a dark despair, in com- 
 parison with which her late troubles now seemed trivial. 
 
 For this was Harry Rivers, the man for whose sake she had 
 come to Spain ! 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 HuW LOPEZ INVITES THE PRIEST TO MARRY HIM, AND HOW 
 THE PRIEST MAKES A DISTURBANCE. 
 
 All was wild confusion. 
 
 Katie had fainted, aud Rita was endeavouring to hving her 
 back to consciousness. Russell stood amazed and bewildered. Ilis 
 chief fear now was one of being implicated in this mad outbreak 
 of Rivers, who had been his companion in the tiain and in the 
 castle, and might be taken as his confidant. 
 
 Talbot stood staring at Harry in wonder and in dark perplexity, 
 Harry, however, saw her not ; but thought only of Katie, whom 
 he had failed to save. Struggles now were useless. He could 
 only fall back on despair. 
 
 Brooke noticed a new expression on Talbot's face, aud mar- 
 velled, but thought it merely arose from natural wonder or natural 
 sympathy with this unhappy man, who by his madness had rushed 
 upon his doom. 
 
 Ashby meanwhile stood calm , He saw and understood the act 
 of Harry and Katie. He wondered somewhat to find that their 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 249 
 
 ez was on his 
 fierce struggle 
 it the soldiers 
 urried in. All 
 ch was Harry 
 mmibers. lie 
 ) wished to kill 
 
 ud voice, *aiul 
 t all. It's all a 
 
 a Harry, Katie, 
 y now retreated 
 •ostrate lover in 
 rudely. Harry, 
 oked all arouiul 
 
 ouaed from hov 
 ruggle subsided 
 : combatants the 
 ,here came over 
 despair, in corn- 
 trivial. 
 36 sake she had 
 
 IIM, AND now 
 
 ICE. 
 
 lug to bring her 
 lewildered. His 
 js mad outbreak 
 ,rain and in the 
 
 dark perplexity. 
 
 of Katie, whom 
 
 jless. He could 
 
 face, and mar- 
 [onder or natural 
 Iness had rushed 
 
 Iderstood the act 
 find that their 
 
 acquaintance had gone so far. He knew that both had l^een false 
 to him, but had no idea that either had grown to feel such pas- 
 sionate love for the other. And there came over him a passing 
 feeling of jealous anger, together with a natural indignation iit 
 the baseness of these two— the one his love, the other liis friend 
 — who had both betrayed him. So he looked with cold com- 
 placency upon tlieir woes, and thought that they were both re- 
 ceiving such severe retribution that he had no need for further 
 revenge. 
 
 Lopez, having seen that Harry's hands were firmly bound, 
 turned to Katie, who at length came to her senses, and looked 
 all around with a shudder. He was anxious to sootiie her, so as 
 to finish the ceremony. 
 
 'Be calm,' he said, in a low whisper, 'for his sake. He may 
 even yet be saved — I swear it. If you perform your promise, I 
 will forgive him. As you value your life, control yourself. If 
 these men understand how it is, they will kill him on the spot.' 
 
 At these woi'ds Katie shuddered the more, and with a violent 
 effort attained to something like calmness. She then stood up, 
 more tremulous and and weak than ever, and stood thus, leaning 
 upon Kita, without daring to encounter Harry's look. 
 
 ' The ceremony shall go on,' said Lopez, aloud. ' This fool's- 
 play shall not stop it.' 
 
 ' Keep calm,' he whispered to Katie ; ' his life now depends on 
 you altogether.' 
 
 Harry still stood there, with soldiers around him, liis hands 
 bound, his face bloodless, but with the eyes of a madman. 
 
 'Sefior,' said Lopez coolly, *I had no idea that you were a 
 lunatic. You must submit to temporary restraint.' 
 
 Harry made no reply. He looked all around, as though trying 
 to see if there might be any signs of sympathy in the faces of 
 the others, as though seeking in his despair for some faint ray of 
 ho])e. He saw the cold sneer of Ashby ; he saw the fierce frown 
 of Lopez ; he saw the trembling figure of llussell ; he saw the 
 anxious face of Brooke ; and then, last of all, he saw — Talbot ! 
 
 This was the first time that he had got a sight of her face. In 
 that instant, in spite of her disguise, there came in one flash the 
 recognition of the whole truth. He saw that she had been lost 
 — h'i(l been captured — had put on this disguise. At this discovery 
 there followed within him nothing less than a complete paralysis 
 of thought and feeling. In the shock of his sudden amazement 
 he could only ejaculate in half-audible tones the one word — 
 ' Sydney !' 
 
 Lopez heard this, but did not understand it. He wondered 
 why Harry should exhibit such emotion at the sight of the priest, 
 but hastily concluded that it was some more of his wild and 
 insane excitement over this marriage ceremony. 
 
250 
 
 A CASTLE /N SPAIN. 
 
 Brooke heard it, and stared in bewilderment first at one and 
 then at the other. 
 
 Talbot stood as before. She moved not, she sjioke not : she wag 
 stolid and stifF, like a statue of ice ; but there was in her face a 
 new horror — it was the face of one who sees a ghost. 
 
 To both of these it was a terrible moment. For Talbot saw 
 Harry, and Harry saw Talbot, and each recognised the otlier 
 fully, though neither ventured to address the other. This, then, 
 was the meeting of those two who had once loved and exchaiitftd 
 vows ; who had suffered and rejoiced together ; who had parted 
 in sorrow, and looked forward to a reunion with joy ; who but a 
 short time since had desired nothing so much as the sight of each 
 other ; this was their meeting and thus it took place, at the very 
 climax of that new and more passionate love which had been con- 
 ceived by each for another ! 
 
 Had Harry only recognised her a few minutes before, the siijlit 
 would have effectually chilled his hot blood and saved him fium 
 his mad assault on Lopez. He was calm enough now, however, 
 and this was quite sufficient for the latter. 
 
 ' Senor,' said he, * you deserve to be shot on the spot without 
 mercy, but out of regard for this lady and at her solicitation I 
 spare you. And now, seilor priest, let the ceremony begin, for 
 tins lady seems feeble.' 
 
 Lopez waited, expecting Brooke to translate this to Talbot. 
 
 Brooke hesitated. 
 
 Lopez, in surprise, repeated his words. * Why do you not inter- 
 pret?' he added. 
 
 It was the crisis of Talbot's fate. How could Brooke decide ! 
 Why should he interpret at all ? Should he do this ? No ; better 
 draw upon himself the wrath of Lopez. And yet what could lie 
 accomplish by a refusal to interpret ? These other prisoners could 
 act. They understood Spanish as well as Euglish. Such -were 
 the questions in Brooke's mind, and he could not decide. 
 
 Suddenly the decision on this matter was taken away altogether, 
 and adopted by Talbot herself. She would not let the vengeful 
 wrath of Lopez fall on Brooke or on any other than herself. She 
 understood his feelings fully, and therefore, to put an end to all 
 suspense, she took the matter in her own hands. 
 
 She therefore came close up to Lopez, and fixed her large, dark, 
 solemn eyes sternly yet mournfully upon his. Her face bore wit- 
 ness to a resolution that was immutable. Lopez could read its 
 expression and see all that was in her mind. 
 
 She pointed to Katie, then to herself, and then to him. Theu 
 looking fixedly at him, she shook her head violently and with 
 emphasis, and then hurled the breviary upon the floor. The act 
 and the expression were more eloquent than words. Lopez under- 
 stood all perfectly. His eyes flashed with just indignation, and 
 a oavage smile came over his face. 
 
 M 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 251 
 
 first at one and 
 
 ly do yon not inter- 
 
 ' Oho, sefior priest,' said he ; * so you think that because 1 have 
 ouce or twice restrained my an^'er, that I can be set at defiance 
 with impunity ! I'm tired of being magnanimous ; so let me tell 
 you that however merciful I have been before, I will show none 
 now. You must go on. I will allow of no hesitation. Tellium 
 that/ he added, to Brooke. 
 
 * He says,' said Brooke, ' that you must obey.' 
 
 Talbot scarcely heard this. 
 
 She never moved her eyes from Lopez ; she simply shook her 
 head, with her immutable resolve as visible as ever. Lojjcz could 
 see that the priest, for some motive or other, was bent on self- 
 sacrifice. 
 
 He took out his watch. 'I'll allow five minutes,' said lie, 'for 
 decision. If at the end of that time you refuse, I will blow out 
 your brains with my own hand. Tell him that.' 
 
 'Senor captain,' said Brooke impetuously, 'let me say one 
 word.' 
 
 ' Translate for me, T say !' 
 
 ' One word first.' 
 
 'Not one— obey me !' cried Lopez in fury. 
 
 ' Sefior captain,' said Brooke, not heeding him, ' this is a priest. 
 It is a matter of conscience.' 
 
 ' Silence !' roared Lopez. ' Tell him what I said. His time will 
 soon be up !' 
 
 Brooke turned to Talbot. 
 
 ' He'll only give you five minutes, Talbot,' said he. ' I'll try to 
 dissuade him.' 
 
 ' No use, Brooke,' said Talbot mournfully. ' I came prepared 
 for this.' 
 
 Brooke turned again to Lopez. 
 
 ' The priest says that his vows forbid him to blaspheme the 
 holy sacrament of marriage in this way. He says he will die 
 rather than risk his soul by an act of sacrilege.' 
 
 ' A curse on his soul !' cried Lopez. * What do I cai'e V 
 
 ' Look out for your own soul !' cried Brooke. 
 
 ' Aha ! are you too a priest ? Beware, sir ! your life is already 
 in peril,' 
 
 At this moment Harry cried out in a loud voice : 
 
 ' Stop, Captain Lopez — stop, for God's sake ! This is a mistake 
 —a terrible mistake.' 
 
 Lopez turned round in a fury. 
 
 ' Gag that devil !' he roared. 
 
 In a moment the soldiers had seized Harry and bound a 
 bandage over his mouth, by which they effectually stopped any 
 further remarks. 
 
 The last chance yet remained which Brooke might seize for 
 Talbot— it was to divulge her secret and tell about her disguise. 
 
' ..,...^.„y.. — r i-Tmiii» fi(iiiiiMM i > iii i 
 
 252 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 To divulge it to tliib enraged and furious chieftain miglit now 
 only render him ten times more furious and vengeful ; it mii,'lit 
 only aggravate the doom of the i)risoner ; but the risk must bo 
 run. 
 
 'Stop!' cried Brooke. 'Senor captain, listen. It'a a mis- 
 take She is ' 
 
 * Silence,' roared Lopez, ' or I'll blow your brains out 1' 
 ' Seiior, this priest is not ' 
 
 * Seize this fellow !' yelled Lopez. ' Bind him ! Gag him !' 
 Several of the men sprang toward Brooke, who struggled madly, 
 
 shouting at the same time words which soon were drowned in tlio 
 uproar that followed. 
 
 Lopez now snatched a rifle from one of his men. Katie gave 
 a louil scream ; llussell fell on his knees ; Ashby aliuddered. 
 
 Lo])ez took deadly aim at Talbot. 
 
 ' Your time is up !' he said coolly. 
 
 Talbot stood motionless, witli a face of marble and an attitude 
 perfectly rigid ; not a nerve quivered as she looked into the 
 muzzle of the rifle, but her lips moved as if she were murmuiing 
 a prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 IN WHICH AN INTERUUPTION OCCURS IN A MARRIAGE 
 
 CEREMONY. 
 
 Talbot stood ; the rifle was levelled at her ; Lopez had taken 
 deadly aim ; his finger was on the trigger ; she felt that her 
 last hour had come, and that naught could avail her now but 
 prayer. 
 
 Brooke was struggling like a madman. Two of the soldiers 
 had been hurled to the floor ; another was clinging to his neck ; 
 a fourth was savagely trying to gouge out his eyes. 
 
 Lopez pulled the trigger. The report rang through the 
 hall. 
 
 At that very instant, as the fire and smoke went flashing and 
 blazing at Talbot — or rather, the very instant before — a figure 
 dashed toward her. It was Brooke. By one supreme and con- 
 vulsive eflrort he had torn himself away from his assailants, and 
 with one great bound had flung himself at Talbot. At the rush 
 which he made she fell backward, and the next instant Brooke 
 fell upon hei\ Talbot then struggled up to her feet, and through 
 the dense clouds of smoke reached down to raise up Brooke. 
 He was senseless. 
 
 With a low moan like the cry of a suffering animal, Talbot 
 threw herself upon the senseless form. From his forehead there 
 
A CASTLIi IX SPA/X. 
 
 253 
 
 itain miglit now 
 ngeful ; it mi-^lit 
 .he risk luust be 
 
 ,ei). It's a mis- 
 
 \ins 
 
 out r 
 
 i ! Gag him !' 
 ) struggled inadly, 
 re drowned in the 
 
 men. Katie gave 
 )y shuddered. 
 
 ,le and an attitude 
 e looked into the 
 e were murmuring 
 
 A MAPvrJAGE 
 
 Lopez had taken 
 
 she felt that her 
 
 avail her now but 
 
 Iwo of the soldiers 
 jnging to his neck ; 
 
 i eyes. 
 
 :ang through the 
 
 went flashing and 
 
 It before— a figure 
 
 1 supreme and con- 
 
 his assailants, and 
 
 Llbot. At the rush 
 
 >xt instant Brooke 
 
 feet, and through 
 
 raise up Brooke. 
 
 Ing animal, Talbot 
 1 his forehead there 
 
 But the angel 
 avenging 
 
 and 
 
 trickled several streams of Idood which fell to the lloor in a 
 pool. Hho pressed her lips again and again to the wound, and 
 then through the dense smoke she rose aiul looked around, con- 
 fronting Lopez with tlio blood of Brooke's wounds staining all 
 her face. It was a face beautiful in its niarlile whitencHsas the 
 face of a statue of Athena ; yet terrible in the li.vcd and stony 
 horror of its eyes, and in the blood-streaks tliat covered it, and 
 in the incarnate hate of its expression — terrible in all this as the 
 Gorgon face of Medusa. 
 
 Lopez shrank back ; his vengeance was satisfied, his fury hr.d 
 all subsided, and there ilashed through every nerve a thrill of 
 horror. It was then to him as though the dead — the priest 
 whom ho had just slain — had sprung up by an immediate resur- 
 rection from death to punish him for such atrocious sacrilege. 
 AH the superstition of his Spanish nature now rolled in ono 
 wave over his soul, overwhelming it with panic fear. The 
 dead ! the dead ! he thought — the priest with the angel face — 
 murdered because he would not sin — it was he ! 
 face was now the awful head of a haunting 
 demon. 
 
 And now at this very instant, while the smoke was still hang- 
 ing in dense folds half-way between floor and ceiling ; while 
 Brooke still lay in his blood ; while Talbot still glared in fury 
 upon Lopez ; at this very moment there arose a wild cry — sud- 
 den, menacing, irresistible —by which the whole face of the 
 scene was changed. 
 'VivaelRey!' 
 
 Such was the cry that now sounded out in the midst of tho 
 amazed Republicans. There was a rush and a trample. Then 
 followed the thunder of rifles, and through the smoke dusky 
 figures were visible, rushing to and fro. 
 
 Once again, once more, and again, and yet again, report after 
 report rang out. All the room was dense with smoke, and in 
 that thick darkness nothing was visible ; but voices yelled in 
 fear, and other voices shouted in triumph ; while far above all 
 sounded the war-cry, ' Viva el Rey 1' ' Down with the rebels !' 
 *No quarter 1' 
 
 Shrieks arose in the hall without. Then cries followed — 
 ' Treason ! treason ! We are betrayed ! Fly ! fly !' These 
 words were screamed in the shrill tones of a woman. Tho 
 terror of that cry communicated itself to all. A universal 
 trample and a rush succeeded, and the whole band of Repub- 
 licans, in mad panic, fled away. 
 
 Out they went, that panic-stricken band, into the courtyard, 
 and out through the gates, and afar away through the open 
 country, each one seeking his own safety, and hearing in his 
 disordered fancy the sound behind him of hot pursuit. There 
 
254 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 i i 
 
 was no piu'Hiiit — no enemy followed close l)(jliin<l : lint in that 
 crowd of panic-stricken Fu<,'itivcs each heard the swift rush and 
 the qnick tramplin<^ footfalls of all the rest ; and as none dared 
 to look back, so all continued to run ; and so they ran, and : an, 
 and ran, and they have [)robably been keeping it up ever since, 
 unless, indeed, they thought better of it, and concluded to stop 
 and rest. 
 
 The reason why there was no pursuit is a very simple one. 
 The fact is, the attacking force amounted to no more than six, 
 these six being no others than our friends the imprisoned Car- 
 lists, headed by the intrepid, the ardent, the devoted, the plucky 
 little Spanish maid TJolores. She had contrived to pick upsonio 
 stray arms and ammunition with which she had supplied her 
 Carlist friends, and, waiting for some opportune moment, liad 
 made a sudden rush, like Gideon upon the Midianites, with the 
 startling results above described. 
 
 But let us on with our story. 
 
 The smoke rolled away, and there was disclosed a new scone. 
 
 Two or three wounded Republicans lay writhing on the floor. 
 Lopez lay near, bor tight, and surrounded by the six Carlists. 
 who, I am sor y to .v.iy, insulted their captive by fierce thieats 
 and unnecessary taunts. At all this Lopez seemed unmovt'd, 
 though the expression of his face was by no means a happy 
 one. 
 
 It is a very annoying thing, my reader, when yi )U are bringing 
 in your long suit, and the game appears to be all your own, to 
 have it all changed by the interposition of a miserable trump, 
 on the existence of which you had not reckoned ; and then to 
 leave the role of Conquering Hero, and change the part of victor 
 for that of vanquished, requires so many high moral qualities 
 that few can be reasonably expected to exhibit them in sucli a 
 wicked world as this. 
 
 And here there is an excellent opportunity to pause and 
 moralize : but, on the whole, perhaps it is better to proceed. 
 
 Very well, then. 
 
 There was Dolores, and she was clinging to Ashby in a per- 
 fect abandon of joy. She had found him ! that was bliss in- 
 deed. She had saved him ! that was joy almost too great for 
 endurance. The impetuous and ardent nature of Dolores, 
 which made her so brave, made her also the slave of her chang 
 ing moods ; and so it was that the heroine who had but lately 
 led that wild charge on to victory now sobbed and wept con- 
 vulsively in Ashby's arms. As for Ashby, he no longer seemed 
 made of stone. He forgot all else except the one fact that 
 Dolores had come back to him. Lopez might have perceived, if 
 lie had leisure for such observations, that Ashby's English 
 phlegm formed but a part of his character ; and the siglit of 
 
A CASTIJ: IX SPA/X. 
 
 255 
 
 [ ; l)ut in UiaL 
 swift vvisli iuul 
 I as none (l:\ved 
 ,y van, ainl '.an, 
 b up cvcv bineo, 
 icluaed to stop 
 
 Qvy simple one, 
 , tnt)ro than six, 
 mpviHOUcd Cav- 
 'oted,tlie plucky 
 to pick up s<nno 
 ad supplied hcv 
 no moment, liad 
 iianites, with the 
 
 )sed a new scene. 
 hing on the floor. 
 ,y the six Cavlists. 
 "by fierce threats 
 seemed unmoved, 
 
 means a happy 
 
 1 you are bringing 
 , all your own, to 
 
 miserable trump, 
 ned; and then to 
 5 the part of victor 
 \i moral quahties 
 it them in such a 
 
 lity to pause and 
 ter to proceed. 
 
 J Ashby in a per- 
 that wan bliss in- 
 most too great tor 
 fature of Dolores, 
 klave of her chang 
 dio had but lately 
 jed and wept coii- 
 le no longer seemed 
 J the one fact tliat 
 It have perceived, it 
 It Ashby's Enghsh 
 1; and the sight ot 
 
 tluvt young man's rai)tiiru over Dolores luiyht have ma<le hiui 
 think the English a fiekic and vnliitilo r.aco. 
 
 Tiio scene di.sclosod H.-irry and Katio also in an equally tender 
 situation ; for Harry ',s Ijonds had l)cen cut, and ho had llown at 
 once to Katie's sido. But the prostration coii-^oqucut ui)un all 
 this excitement as so great that he found it necessary to carry 
 li^r to the open air. 
 Dolores now roused herself. 
 
 'Come,' said she, ' let us close the gates before they rally.' 
 With these words she hurried out, fuiluwed by Ashhy. Then 
 the Carlists followed. 
 
 Uussell still remained. As yet he could scarcely believe in 
 his good fortune. Over and over again had he felt liiniselt 
 carefully all over to assure himself that no bullet had penetrated 
 any part of his precious skin, and gi'adually the sweet convic- 
 tion of his souudiiLss pervaded his inner man. Then there was 
 another joyful discovery, which was that llita had disappeared. 
 In the wild tumult and den-e .,moke lie had lost sight of her. 
 What had become of her he could not imagine. Wheiher slio 
 had lied in ^.^o, wild panic, or had remained and coneoaled herself, 
 he could not say. llis knowledge of her character made liim 
 dread the worst, and he felt sure she wa^' not very far away. 
 So he thought that the safest place for himself would be as 
 near as possible to those Carlists whom Rita had betrayed, and 
 Avhom she now justly dreaded more than anything else. So ho 
 hurried out after the noble six. 
 
 On the floor Brooke lay, and there Talbot was seated, holding 
 his head on her lap. He was senseless, yet she could feel that 
 his heart was beating, and in tliat pulsation she found her hope, 
 liis wounds did not seem deep, for she had felt with tender 
 fingers along the place where the blood was flowing without de- 
 tecting anything that seemed formidable. Still, the sight of 
 his prostrate and bleeding form, as ho lay senseless in her arms, 
 after he had flung his life away for her sake, Avas one that 
 moved her so profoundly that all the world for her was now at 
 that moment centred in that prostrate figure with the poor, 
 piteous bleeding head. With tender hands she Aviped away ihe 
 blood that still oozed from the wound and trickled down his 
 face ; more tenderly still she bowed down low over that uncon- 
 scious head and Idssed the dear wounds that had been received 
 for her, and thus hung over him in a rapture of love and an 
 agony of despair. 
 
 Lopez saw this and wondered, and looked on in still increas- 
 ing- wonder, till this was all that he saw, and all else was for- 
 gotten in a sudden great light that flashed into his mind. 
 
 He saw it all. ' So this,' he thought, ' was the reason why 
 these two held such self-sacrificing airection ; this was the reason 
 
'■'/> 
 
 A CAST/J: IX SPA/X. 
 
 why Olio would iiei'hist in iiHkiiig everythiiiK for llic otiiuv. 'i'ho 
 priest woiilil not leave the spy when freeiloin was o(Tei(!(l ; tlio 
 priest had stood before the spy, interposiiijf between iiiin iiiul 
 the bullets ; tiio spy had fluuf? himself into the jaws of deatli to 
 save the priest. I'riest ! Ah, thou of the ant?cl face ! thou, so 
 calm in the presence of death for thy beloved ! thou ! no anf,'t'l, 
 no demon, but a woman, with a woman's heart of hearts, daiing 
 all things for thy love I' 
 
 A mighty revolution took place in the breast of Lopez. IJound 
 as ho was, ho struggled to his feet, and then dropped on his 
 knees before Talbot. He then bent down and examined Brooke 
 very carefully. Then ho looked up, nodded, and smiled. Then 
 ho kissed Talbot's hand. Thou he again smiled, as if to en- 
 courage her. 
 
 Talbot caught at tho hint and the hopo that was thus lieM 
 out. Lopez was oiFering his assistance. She accepted it. She 
 determined to loose his bonds. True, ho might tly on the in- 
 stant, and bring back all his men ; Init tho preservation of 
 Brooko was too important a thing to admit of a moment's in 'ci- 
 tation. Besides, had sho not already discovered that tliis 
 Spaniard had a heart full of noble and tender emotions ? tliat 
 ho was at once heroic and compassionate, and one on whose 
 honour sho might rely to the uttermost ? 
 
 With a small penknife she quickly cut his bonds. 
 
 Lopez was free. 
 
 But Lopez remained. He bent over Brooke. Ho raised him 
 up to a more comfortable position, and examined him in a way 
 which showed both skill and experience. 
 
 Then he suddenly rose and left tho room. Talbot heard his 
 footsteps outside. Was ho escaping ? she asked herself, and 
 her answer was, No. 
 
 She was right. In a few moments Lopez came back with 
 some cold water. Ho bathed Brooke's head, loosened his neck- 
 cloth, and rubbed his hands as skilfully as a doctor and as 
 tenderly as a nurse. 
 
 At length Brooke drew a long breath; then opened his eyes, 
 and looked around with a bewildered air. Then he sat up and 
 stared. He saw Lopez, no longer stern and hostile, but sur- 
 veying him with kindly anxiety. He saw Talbot, her face all 
 stained with blood, but her eyes fixed on him, glowing with h\o 
 unutterable and radiant with joy. 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke,' said she, ' tell him to fly ! Ho is free— tell 
 him.' 
 
 Xot understanding any of the circumstances around him, 
 Brooke obeyed Talbot mechanically, and translated her words 
 simply as she had spoken them. 
 
 ' Fly !' said he ; ' you are free !' 
 
A CAS 77./: AV SPA/X 
 
 357 
 
 A flush of joy passed over the face of Lopez. 
 
 ' Noblest of ladies !' said ho, looking reverentially at Talljot, 
 * I take my life from you, and will never forget you till my 
 dying day. Farewell ! farewell !' 
 
 And with these words ho was gone. 
 
 Ho is free— tell 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 IN WHICir TALBOT TAKES OFF HER DISGUISE. 
 
 DrtooKE and Talbot were now alone ; for, though there were one 
 or two wounded in the room, yet the.se were too much taken uj) 
 with their own pain.s to think of anything else. 
 
 Urooke's wound, after all, turned out to be but slight. The 
 bullet had grazed his skull, making a furrow through tlie scal[) of 
 no greater depth than the skin, and carrying away a pathway of 
 hair. The sudden and sharp force of such a blow had been 
 sullicient to fell him to the floor and leave him senseless ; but, 
 upon reviving, it did not take a very long time for him to regain 
 his strength and the full use of his faculties. The traces of the 
 blow were soon effaced, and Brooke at last showed himself to be 
 very little the worse for his adventure. His face wati marked 
 here and there by spots from the jiowder ; but the blootl-stains 
 were quickly washed away, and his head was Lound up in a 
 uarrow bandage made of Talbot's handkerchief. His hat, which 
 had fallen off during his struggles with the soldiers, was now re- 
 covered, and, as it was of soft stuff, he was able to wear it. 
 
 ' With this/ said he, ' Brooke is himself again.' 
 
 Talbot now proceeded to wash the blood-staius from her own 
 face. 
 
 ' That looks better,' said Brooke. ' Streaks of blood did not 
 improve your personal appearance.' 
 
 lie tried to speak in his usual careless tone, but his voice was 
 tremulous and agitated. 
 
 ' Your blood, Brooke,' said Talbot, in a faltering voice — ' your 
 blood— poured out— for me !' 
 
 There was a solemn silence after this. Then Brooke leaned 
 buck and gave a heavy sigh. 
 
 ' I feel a little shaky still,' said he. 
 
 'Let me support you,' said Talbot, with feverish eagerness. 
 ' You must be weak still — very weak. You must not exert your- 
 self too much.' 
 
 She held out her arms as though to raise him up ; but Brooke 
 drew back. 
 
 * No, no,' he murmured/ in a faint voice ; ' it's no matter — no 
 matter at all.' 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 .1 CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 Talbot looked ilowu and said nothiiiff. 
 
 * I don't know what liapponcd,' said Ijrooke. ' Where is every- 
 body ] And Loju'z—why (.litl you tell him he was free ] AV;i.,s 
 he a i)ri.souer I And how ? Tell me all about it.' 
 
 Upon this Talbot narrated as briefly as possible the circum- 
 stances of the recent struggle. 
 
 ' ^Vhere is everybody now /' asketl Brooke. 
 
 * I don't know. It is enough for me that you are here, and 
 alive and safe.' 
 
 'And so you let Lopez go, after alii' asked Brooke, after 
 another pause. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Talbot ; ' he did what I was pi'aying for— ho 
 brought you back to life. Was I wrong V 
 
 ' Wrong or right,' said Brooke, ' I approve of it. Everythiiii: 
 that you do is right in my eyes.' 
 
 Talbot now began to take oil' the priest's dress. 
 
 * What are you doing T askeil Brooke hastily, starting up to 
 his feet with a (]uickness which showed that, as he had said, he 
 ■was (^lite himself again. 
 
 ' I have no further use for this dress now,' said she. ' I will 
 take it otlV 
 
 ' Don't,' said Brooke imploringly. ' Wear it still — at least as 
 long as you are with me ; for I shall think of you, Talbot, in that 
 dress always, until my dying day — you in that dress— in that 
 priest's dress, with the face of an nngel of heaven. It was thus 
 that you looked as you came between me and the levelled guns of 
 the soldiers at the old mill. Talbot, I should now be a dead man, 
 but for you.' 
 
 Tulbot looked at him earnestly, and a sad smile stole over lier 
 face. 
 
 ' Brooke,' said she, ' I should now be a dead girl, but for you.' 
 
 They both stood face t) face. Brooke's memory was now fully 
 restored, and in liis mind there was the clear antl uncloudeil re- 
 collection of that scene which had called forth his act of t^elt- 
 surrender. As he looked at Talbot, he saw her eyes fastened ou 
 his with an expression such as he hatl seen there before more thau 
 once — a look which told him of all that was in her heart. He 
 held out his hands. She held out hers to meet them, and he 
 seized them in a convulsive grasp. Thus they stood, hoUliug 
 one another's hands, and looking into one another's eyes auJ 
 hearts. 
 
 Talbot's eyes wei'? moist with tears that trembled in them, auJ 
 her lips quivered as though she was about to speak. But Brook 
 said not one word. 
 
 At last Talbot burst forth. 
 
 'Brooke,' said she impetuously, 'you may keep silent, if yo'l 
 choose ; but I will uot, for I cannot. I will speak, Brooke. 31' I 
 
A CASTLE IX SPAIN. 
 
 259 
 
 Where is evovy- 
 'ble tlie civcum- 
 
 )u are liero, and 
 ed Uvooke, after 
 pvayiug for-hc 
 ,f it. Everything 
 
 %^ starting up to 
 ^ us he had saul, lie 
 
 said she. 'I^^il^ 
 
 , it stiU-at leastas 
 ^'Ou/ralbot,m >. 
 that clress-m hat 
 
 :aveu. It ^vas ^^'"; 
 the levelled gun^ot 
 
 uow be a dead wan, 
 smile stole over kv 
 
 lid girl, V)ut for you.' 
 Lory Vas uoy ta^ 
 L and unclouded e 
 ]orth his act of oU- 
 her eyes fastened u 
 
 I ere before mov^^^^^"^ 
 las in her heart. ^ 
 
 meet them, and J 
 
 I they stood, hoUlu^ 
 
 [e another's eyes uud 
 
 Hvembledinthem,aiJ^l 
 
 I ,^ But Brook 
 lo speaK. J^'-^*' " 
 
 lay keep silent, if yO'lj 
 U speak, Brooke. ^^^ 
 
 life is yours, for you li;ivc saved it, and heucefouli all old tics 
 belonging to my old life are broken. From this time I Uing all 
 the past away for ever, and begiu life anew.' 
 Brooke looked at her Avitli unutterable agitation. 
 ' Oh, Talbot, Talbot, what do you mean i' 
 Talbot drew nearer and spoke further. Her eyes were fixed 
 on his with a sleeper and more earnest ga/e ; her voice was low, 
 and slow, and tveniulous ; and at every wonl there went a thi'ill 
 Ihrough all the being of the man to whom she spoke. And this 
 man to whom she spoke Avas one whose idol she had already 
 <,'rowu to be ; whose heart her presence tilled with silent delight ; 
 through whom her glance flasho.i Avith the force of lightning ; 
 through whose frame her lightest touch could send a tremor of 
 ecstasy. This man she now held, her hands clasped in his. her 
 eyes fixed ou his, and her lips uttering words sueh as he had 
 uever heard before. 
 
 'Oh, Brooke,' said Talbot, 'I will speak! Brooke — ncjble, 
 tender heart ! — you love me, and with all the strength of your 
 soul. Honour forbids you to say this in words, but you say it in 
 every look, and it is sj)oken in every^ tone of your voiee, and I 
 feel it in every touch of your hands. Can J not read it in your 
 eyes, Brooke, every time that you look at me I ]Most of all, can 
 I nut see how you love me when you iliiig your life away for me \ 
 But what is that last act of yours \ It is nothing uiore than the 
 setpiel of long acts of self-sacritice for me ! Brooke, I kuow that 
 you love me, and that you love me better than all the world, and 
 better than life itself. Jvei?[) your words to yourself, if you 
 choose. Lock your lips tight. »Save your plighted word, if you 
 cau ; but, after all, your heart is jnine. I kuoAV that you love 
 me, and me only, and, Brooke— oh, Brooke ! you kuow — well — 
 well you know how dearly I — love— you !' 
 
 It was his Talbot v.dio said this, and she said it to him, and sIk 
 said it at the very time when he was all quivering under the 
 iufluence of his own mighty love, and the magnetism of her look 
 and of her touch. His head fell bowetl down nearer to her a.s 
 she spoke ; he trembletl from head to foot. He tore away' his 
 hands from her grasp. Hung his arms around her, and straiued 
 her again and agaiu to his breast in a convulsive eniugy of 
 passion. His voice was all broken, and was scarce audible as, in 
 agitated tones, he nuirmured in her ear : 
 'Talbot ! Talbot, darling ! I love you — I adore you ! 1 uever 
 
 kuew what love Avas, till I met you !' 
 
 ***** 
 
 These asterisks are intended to represent a long silence which 
 succeeded the remarks above reported. The policy of silence was 
 for them quite the most sensible under the circumstances. Until 
 this moment they had both clung to those engagements to others 
 
 17 — 2 
 
26o 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 1 
 
 ■which uelther had forgotten, aud which they had coufided to each 
 other. Eacli knew the other's secret. But now they Loth flung 
 U[) those engagements and confessed their love to one anoth'jr. 
 And liow such higii-toned people eoukl justify such conduct to 
 their consciences is a problem that I, for my part, dou't pretend 
 to be able to solve. 
 
 At length they began to be aware of the existence of the out- 
 side wo''!d. 
 
 * These poor wounded/ ;-iaid Talbot, ' require some attention. 
 Let UH go out. Let us get some water and try to make it easier 
 for theai.' 
 
 Talbot now proceeded to take oil' the priest's dress, in which 
 task she had been interrupted by Brooke. He again tried to 
 dissuade her, but in vain. 
 
 ' No,' said she ; * it only gets me into trouble. If I am to be 
 taken prisoner again, it shall be in my true character. This dis- 
 guise may be useful to you.' 
 
 And with these words Talbot removed the dress, and stood 
 forth in her own proper costume — that of an English lady, as she 
 was wdien Brooke first met her. 
 
 And now the two went out to procure water for the wounded 
 prisoners. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 ■\V1I1CII TELLS OF A EEUNION OF VLKY DEAE OLD FllIENDs. 
 
 While Brooke and Talbot were thus conversing, others wore 
 indulging in the same pursuit, and none to better purpose llum 
 Harry and Katie. 
 
 No one can say that Katie had not been very severely tried, 
 and had not passed through a most distressing ordeal. Apart 
 from the long trial of mind which had preceded that eventful 
 morning, the circumstances of the final scene were enough to shake 
 up stronger ngrves than those of Katie. So completely was s.ie 
 prostrated, that under any other circumstances nothing could have 
 saved her from a fit of sickiress, which miglit ]wssibly have re- 
 sulted in brain-fever and terminated fatally, for all I know ; but 
 fortunately, under these actually existing c'rcumstances, she wa? 
 spared all this. The presence of Harry made all the difrervu.o 
 in the wrvUl. 
 
 After vetiriug from the scene of conflict, they asceudetl iuto 
 that upper chranber in which Katie had lasc been imprisoned, ami 
 here they seated themselves so that Katie might rest, sui)porteil 
 by Harry's encircling arms, and at the same time be refreshed ly 
 
A CASTLE AV SPA/N. 
 
 01 
 
 1 coufn-leil to each 
 \r tliey both tluug 
 e to oue iiuoth'jr. 
 such conduct to 
 \rt, don't preteud 
 
 itence of the out- 
 
 e some attentiou. 
 ' to make it easioi 
 
 t's dress, in which 
 Lie agaiu tried to 
 
 lie. If I «•!" t*^' ^^^ 
 aracter. This dis- 
 
 3 dress, and stooa 
 iuglish Uuly, as ^^he 
 
 er for the wounde^l 
 
 AR OLD FRIE>DS. 
 
 i^ersiug, others were 
 better purpose tliau 
 
 very severely tried, 
 5sing ordeal. Apart 
 seeded that eventful 
 were enough to shake 
 ) completely was sae 
 ?s nothing could have 
 
 ht possibly have «■ 
 ; £„r all 1 know ; uut 
 reiunstauces, she w;i' 
 ,ide all the ditleveu-c 
 
 ;, they ascended iuto 
 been imprisoned, ami j 
 
 night rest, supported 
 time be refreshed b} 
 
 the fresh air. Katie now began to rally with the rapidity which 
 is characteristic of buoyant natures, and soon began to show some- 
 thing of her usual lightness of heart. Harry, however, thougli 
 most tender and atlectionate, seemed changed, aud the change 
 was soon detected by Katie's <piick ]>erception. 
 
 ' W'hat is the matter with you ?' slie asked. ' You don't seem 
 glad at all.' 
 
 'Oh yes,' said Ilany, ' I'm very glad indeed.' 
 
 He spoke in a doleful tone of voice, which was b}^ no means in 
 accord with his words. 
 
 ' Your voice don't sound very glad,' said Katie reproachfully; 
 'and you look troubled. You are so ])'eoccui)ied that you can't 
 say anything. But I suppose you feel the etl'ects of that awful 
 scene — aud oh, how awful it was !' 
 
 Katie relapsed into silence, and Harry felt somev hat relieved ; 
 for iu truth he was preoccupied, and had much on his nund. 
 
 It was the thought of Talbot that filled his mind. It was she 
 whom he had seen in that ])riest's disguise. It was his aflianced 
 hride whom he had lost, and now at last found ! Found ! Great 
 Heaven ! and here ! and thus ! Here — when he was here ready 
 to die for Katie ; when he was now with Katie, who had turned 
 to him from all the world ! 
 
 Was he a man of honour I Honour ! The name now seemed 
 .1 mockery. Which way would honour inii)el him ? To give up 
 Katie ? What ! when she had giveu up all for him ? \Vhat ! 
 wlien he had fought a mortal fpiarrel with Ashby for hev ? 
 Honour ? Was not honour due to Ashby ? and had he not been 
 a traitor to his friend I 
 
 There was this tight yet before him, and it woidd be soon ; for 
 Ashby was free. A fight for Katie ! And Talbot was here ! 
 !Slie would know all. And she — she who had come all the way 
 from Enirland, who iiad found him not, who had imauined herself 
 deserted— she would learn of ins pertidy. The thought was 
 lionible. Upon such agonizing thoughts as these came Katie's 
 question : 
 
 ' Why are you so sad V 
 
 Harry sighed. 
 
 ' I'm thinking of Ashby,' said ho. ' He's free now^ He'll soon 
 he seeking you.' 
 
 At this Katie tapped her foot nervously. 
 
 ' Well,' said she, ' if you are thinking of him it's very bad taste 
 to say so. I wasn't thinking of him at all.' 
 
 but this remark seemed to set Katie oil' thinking about Ashby, 
 for she too seemed preoccupied. 
 
 ' 1 think it's a gi-eat shame,' said she. 
 
 ' What V 
 
 'Why, for Mr. Ashby to come bothering me just now.' 
 
26: 
 
 A CAS 77. 1- rX SPA FN. 
 
 ir;iny h;^M iioUiiiiL^, and llioy liotli rolajwed once movo into 
 silcnco. 
 
 Tho liardci- task was hrfoiv iravvy. TIumt wore two for Iiim 
 to fat'o. One, llic t'licnd lo wlioni lie had Ixhmi a Irailov ; Hi,. 
 ollu'f, his lictrolhcd, to wiioni ho had hccn t'also. Of these two 
 the hiLler was by far t lie worse, lie liad faced AshUy ahc'Klv, 
 and eouM face him ai^ain, as a mortal enemy, to ii.i^lil a niiirt;il 
 batlh' ; but 'ralbot ! All! witli what eyes conid hi' look n|i(iii 
 tliat pure and nohU^ inci) I With what, words could he aihb'css \u'y > 
 
 Katie's thoughts seemed to be runninif in that channel whirh 
 llariy was nsin<,^ for his own ; for slie su»hlenly k)okod at liim 
 with eai'nest scrutiny, and said abrujjtly : 
 
 ' r.ut vou are aa had.' 
 
 'As bad/' 
 
 ' As ba«l as mo.' 
 
 I larry si<j;lied. 
 
 ' Mr. Asliby,' said Katio inuocoutly, ' will want to sec you too, 
 yon know.' 
 
 ' Of conivse.' said Harry. 
 
 *()]i woll, then,' said Katie, ' I needn't see him at all. You can 
 explain it all ; for really I hardly kn»)w what I can possibly IuhI 
 to say to him.' 
 
 ' fm afraid,' said 1 Tarry, * that he will in.sist on seeing you, and 
 on learning his fate fr<)m your own lips.' 
 
 ' His fate !' said Katie --'oh dear!" 
 
 ' r would take all the dilllculty froniyon if T could,' said ITarry, 
 ' bnt I don't see how F can,' 
 
 ' Oh well,' said Katie cheei'fully. ' Perhaps he will not be in 
 any very great hnrry to see me, after all. lie did not seem very 
 anxious about me in the room below, I/c did not look like a 
 maniac, //c did not remonstrate with Lopez. I/c did not diav; 
 his i)istol and attack the ca])tain in the midst of his men. //cdld 
 not tight for me, and risk his life. No ; he thought too nmcli of 
 his own dear self, and left all the fighting and all the risl to one 
 who is worth far more than ten thousand Ashbys ! And that's 
 what I'll tell him !' said Katie. ' Let me see him now, while all 
 this is fresh in my memory. ( 'ome, Harr}', let ns wait no longer, 
 but if this meeting Inis to be, let it be now.' 
 
 Katie poured forth these M'ords in an impetuous torrent, and, 
 starting up, led the way out. Harry followed, and thus tlicy 
 descended the stairway to the lower hall. 
 
 Ashby had gone out shortly after ITarry and Katie, following 
 Polores, who was anxious to see about the gates. The six t'arlists 
 followed. The gates were wide ojien, and far away a few of the 
 fugitives could still be .seen flying as fast as their feet could carry 
 them. The six (.'arlists soon had the gates linnly closed ainl 
 barred, and mounted guard here, deeming this te ^"" th<.- weak 
 
1 CASTLE TN SP.ir.Y. 
 
 263 
 
 ce movo into 
 
 to see you too, 
 
 seeing you, niul 
 
 il(l,'s!\i(in;uTV, 
 
 ! And that's 
 
 ])oint of the castle ; and thinking,', too, that if an enemy appeared, 
 lie would onsidt'v six men at tlie .:,"rte a si;.,ni that nix huiKhed 
 weie in the jr'i'rison. 
 
 KNissc'll h;ni followed the six ( 'arlists, thinkini^ th..».t with them 
 lie would lie safor than anywhere else. iJita iiad now a hoi'ror 
 of '.those Carlists whom she had hetrayed, and, a.-^ he thou<;ht, 
 would venture anywhere rather than into Iheir ])i('.sence. 
 
 And now the gooil man felt (|uite martial. 'I'iiis new ehanL^e 
 iu his situation, and the inspirintj; jjreseuce of his military fiiends, 
 iiiaile him detei'mine to <,'et rid of that oilious dis<fuis(! which Uita 
 lind furnished him. Jle iiroeeeded, therefore, to divest himself 
 of it. 
 
 The Carlists ha.d not noticed him thus far, and had not at al) 
 reco^'nised him. (Jreat was their surprise wluui they saw this 
 ' woman ' tearing otl' her outer robe ; but far greater was it when 
 tliey saw the marvellous transformation of a commonplace woman 
 into a resplendent geiu'ral-ollicer all in blue and gold. 
 
 A. murmur ran through tluim, partly of amusenu'ul,, partly of 
 approval. One of them addressed him. liiiasell shook his head. 
 
 ' Jfe is a French general,' said one ; ' he doesn't understand us. 
 Can't some one speak French f 
 
 No one could. One of them tliCJ ran inside and brought out a 
 sword, with belt, etc.. "^vhich he handed to the ' I'^rench general.' 
 JIussell took it, and after some trouble succcded in buckling the 
 martial gear around him. Then, by way of an additional safe- 
 guard against his enemy, he drew his sword, and tiiking his seat 
 on a sto le near the gate, glared watchfully around. 
 
 Dolores and Ashby had much to talk of, out Dolores was too 
 prudent ^o waste time on mere explanations. There was yet 
 very much to be done. Above all, they must now consider how 
 they were to get out of the castle. After all, as far as she could 
 SCO, their ])o^ition had changed little, if at all, for the better. 
 The enemy would rally. They would be attacked. No defence 
 v,as })ossible. They would soon be prisoners or fugitives. And 
 if they were to fly, how could they hojie to escape in a country 
 swarming with roving bands of marauders belonging to both 
 parties I The problem was a dillicult one, and one which was 
 not to be solved very readily. 
 
 At length Dolores thought of the wounded men, and as she had 
 n very tender heart, she proposed to go and help Lhem. The two 
 then returned and entered the castle. They reached the hall at 
 the very time when the other parties were coming into it — 
 namely, Brooke and Talbot from the room, and Harry and Katie 
 from the up]»er regions. Such coincidences are fre(iuent iu real 
 life, ami still more frec(ueut iu our ' Castles in Spain,' 
 
 As Brooke and Talbot came out, Ashl>y and Dolores, advancing 
 toward the room, nu^t them face to face. Brooke and Dolores 
 
WSB. 
 
 264 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 looked upon one auother. There was the flasli of in 'nal reco!;;. 
 iiitiou in the face.s of botli. Brooke sttemcd struck duiub. 
 Dolores was the first to s])eak. 
 
 ' Ualeigh !' she said, in tones of amazement and consternation. 
 
 ' Dolores !' saiil Brooke, in a deep,' hollow voice. 
 
 Brooke was ghastly ; but this may have heeu the efYect of llio 
 recent shock. As for Dolores, every trace of colour fled from lior 
 face, and she was as white as marble. 
 
 Talbot hea)(l this, and saw it. These words, these familiar 
 names, sinoie i»er co the heart. She recollected the story which 
 r>rooke had told her. She remembered the name of that Cubiui 
 maid. It was this — it was ' Dolores !' Was this she V 
 
 Slie looked around in despair. 
 
 At that moment, as her despairing eyes wandered around, they 
 fell full upon the face of Harry ; for Harry and Katie on descend- 
 ing the stairs had, on tiiis instant, reached the si)ot. 
 
 Harry saw her again. 
 
 The ])riest's dress was removed. She stood in her own garl)— 
 lier very self— Talbot ! with all her noble face revealed, and uU 
 her exquisite grace of feature and of form. 
 
 ' Sydney !' saiil he. 
 
 ' Harry !' said Talbot. 
 
 Katie heard this. She turned pale. All her i' oughts lied 
 from her ; she shrank back, and stood staring. But one thouglit 
 now remained — the thought suggested by that name, Sydnc}'. 
 Well she remembered that name, and all the incidents of that 
 story which Hariy had told her when they were last acquainted 
 — the wreck of the ship — the niaideu deserted and despairing— 
 her rescue by Harry — their escape in the boat — their love — their 
 plighted faitli — the appointed marriage — the lost bride. 
 
 Sydney ! It was she herself — the promised bi'ide of Ilany, 
 whom lie would, no loubt, be required to wed at once. 
 
 Now she understood why IIa,rry had been so preoccupied. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 IN WHICH A NUMBER OF PEOPLE FIND THEMSELVES IN A YEICY 
 EMIU RR ASSING SITUATION. 
 
 Brooke and Dolores stood facing one auother in silence. The 
 embarrassment was most painful. Each felt it too much to be 
 able to notice it in the other, and each instinctively avoided the 
 glance of the other's eyes, casting only looks of a furtive kind ;i.t 
 the other's face, and then hastily looking elsewhere. In fact, tlie 
 situation was truly horrible. 
 
 But Brooke felt it incumbent on him to say something ; he 
 also felt anxious to vindicate his honour— if such a thing weio, 
 
A CATTLE IN SPA/Y. 
 
 26: 
 
 ; nu.^nal record- 
 struck dumb, 
 
 coustcrnatiou. 
 
 lie etVeet of llio 
 .ir ileil from her 
 
 , these familiar 
 the story which 
 e of that C'ubuu 
 . she V 
 
 L-ed around, they 
 [atie on desceml- 
 
 lOt. 
 
 her owu garl)— 
 revealed, and all 
 
 ler v' -oughts fled 
 But oue thought 
 It name, Sydney, 
 incidents of that 
 
 hrst acquainted 
 md despairiug- 
 their love— their 
 
 bride. 
 
 britle of Harry, 
 it once, 
 preoccupied. 
 
 ILVES IN A VEIiY 
 
 in silence. The 
 too much to be- 
 lively avoided the 
 la furtive kind at 
 lere. In fact, the 
 
 something ; he 
 [ich a thing were, 
 
 indeed, in any way possible. But ardent words, excited, eager 
 welcomes, anil all those other circumstances that usually attend 
 upon the meeting of long-divided lovers were, in this case, clearly 
 impossible. Brooke felt Talbot's presence — Tall.)ot, who was 
 worth to him ten thousand like Dolores; so he could oidy tuke 
 refuge in the most commonplace conventi(jnalities. It is true, 
 Talbot could not understand Spanish ; but Talbot could under- 
 stand those tones of voice which form the universal and natural 
 language of man ; and if Brooke had felt ever so ftdl of eager 
 delight, he woukl have hesitated to manifest it under such very 
 delicate circumstances. 
 
 At length Brooke cleared his throat. 
 
 ' This,' said he, iu a solemn tone — ' this is indeed au unexpected 
 pleasure.' 
 
 Dolores sighed. 
 
 ' It is indeed, seitor,' she rei)lied, ' an unexpected, a most un- 
 e.yj>ected one.' 
 
 * It is indeed,' said Brooke, in quite a helpless way. 
 
 Saying this, he held out his hand. Dolores held out hers. 
 They shook hands. Then they cast hasty looks at one another. 
 
 ' I ho])e you have been quite well,' said Brooke. 
 
 'Oh, ipiite,' said Dolores ; ' and you, .seilor V 
 
 ' Oh, very well,' said Brooke ; ' very w'ell indeed.' 
 
 And now another pause succeeded. Botli of them were horribly 
 embarrassed. Each had the same feeling, but neither one knew 
 llie feeling of the other. Each, knew that a change had occurred, 
 hut neither knew that the same change had been experienced by 
 the other. Brooke knew himself false, but thought IJolores true ; 
 while Dolores had a similar feeling. Besides, this new love which 
 each had conceived and cherished made the old one seem a mis- 
 take — made them regard each other with aversion, and this meet- 
 ing as a calamity ; yet each felt bound to conceal these feelings, 
 aiul exhibit toward the other an impossible cordiality. All this 
 caused a wretched embarrassment and restraint, which each felt, 
 and for wliicli each took the blame, thinking the other altogether 
 true and innocent. 
 
 The deep feelings of the past wei'e yet strong in their hearts — 
 the innnediate past— and with these their hearts were full. Yet 
 these had to be concealed. Each felt bound to the other by a 
 solemn vow, and by every principle of duty and honour. They 
 luul exchanged vows of love and eternal fidelity. I'rom such 
 vows who could release them ? Yet the vows wi-re already 
 broken by each, and of this each was conscious. Ilail Brooke 
 met Dolores before this last scene wath Talbot, he might have 
 
 - 
 
 felt self-reproach, but he could not have felt such a sense of 
 uiuvorthiness. .For before that he liad, at least, kept a watch 
 upon his tongue, and iu words, at least, he had not told his love 
 
266 
 
 ,J CATTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 for another. But now \m word had gone forth, and he had 
 pledged himself to another, when there was a previous pledge to 
 Dolores. 
 
 Ijtit he had to say something. Dolores was silent. He thought 
 she was waiting for him to t'X])lain. 
 
 ' I — I—' he stammered — ' t have hunted— hunted you— all 
 tlirough Spain.' 
 
 This wjis the truth, for Brooke had been faithful to Dolores 
 nntil he liad met with Talbot. 
 
 Dolores was conscience-smitten by this proof of her fonuer 
 lover's fidelity. Slie hastened to excuse herself somehow. 
 
 ' I — I — ' she said, with an embarrassment equal to that of 
 Brooke — 'I thought you were in America.' 
 
 ' No ; I was in Cuba.' 
 
 ' I thought I had lost you,' said Dolores : * you ceased to 
 write,' 
 
 This sounded like the reproach of a faithful lover. Brooke 
 felt hurt. 
 
 * Oh no,' said he ; 'I wrote, but you ceased to answer.' 
 
 ' I tlunight something had happened,' said Dolores. 
 
 ' I thought so too,' said Bi-ooke. ' I never got your letters. 
 Where did you go V 
 
 Dolores jumj)ed at this question as giving a chance of relief. 
 So she began to give a long account of her life in Spain, detail- 
 ing minute incidents, and growing gradually calmer, more svlf- 
 possessed, and more observant of Brooke. She saw with satis- 
 faction that Brooke miule no demonstrations ; yet her satisfaction 
 was checked by the thought that perhaps he was deterred from 
 exhibiting the raptures of a lover by the jjresence of others- \\\ 
 the fear that he had been only too true, and that those rapturi-s 
 would yet be exhibited. She resolved that he should not have 
 an ''/pportunity. Yet how could she avoid him \ And thus she 
 thought, and still she went on talking. 
 
 The elFect of her story was a crushing one. She made no 
 mention of Ashby ; and Brooke concluded that she had been 
 true, while he had been false. And now what was he ? Clearly 
 false. Could he come back to Dolores ? C!ould he be what he 
 had been i Could he give up Talbot ? The thought was in- 
 tolerable. Never had any one been to him so dear as Talbot. 
 Never had Talbot been to him so dear as now. And yet was he 
 not in honour bound to Dolores I Honour ! and did not honour 
 bind him to Talbot ? 
 
 Such was the struggle within this unha])py man. 
 
 Almost at the same time Harry and Talbot had recognised each 
 other. 
 
 Talbot, Avho had stood unmoved at the presence of death, now 
 felt herself quail and grow all unnerved at the presence of llany. 
 
1 (J STL/: rx sp.i/y. 
 
 >.r->7 
 
 and he had 
 
 thought w:vi in- 
 
 lad recogmscil 
 
 r.ut then she had been strengthenod by lier new love for Brooke ; 
 now she was weakened by the reiuembranco of her lost love for 
 Harry. This was an orde.'d for which thero was no ontside in- 
 siiiration. The reniendr/aiice of h.'r ]>assioiiaiL' wonls to Urooke, 
 so lately nttorcd, so ardently answered, was strong within her. 
 And yt't here was one who held her promise, who could claim 
 licr as his own, who could take her away from i>rooke ; and \vh;it 
 conld she do ? 
 
 Harry, on the other hand, liad dared death for Katie ; fur her 
 lio had tried to fling away his life. This had been done in tht> 
 jnesence of his Sydney. Had she understood th.^t ? 8he eonld 
 not have understood it. Could he explain] Impossible I Could 
 lie tell the story of his falsity to this noble lady, whom he hid 
 known only to love, whom he had known also to revere ', And 
 this proud, this delicately nurtured girl had come from her home 
 for his sake, to suffer, to risk her life, to become a miserable 
 captive ! Was there not in this a stronger reason than ever why 
 lie should be true to her ] And yet, if he loved another better, 
 would it not be wrong to marry Sydney ? 
 
 All the tenderness of his heart rose up within him in one 
 strong, yearning thought of — Oh, Ktitie ! ]3ut all his honour, 
 liis ]n'ide, his manliness — all his i)ity, too. and his syinpathy — 
 made itself felt in a deep undertone of feeling— Oh, Sydney ! 
 tine and faithful ! 
 At last he was able to speak. 
 
 'Oh, Sydney,' said he, ' what bitter, bitter fortune has brought 
 YOU liere to this horrible ])lace — to so much misery (' 
 
 Talbot looked down. She could not look in his face. She 
 ft'lt unworthy of him. He seemed faithful still. She had seen 
 tlie act of his attacking Lopez, but had not understood it. She 
 tlionght him faithfid, in spite of all. 
 
 ' liitter !' said she slovvly. ' Jlitter ! yes, bitter indeed — bitter 
 was the fortune that brought me here !' 
 
 She could say no more. She was thinking only of tliat bitter 
 fortune which had brought her to a place where she might be 
 forever torn from Brooke ; where Brooke, too, had found one who 
 might tear liim from her. 
 
 But Harry understood this dilFerently. He detected in those 
 words a reflection U])on himself. He thought she alluded to her 
 long journey to him — when she had come so far, and had reached 
 her destination only to find him absent; when she hail waited 
 for days without finding any trace of him or hearing any word 
 from him, and at last had turned about on her lonely homeward 
 load. And yet he was blameless then. As far as that was con- 
 cerned, he could excuse himself ; he could ex[)!aiu all. Ho felt 
 so guilty in some things, that he was anxious to show his inno- 
 cence in other things where he liad not been to blame ; and so he 
 
268 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 liasteiu'd nioHt eagerly to f,'ivo a long ami an eloquent vindicntioii 
 of liiiu.st'lf, by expliiiuiii',' all about his journey to Kii<,'laM(l, ami 
 his return to JJarcelona, and iiis soarcli after her which had Icil 
 iiini to this. 
 
 And in all this Talbdt found only proofs of Harry's iniailfi'- 
 nble lidelity, lie had been true; ! She had been false! What 
 iiuw was there for lier to do ^ To saerilice this man/ Wliat! 
 after sueh love and loyalty? Or, on the other hand, to fjive up 
 lirooke / IJrooke !— <iiv'c uj) Brooke! Oh heavens! How was 
 that possible/ Would she not rather die than give u]) l>roiiki'( 
 When her own words to him were fresh in her memory, and 
 when his words of love to her were still ringing in her ears— at 
 Bueh a mojnent as this eould she think of giving up Brooke i 
 
 Such were the thoughts and feelings of these two. 
 
 Meanwhile Ashby, linding himself left alone by Dolores, stood 
 for a while wondering who her friend might be ; until at length, 
 finding tliat she was beginning to give him a detailed history »if 
 lier life, ho looked around in tlespair. And he saw Katie stand- 
 ing alone, where she had been left by Harry, near the fo(jt uf 
 the stairway; anil as all the others were engaged in their own 
 allairs, and, moreover, as his relations with Katie were of the 
 most intimate kind, he saw no other course open to him than to 
 a])proaeh her and converse with her. And at that moment ho 
 remendjercd that Katie IkuI in her possession — perhaps in lioi' 
 pocket — a certain letter which he had written to her only a few 
 days before, full of protestations of love ; in which Iw informed 
 lier that he was going to travel with her in the same train, in the 
 hope of seeing her at Burgos or Bayonue ; in which he urged her 
 to come to him, to be his wife; to set at defiance her hostile 
 guardian, and to unite herself with him. This seemed strange 
 to him now, when his mind was tilled with thoughts of Dolores, 
 and his heart was full of the love of J)olores. Even his resentment 
 against her had passed away. She had allowed herself to indulge 
 in a flirtation with his friend Kivers. Was that a crime I He, 
 on the other hand, had lost all love for her, and had given all his 
 heart to Dolores. Katie seemed to him now not repugnant as a 
 false one, but merely pitiable as a weak, childlike character. The 
 falsity now seemeil rather on his part than on hers He believed 
 that Harry had gone much farther in treachery than Katie. 
 Katie, he thought, was merely a weak-minded flirt ; wdiile Harry 
 had become a traitor in allownig himself to fall in love wit'a her. 
 Even for Harry he could now make some allowances ; and since 
 he hail found out his own feelings, he had less jealousy, and there- 
 fore less resentment against h's former friend. As for jealous}', 
 if he now had that feeling, it was all directed elsewhere — namely, 
 toward that stranger whose sudden ai)i)earance had so engrossed 
 ]>olores. 
 
 11 ' 
 I 
 
A CASTLE IX SPALW 
 
 1(0 
 
 In siicli u stiiti' of mind ;i,s this Aslil»y ;ulvivnr'e(l toward K:itie. 
 Now Kiltie liiul conio down with tht.- l'.\[)IX's,s purpose of soiiug 
 him, and with \wi mind full of a very pretty Hpeeoh Avhioh she 
 intended to make to him. l>ut the Hudden meeting,' of Hmry 
 with Talbot had rained other thoughts and feelings, which had 
 driven lier pretty speech altogether out of her mind. A bitter 
 jt'alou.sy alllicted her tender lieart. This lady was the Sydney 
 Talbot of whom he had told her, and who had come all the way 
 from ICngland on this |)erilous jo\irney to marry him. Would 
 «lie uow give him up? Impossible! And how could Harry 
 escape her i 
 
 As Ashby approached, Katie therefore liad but little thought 
 of him. Ashby also thought less of her than of Dolores. Who 
 was this stranger/ he thought. Why was he so familiar ? Why 
 (lid Dolores leave him so abruptly '. and why was she telling to 
 this stranger the whole story of her life ? 
 
 Thus Ashby and Katie met again. 
 
 Ashby had to say something, and so, as was natural, he took 
 refuge in conventionalitie- 
 
 ' 1 hope,' said he, ' that uo ill eilects have arisen from this recent 
 excitement.' 
 
 ' Uh no,' said Katie, in an abstracted tone. .She was trying to 
 listen to Talbot's words. They ilid not sound ])leasant, 
 
 Ashby also was trying to listen to Dolores. She seemed to him 
 to be altogether too familiar. 
 
 * I'm vei-y glad,' said Ashby. * I was afraid that this excitement 
 might have an injurious etl'ect.' 
 
 (Dolores was still giving an account of herself. It was uuworthy 
 of her !) 
 
 'Oh no,' said Katie, 'not at all.' 
 
 She heard Harry speak in an apologetical manner. It was very 
 hard to bear. Would he leave her for this lady ? 
 
 There was now a pause. 
 
 Ashby and Katie were both listening with all their might to 
 hear what was said by Dolores and by Harry respectively. 
 
 Ashby felt the necessity of saying something. 
 
 ' Very fine weather,' said he. 
 
 * Oh, very fine,' saitl Katie. 
 'A fine moon.' 
 
 ' Oh, very fine.' 
 
 At this mention of the moon, each thought of those moonbeams 
 which had streamed in through the narrow windows on those past 
 few nights — nights so memorable to each ; and each thought of 
 them with the same feelings. 
 
 Ashby tried to find something new to say. He thougdit 
 of the position in which they all were— its danger — their liability 
 to recapture— the necessity of flight, aud yet the diliiculty of 
 
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270 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPA IX. 
 
 duiu^' so— things which lie uud Dolores had just been cousicki- 
 
 'This,' said he, ' h a very embarrassiuff i)03ition.' 
 
 Katie by thi.s luulerstooil him to mean the relations wliich tlicy 
 bore to one another, and which had become somewhat confused 
 by her allair with llarry. .She thought this wjia Ashby's way uf 
 putting it. 
 
 fShe wighed. She looked at llarry and Talbot. They soenu-'l 
 coming to an understanding, llarry was certainly making an 
 explanation which seemed unnecessarily long. And hure was 
 Ashby hinting at an explanation with herself. She had forgotUii 
 all lier line speech with which she had come down. She knew 
 not wliat to say. She only felt a jealous fear about Harry, ami 
 another fear about an exphination with Ashby. 
 
 Ashby meanwhile thought nothing about Katie, but was full 
 of eagerness to learu what was going on between Dolores ami 
 Brooke. 
 
 And thus it was certainly an embarrassing situation. 
 
 There were three couples involved in this embarrassing situa- 
 tion, and among them all it is dillicult to say which was most 
 embarrassed, it was bad euou'di to meet with the old lover, hut 
 it was worse to feel that the eye of the new lover was upon tluiii. 
 Moreover, each new lover felt jealous of the old one; and tho 
 mind of each had thus to be distracted between two disconkint 
 anxieties. In short, it was, a.s Ashby hud well said, a most cui- 
 barrassiug situation. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of all this, a figure entered the hall 
 ■which attracted all eyes. I+. wiis a tigure of commanding im- 
 portance ; a man rather elderly, in the uniform of a genoral- 
 ollicer — all ablaze with gold. There was a universal shock at 
 such an api)arition. The tirst thought of everyone wa.*! that the 
 castle had been captured by some new enemy- -that this was tlio 
 leader, and that they all were prisoners. 
 
 But one by one, to Ashby, Harry, Brooke ; to Katie, Talbot, 
 and Dolores — came the recognition of the fact that under this 
 magnificent exterior lay concealed the person of their conii)anioii 
 and friend, the venerable and the virtuous liussell. 
 
 ' I want to look after something,' said he ; and with these wonls 
 Le went into the room vhere he had lirst been confined — uanu'ly, 
 the one opposite to that iu which the recent ceremony had tuktu 
 phice. 
 
,1 CASTLi: IX SPA IX. 
 
 271 
 
 , becu cousiik'i- 
 
 CIIAPTER LV. 
 
 now HARRY AND KATIK PFSfUSS THK SITUATION, AND A.SEH'.Y 
 TliLLS D0L0UE.>5 HER DUTV. 
 
 The sudden .ippearauce of llusscll broke the spell which had 
 rested upou all. 
 
 Talbot was the first to make a inoveiueut. 
 
 ' Excuse me for a few momeiits,' siiid she. * There are .some 
 wounde 1 men iuside who are in my care. 1 came out to get some 
 water for them. I must make haste.' 
 
 Saying these words, she left Harry, and went to a corner of 
 the apartment where there was a jar of water. Filling a veoocl 
 from this, she returned to the wounded. 
 
 Harry did not follow her. 
 
 Upou seeing this movement of Talbot, Katie withdrew from 
 Ashby. Ashljy did not seem to notice this, for he was still 
 watching Dolores. 
 
 Dolores now remarked to Brooke that she was just at that 
 time engaged in looking aftt.'r the defences of the castle, fur there 
 was serious danger of an injmediat^ attack by tlie enemy. 
 
 At this Brouke said nothing, bu merely bowed, and followed 
 Talbot to help her with the wounded men. 
 
 Dolores, upon this, cast a glance at Ashby and went out. 
 Ashby immediately follo\ve<l her. 
 
 U))ou this, Harry approached Katie. Neither said a word, 
 but, acting on one common imi>ulse, they went upstairs together 
 into the upjjer hall. As they thus went uji, Bussell came out 
 of the other room, and, seeing them ascending the stairs, he 
 followed them. 
 
 On reaching the top of the stairs, Harry anil Katie stood, and 
 Russell also stopped a little below. He wasn't prouil. He was 
 iiuxioiis for information. So he stood and listened to what they 
 had to say. 
 
 The two stood there in silence for some time, until at length 
 Katie spoke. 
 
 ' Isn't this horrible V said slie, with a heavy sigh. 
 
 llarr)' gave another sigh responsive to hers. 
 
 ' It's worse,' said Katie, ' than ever.* 
 
 Harry, with another sigli, allowed that it was. 
 
 ' i can't stay here,' said Katie, ' in this place ; and, what's 
 more, I won't stay. I'm free now, and I've made up my mind to 
 away.' 
 
 ' Will you ?' said Harry, in an eager voice. 
 
 ' Yes, I will,' Scaid Katie decidedly ; ' and I'll go all alone, 
 ^ou needn't come ; for of course you'll stay.' 
 
 go 
 
■■yfy 
 -I - 
 
 A CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 'Stay J' said llany — 'stay] and here — wheu you've g.mo 
 away ?' 
 
 ' Oil yes,' said Katie ; ' of course you'll stay here, with your 
 dear Syduey !' 
 
 Harry sighed. 
 
 ' But / won't stay,' continued Katie, after another pause ; 
 ' I'm going to leave ; and III walk back to the railway ;ill 
 alone.' 
 
 ' I think that would be a capital idea !' said Harry, in a tone of 
 great animation. 
 
 At this Katie burst into tears. 
 
 Harry was now ([uite distracted. lie caught h.er in his ;iniii 
 and kissed her over and over again. 
 
 ' You don't understand,' said he. ' I mean it would be a gdoil 
 idea to go ; but, of course, you sh;) Al not go alone.' 
 
 ' Yes, I will go alone,' said Kotie ; ' all alone. Yon don't caie 
 for me, now that vou've got j'oar Sydney. You don't care fur iw 
 a bit !' 
 
 'Care fur you !' cried Harry ; 'you're the only one, Katie, iu 
 all the world, that I do care for.' 
 
 Katie struggled away from his encircling arms. 
 
 'No,' said she ; 'you're not speaking the truth. Y' u'll leave 
 me, and say those same words to your Sydney.' 
 
 ' Ijother Sydney !' cried Harry, in unfeigned vexation. 
 
 At this, Katie, whose head had been for a moment averlod, 
 now turned her tearful eyes on him, and Harry once mor*. look 
 her in his arms. 
 
 ' But do you, after all,' said she — * do you, after all, care for lao 
 just a little I^i^, Harry V 
 
 ' (."are for you T cried Harry, with headlong impetuosity. ' 1 
 swear, Katie, that I love yau better than all the world. I will 
 give up everything for you. "Will you do as much for me V 
 
 ' Why — why — how can I help it i' said Katie. 
 
 At this reply Harry kissed her again. 
 
 * You — you — offered your life for me,' saiil Katie, in tcartul 
 agitation ; 'and didn't I almost give my life for you, you dear okl 
 boy ? You don't know all yet. You don't know that it was for 
 your sake only, and to save you from death, that I consented tu 
 sacrifice myself to that awful man.' 
 
 Katie now told Harry the whole story, and the effect of lliis 
 narration was only to intensify the ardent love of this volatik' 
 youth. AVhile he had been face to face with Talbot, he Iwnl 
 untlergone a severe struggle from conllicting emotions and im- 
 pulses. But, now Katie was before him, Talbot was present n^j 
 longer ; and Katie was so sweet, so tender, so trustful, and, above 
 all, she had such a story to tell, that he could not resist. Talbot;) 
 claims on him became less and leas perceptible iu those new cues 
 
 
A CASTU: IX SPJ/X. 
 
 273 
 
 arry, iu a tone of 
 
 which Kate presented ; aud so the consequence was that ho 
 yieliled up everything — his honour, his loyalty, aud his duty. 
 
 ' Katie,' said he, as he pressed her in his arms, * I love you 
 alone — I'll give up all for you. l^et us fly from this jjlace ; let ua 
 fly ! Let us not wait here where these other people are.' 
 
 ' Fly r said Katie ; ' where i' 
 
 * Yes ; fly !' 
 
 ' But how can we get out ? Shall we go out boldly through 
 the gate V 
 
 Suddenly some one came between them, and a voice chimed 
 into the conversation. 
 
 * Yes,' said the voice, * fly ! That's the ticket. There's a devil 
 here— a she-devil. I'll show you the way out. If you want to 
 get oflf without Ashby seeing jou, I'll sliow you how ; I know 
 the way. It's a secret ))assagp. That's how I escaped the last 
 time ; and I'll take you to it when it gets dark.' 
 
 It was Eussell who had thus interposed. Ilarry and Katie 
 showed^no resentment whatever at his intrusion, but caught at 
 his suggestion. Russell alluded with clumsy and ratlier vulgar 
 playfulness to their tender relr/ions, aud oflerod, as guardian, to 
 give Katie away the moment they should find a parson. 
 
 Meanwhile Dolores had gone out into the courtyard, followed 
 by Ashby. There they stopped, and looked at one another in 
 silence. 
 
 ' Who's that fellow V said Ashby at last. 
 
 Dolores explained that he was a friend of hers who had been 
 of great help in Cuba. She did not tell how tender their rela- 
 tions had been. 
 
 ' H'm !' said Ashby. ' Never heard of him before. You 
 seemed very intimate.' 
 
 ' He saved my life,' said Dolores. 
 
 ' Saved your life V 
 .Dolores sighed. 
 
 Then more of her story escaped her. At last the whole tr'th 
 came out. 
 
 ' What !' said Ashby ; * and so you were engaged. In fact, the 
 fellow is an old lover.' 
 
 Dolores said nothing, but looked at Ashby with mournful 
 iucjuiry, as though appealing to him to know what she ought 
 to do. 
 
 * How did he get here V asked Ashby calmly. 
 
 ' He has been seeking for me all these years, and traced me 
 here, and was captured.' 
 
 ' H'm ! that's devotion,' said Ashby. ' And who's his friend— 
 the girl that was disguised as priest V 
 
 * I don't know.' 
 
 * So she's a girl,' said Ashby ; 'and so that's the reason she 
 
 18 
 
274 
 
 A CASTLE iX SPALX. 
 
 wouldn't mArry Lopez and Katie. A most infernally pretty Kill. 
 Who is she, did you say /' 
 
 * I don't know.' 
 
 ' Diiln't your— your friend tell you V 
 
 ♦No.' 
 
 It may be supposed that A shby should have known IJroukc's 
 feeliilfgs towania this ' priest ' by his devotion to her in .saving; 
 her life. But it was not so. Brooke's desperate act in <lini,'iii;r 
 himself before Lojiez seemed to Ashby merely an accident cuiiso- 
 quent upon his struggle with his eaptoi-s. Besides, the attack nf 
 Dolores and her six Carlists had followed so closely upon this, 
 that all had become confused toj^ether. 
 
 While Ashby had been asking these few questions, Doldresii'- 
 mained looking at him with that sanemournfiil incpiiry. Asiil»y 
 noticed it, for he looked at her several times, though each iinjo 
 he looked away elsewhere, lie was turning over all this in lii.s 
 mind. 
 
 At length he looked at her once more, and took her hands in liis. 
 
 ' Dolores,' said he, ' I have maile up my mind.' 
 
 * What r said she, in a faint voice, looking up at him in awful 
 suspense. 
 
 ' I will not give you up ! That's decided. You nmst dismiss 
 the idea from your miiul.' 
 
 In an instant the shadow of anxiety fled from the face of 
 Dolores, followed by a flash of joy like a sunbeam. She said not 
 a word, but Ashby saw that rush of happiness, and all his own 
 iiatiu'e responded. 
 
 * You must come with me,' said he. * That felloM' may look out 
 for himself.' 
 
 * But — but — * said Dolores. She paused. 
 'Whati' 
 
 ' We — we — are — engaged.' 
 
 ' Pooh !' said Ashby. ' That's an old story.* , 
 
 ' But— but ' 
 
 ' Well V said Ashby impatiently, as she paused. 
 
 * He — he — saved my life once.' 
 
 ' He be hanged !' said Ashby. * I'll save your life fifty tinics. 
 Y'>u mustn't think of that man again. Do you hear, Dolores I' 
 
 * Yes,' said J)olores meekly ; ' but I only want to satisfy my 
 conscience, and find out my duty.' 
 
 * Conscience ? Duty i Ah !' repeated Ashby. * Well, then, 
 I'll tell you what to think of — think of vie / Here was I, eu- 
 
 f[aged to that English maiden. You have won my love. You 
 jave made me inditferent to her. You have made my love grow 
 stronger and stronger every moment, until now I'm ready to give 
 up everything for you. Your duty, therefore, is to be true to 
 me, as I will be true to you.' 
 
lally pretty Kill. 
 
 A CATTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 375 
 
 Dolores looked up again with her face in a rapttiro of gladness, 
 and Atshby picsaed hur hands more closely iu hia. Thuu they 
 walked away to inspect the fortilications. 
 
 How may look out 
 
 CHAPTER LA'I. 
 
 I.N WllJf II TIIEltn IS A TKltimiLi: CALAMITY. 
 
 UrssKLi/.s advent among the embarrassed lovers can easily ho cx- 
 plaineil. Seated at tho gate in the uniform of a general, with 
 },'oigoous array <>f blue imd gold, with a sword in his manly 
 hand, and armed warriors around him, his martial soul had 
 <,'iadually h)st its terrors, and his mind was at leisure io think of 
 other thmgs. 
 
 I'irst among these other things was that precious package 
 v;hich he had concealed. Now was the timo for him to look 
 them up and regain possession. None but friends Avero now in 
 the castle. Those bonds were now safer in his own possession 
 than anywhere else, and never could ho hope for a better chance 
 than this. As for Jlita, she mui^t have fled, he thought, with 
 the other fugitives, and with her had lied his worst fear. 
 
 With such thoughts as these, the martial Russell sheathed 
 his warlike sword and walked back again toward the castle. 
 Here ho entered tho hall where the others were talking, and, 
 passing through, entered the well-reraembered room where ho 
 had been confined. Ho looked all around. lie was alone. Ho 
 walked to tho chimney. He looKed up. Through tho broad 
 opening at the top he saw the sky. In the gloom of the shaft 
 he saw also that opening in which he had placed the precious 
 parcel. 
 
 All seemed as it had been, and he felt convinced that his 
 papers were safe. Further examination, however, was, just 
 now, not advisable. He would have to light a torch, and some 
 of his friends might come in just as he was going up or coming 
 down. So he concluded to defer his search until they had gone 
 out of the way a little, until which time the package would be 
 quite safe. In the meantime ho thought he would go back and 
 hear what they were all talking about. 
 
 Coming back again, he saw them all going in different direc- 
 tions, and, as a matter of course, he followed those who were 
 nearest and dearest, namely, Katie and Harry. He stood and 
 listened with a benignant smile to their loving words. He 
 gazed complacently upon their outrageous and unbounded 
 spooning. He had no objection now to anyone whom Katie 
 might choose. To Ashby he felt repugnance on account of 
 
 18—2 
 
276 
 
 A CAST/./- AV SPA/X. 
 
 former quarrels, but to Harry none wliiitcvcr. Even to A-lil)y 
 lie would liavo yielded, for prejudices die out quickly inaC.istIo 
 of Spain. And so, as \vc liavo seen, the ^ood Rusflcll interrupted 
 ilie liappy lovers in a paternal way, and did the ' heavy fatlier' 
 to perfection — with outstretched hands, moistened eyes, and 
 ' Bless you, hless you, my children !' 
 
 The subject of flight Avas already before them, and this was 
 for Russell the most acceptable possible. ITc felt that he could 
 pivc valuable information, since he himself had been afuyitivo. 
 I'lvcry step of the way was well remembered by him. In a few 
 minutes ho had made them acquainted M'ith the story of Ms 
 former escape, and the adventurous Harry at once decided tliut 
 this would ])o the very way by which he could carry off Ratio 
 and himself from their embarrassing surroundings. For various 
 reasons ho wished to go away in a quiet, unobtrusive manner, 
 without ostentation or vain display, and in no other way could 
 ho do it so effectually as in this. 
 
 ; Harry at onco decided that his best course would be to spend 
 the hours of closing day in nuiking himself acquainted with this 
 passage. He did not feel inclined to be altogether dependent 
 upon Uussell. Circumstances might arise which might make it 
 desirable to tly without him. That good man might become 
 suddenly unwell, or there might be an attack by the enemy, or 
 other things might occur, under any of which circumstances 
 Harry would have to rely upon himself alone. 
 
 Russell had no objections ; in fact, he himself preferred going 
 over the way once more. About this there was no diflicnity, 
 There were very few in the castle, and these had no idea of 
 watching each other ; in fact, each party seemed only too 
 anxious to keep out of the other's way. 
 
 Katie now retired to that room which she had last occupied, 
 and Harry went off with Russell. The daylight befriended 
 them so that they were able to find their way along the lower 
 passages, until at length they came to the opening under the 
 arch of the ruined bridge. Here they ])oth went down one side 
 of the chasm and up the other until they both reached the tower. 
 Harry was delighted with this discovery, and felt fully capal)le 
 of traversing the path himself, even in the darkest night ; while 
 Russell, though a little out of breath, was quite willing to bear 
 the fatigue in return for the additional knowledge he had 
 gained. 
 
 On regaining the castle, Harry went to tell Katie the result, 
 and to prepare her for their coming flight. 
 
 Russell now had leisure to attend to the great •work of secur- 
 ing the hidden treasure. He decided that he ought to do this 
 in perfect; secrecy, so that none of his friends should know where 
 he was going, or even suspect it. 
 
.1 CASTLE IX SPA/X. 
 
 V7 
 
 11 Katie the result, 
 
 First oC [ill, he followed Harry to the upper story, where ho 
 took !in un'octioniitc leave of liim. Tlion lio i)rowlo(l ahoiit 
 until he discovered Asiihy, ■nvIio was with Dolores in a remote 
 part of the courtyard. The six Carl'sts were still at the gate. 
 The other two inmates of the cavtie, namely, Jlrooko and 
 Talbot, were in the looni in which tlio recent stormy events IkhI 
 taken place. They had been attendini; to the wounds of the 
 prisoners, and were still so engaged that they did not look 
 uj) as Russell entered, lie said nothing, but hastily retreated, 
 and went into the opposite room — the very one in which 
 l»c was to conduct his operations. But he was too cautious 
 to begin just yet ; so ho Avaited, and at length had the satis- 
 faction of seeing these two go downstairs and out of tho 
 castle. 
 
 And now at last the time had come. There was no eye to 
 behold him, and no one to .suspect. 
 
 An old torch was in the lireplacc. This ho picked up, and 
 then going back to ihc door, looked all around stealthily and 
 warily. All was still. 
 
 Thereupon he returned. His manly heart Avas throbbing fast 
 —violently, even painfull}-. The sense of loneliness Avas op- 
 pressive. Had his purpose been less im])ortant, he Avould cer- 
 tainly have turned and tied. But too much Avas at stake. Be- 
 fore him there arose the vision of that vast treasure — thirty- 
 thousand pounds — and its attraction Avas irresistible. He must 
 go forAvard ; and noAV Avas tho time to Avin, or never. 
 
 He stood for a moment gathering up his courage. 
 
 What if Rita should bo concealed somewhere up there ! 
 
 Such v.as the aAvful thought that suddenly occurred to him 
 and made him quail. 
 
 The idea suggested itself of going back to Harry and getting 
 his aid. But no, that Avould never do. He Avould let it bo 
 supposed that these bonds had been taken from him. If ho 
 Avcre to tell his secret to Harry, all Avould be lost. No ; ho 
 must go, and alone. 
 
 Once more he Avent to the door and listened. All Avas still. 
 
 He noAV nerved himself up for a supreme effort. If he Avero 
 to delay any longer, some of them would be sure to return. Now 
 or never. 
 
 He struck a match against the stone floor. It kindled. 
 
 In another moment the torch Avas blazing brightly : and, 
 holding this in one hand, Russell used his other hand to clamber 
 up the projecting stones. 
 
 Up he went, higher and highui*. 
 
 And now he reached the opening, and his knee was resting 
 upon it, and he Avas just about to raise the torch so as to peer 
 in. 
 
378 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPA IX. 
 
 At tliat instant there was a sudden rush, and a sprin{:f, th.it 
 8ont a thrill of sl)arp agony to liis heart. A pair of stioii;,' arms 
 ■\vcro Hung aliout lii»n. 'i'lie torch fell, and tlie smoke hliiidid 
 li is eyes, lie felt himself dragged forward helplessly i ito tlio 
 gloomy hole, while a fierce whisper hissed into his despairing 
 cars words that made him almost die out of sheer fright : 
 
 ' IJ- h ! haso traidor, I hall'a you ! I halfa you ! You salla not 
 seapp . from llita again !' 
 
 At tins llussell gave a Avild, long, piercing yell, and fainted. 
 
 CIIArXER LVII. 
 
 IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALDOT PREPARE TO BID EACH 
 OTHER AN ETERNAL FAREWELL. 
 
 On turning away from that eventful meeting with old friends, 
 both JJroolce and Talbot felt very greatly depressed, and neither 
 could say a word. This feeling was experienced by both to an 
 ecpial degree ; and neither of them could see any ])0ssible wiiy 
 out of this uewdilHculty that could commend itself to au honour- 
 able mind. 
 
 The conversation with Harry had (juite overwhehned Talbot. 
 He had been so eager to explain, and the explanations had shown 
 such fidelity on his part, he hail seemed so true, and his vindica- 
 tion had been so com])lete, that she had not one word to say. 
 For the fact remained plain before her mind that the cause of his 
 failing to receive her at Barcelona was his very eagerness to meet 
 her, which had sent him flying in all haste to England. If lie 
 had ever been in fault, the fault was one which had arisen from 
 excess of love. To a generous mind like Talbot's this was a most 
 distressing thought. 
 
 Still, there was another thought which was worse, and that was 
 this — namely, that Harry could no longer satisfy her. Whetlu i' 
 she had ever really loved him or not, she did not now stop to 
 in(piire, nor was such an inquiry worth making. It was only too 
 evident now that Harry had declined to nothingness, and less 
 than nothingness, in her heart, and that in the course of the 
 tragical events of the last few days Brooke had grown to be more 
 than all the woild to her. 
 
 The feelings and thoughts of Brooke were of the same descrip- 
 tion. It had seemed to him that Dolores had been faithful; and 
 as he had all along felt firmly convinced of her passionate love 
 for himself and unalterable fidelity, it never entered into his head 
 now to suspect any change in her. At the same time, he felt 
 that, whether he had ever loved her formerly or not, he certainly 
 
A CASTLE rX SPAIN. 
 
 279 
 
 liail no ft'eHnifof love fui' Irt how ; for Tiilbot had utterly t-iraood 
 that former iina;^'o, and all tho world would uow bu as uutluu}^ to 
 him without Talbot. 
 
 For some time they devoted tliem.selves to the wounded men, 
 aud then, having finished this task, they retreated to the farthest 
 cud of the room. Here there was a nule bench, upon which thoy 
 seated themselves, aud renniined thus for a long time in utter 
 silence. 
 
 * You saw my meeting with — with tliat — young lady,' said 
 Brooke at last. ' Did you understand who it wixaI It was — 
 Dolores.' 
 
 * I know,' said Talbot, with a heavy sigh. ' And did you observe 
 my meeting with that gentleman ] Did you understand that I' 
 
 ' What !' cried Brooke, in amazement at the suggestio-. which 
 was conveyed by Talbot's words, lie had not had leis ire to 
 notice or think of anyone excejjt Dolores. 
 
 * It was !Mr. Ilivers,' said Talbot. 
 
 ' The devil !' cried Brooke, with a groan. 
 
 At this Talbot very properly said nothing. 
 
 'Well,' said Brooke, after a long jjause, 'I didn't know that 
 things could possibly be more infernally embarrassing or more 
 confoundedly complicated than they were ; but this is certainly a 
 httle beyond what I dreamed of. And — and ' 
 
 He turned with a despairing look and took Talbot's hand. 
 
 'What, Brooke]' 
 
 'Am — am I — to — to — congratulate you— and all that?' he 
 stammered. 
 
 ' What !' said Talbot reproachfully. 
 
 Brooke was silent. 
 
 ' Oh, Brooke,' said Talbot, ' what are wo to do V 
 
 ' Give it up,' said Brooke, in a dismal voice. 
 
 ' This,' continued Talbot, ' is worse than when we were 
 prisoners, and dying by turns for one another.' 
 
 ' I wish,' said Brooke, * that I had died when I wanted to.' 
 
 ' And must we now give one another up V sighed Talbot. 
 
 * Don't see what else we can do,* said JSrooke. ' We've got to 
 keep our confounded promises.* 
 
 ' What promises, Brooke {' 
 
 * I don't know.* 
 'Brooke!' 
 'What?* 
 
 ' What ought I to do ?' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 ' Ought I to keep my promise V 
 
 * Which promise V 
 
 'Why, my promise to — to Mr. Rivers]' 
 
 ' D — n Mr. Rivers !' growled Brooke, turning away. 
 
;8o 
 
 A CASTL/: AV .9/1 1 AV. 
 
 *'rii:it,' said 'rallmt mildly, * is not au aiiswiT to my <|iu'sti(iii.' 
 
 'JJut how do 1 kuowT waid lliookc in a voice liKo u wailiiiL' 
 child. 
 
 ' Hut how can I / how can I /' crie<l 'I'alhot. * And when //o// 
 ftie hwc—f/ou, IJrookc, who know all my heart ! Can I give }<mi 
 up I I cannot ! Vou niay |i,'ive me tip. if yon like.' 
 
 ' Why don't you .say, if I oiii /' naid Brooke. 
 
 'Oh— any way,' said Taibot wearily. 
 
 There was another silence. 
 
 'Marry ///;/*/' cried Talbot at last, break in fjj the silence witli 
 vehement abruptness. ' 1 cannot ! I cannot! It wouhl be wicked. 
 I should desecrate the holy sacrament. I could not utter tlmt 
 vow before the holy altar. Never ! Vet I can't stay here, wlu if 
 he is. Jle will be wishing to see me. lie will be cominfj soon- 
 he may be coming now. I will not see him. 1 will not spiak 
 with him again. I will.' write to him. 1 will leave this i»lacL', 
 aud at once.' 
 
 * Leave this place !' repeated Brooke. * Where can you go .'' 
 ' Why, I'll go home,' said Talbot firmly. 
 
 ' Home I' 
 
 * Ves.' 
 
 ' JIow can you ? You don't know the way.' 
 
 * I know one place where 1 can go — to that tower — that swict 
 tower ; it is not far away ; it must be easy to get there. 1 will 
 go there — there, IJrooke, where 1 lirat became acc^uainted with 
 you ; aud then ' 
 
 Here Talbot paused, and turned away her heail. 
 
 'But you can t live there,' said Brooke in a harsh voice. 
 
 * I can find my way back to the road,' said Talbot in a tremulous 
 tone — *to the road where I first met you, Brooke ; and then- 
 why, then 1 shall be no worse off than when you found me aud 
 iissisted me.' 
 
 ' It's all uouseuse,' said Brooke ; ' you can't go aloiie.' 
 
 ' Ves, I can.' 
 
 ' You'll be taken prisoner.' 
 
 ' I don't care.' 
 
 * Or, if not, you'll die of starvation.' 
 
 * Very well,' said Talbot in a calm voice, and looking at Brooke 
 out of serene eyes, with a face from which all traces of emotion 
 had de])arted — ' very well ; I liave already showed that I am not 
 afraid of death ; and death by starvation is not more terrible than 
 deatli by bullets.' 
 
 Brooke looked at her for a moment in silence, and then said : 
 
 * You are not in earnest V 
 
 * I am in earnest,' said Talbot, looking at him fixedly, ami 
 speaking in a resolute tone — * I am in earnest, and I mean to go 
 this very night.' 
 
A CAS Tin AV SPA IX. 
 
 :8i 
 
 e can you go i 
 
 llrooko looked away, drew a long bicutli, and wubsidcd into 
 .silence. 
 
 ' How can you find the way I' he askeil at lengtli, iu a grulV 
 voice, and without looking up. 
 
 * I don't know/wiid 'rall)ot ; 'I can trv again, as I tried la-fore.' 
 iJrooke looked up hajstily. tlien looknl away, and liiially waitl : 
 
 * I tinnk, Talbot, you might ask me to show you the way.' 
 
 At tluH Talbut'H face Mushed, and all her expression was sud- 
 deidy changed from one of dull dejection to animation and 
 delight. 
 
 ' Will you V she asked breathlessly. 
 
 *Oh yes,' said Jhooke, 'that isn't much to do. Oh yes, I can 
 easily show yon the way to the tower. After all, it is as safe 
 there as here ; and if you are tleteriained to go, why, we can start, 
 you know— at any time, you know.' 
 
 'But will you— can you— will you, really T said Talbot, who 
 seemed quite overwhelmed at this unexpected oiler. ' Then you 
 have your human weakness, after all, have you, Urooke / Vou 
 will not sacritice me to a punctilio, will you i you will not let 
 your i)oor Talbot go away all alone /' 
 
 * No,' said lirooke softly, ' I will not let my Talbot go away all 
 alone.' 
 
 Talbot ca.st a swift glance at him, as if to read his son). 
 Brooke's eye met hers, but only for an instant. Then he looked 
 awav. Again there Wi\s (piick and active within him that old 
 vigilant feeling that ke))t him on guard against being surj vised 
 and overpowered by passion. Within his heart there had aluady 
 been a fierce struggle between love and honour. Love had once 
 conquered, autl that completely ; but the appearance of Dolores 
 had roused his conscience, and made him once more aware of the 
 bond that lay in his plighted word. Could he again break that 
 word i Could he .sacrifice his honour for good almost in the very 
 presence of her whom he supposed to be his loving and faithful 
 Dolores i Could he do such a deeil as this, and sully his soul even 
 for Talbot i Yet, on the other hand, how could he bring himself 
 to give her up i Give her up — the 'lad Talbot,' whom he loved 
 as he had never loved any other human being ! How could he i 
 And thus love drew him impetuously in one direction, while duty 
 sternly and imperiously drove him back ; and so there went on 
 iu the breast of this newspaper correspondent a struggle the like 
 of which does not often come within the experience of gentlemen 
 of the press. 
 
 ' You will see me as far as the tower V said Talbot pathetically. 
 
 ' Yes,' murmured Brooke. 
 
 ' And there,' continued Talbot, in the same tone, * we can say 
 to one another our last farewells.' 
 
 Brooke said nothing. The struggle still raged within him, and 
 
282 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 (-•^=' 
 
 was as far from a decisive eiul as ever. The prospect of parliiii^f 
 with Talbot iilled hiiu with, a sense of horrible desolation, and 
 the one idea now in his mind Avas that of accompanying lioi- 
 wherever she might go. He did not look far into the future. 
 His plans were bounded by that tower to which Talbot was 
 going. This much he might do without any hesitation. It 
 seemed to him no more than Talbot's duo. She only wanted to 
 go as far as that. She wished to be out of the reach of Rivers. 
 She didn't know the way there. He could certainly help lior 
 thus far ; in fact, it would be impossible for him not to do that 
 much. If Dolores herself were present, he thought, she could 
 not object ; in fact, she could do nothing else but ap]nove. 
 
 Silence now followed, which lasted for some time, and at length 
 Talbot said, with a heavy sigh : 
 
 ' How strange it is, and how sad ! isn't it, Brooke V 
 
 * What ?' said Brooke. 
 ' To bid good-bye.' 
 Brooke was silent. 
 
 *To bid good-bye,' repeated Talbot, 'and never meet again !' 
 Brooke drew a long breath, looked at Talbot, and then looked 
 away. 
 
 « Shall we Brooke V asked Talbot. 
 
 ' Shall we what V said Brooke harshly. 
 
 ' Shall we ever meet again V 
 
 ' How do I know ]' said Brooke snappishly. 
 
 * And yet you gave your life for me,' said Talbot pensively. 
 
 * I didn't,' said Brooke. ' It was you that gave your life 
 for me.' 
 
 ' The otl'er was made,' said Talbot mournfully, ' but it wasn't 
 accepted. J wish now that the offer had been accepted.' 
 
 Brooke raised his head and looked at her with liis pale, haggard 
 face, whereon was still the impression of that great agony through 
 which he had so lately passed, He looked at her with all his 
 unspeakable love in his earnest, yearning gaze. 
 
 ' Do you really wish that, Talbot V 
 
 ' I do,' said she sadly. 
 
 ' Oh, my darling !' cried Brooke — ' my own love, and my only 
 love ! What shall I do l Help me to decide.' 
 
 He caught her in his ai'ms, and held her pressed convul- 
 sively to his heart, while Talbot laid her head on his shoulder 
 aiid wept. 
 
 At length they rose to go. 
 
 Brooke was conscious of a sense of profound relief as he went 
 out of the castle and away from Dolores. 
 
 On reaching the gate, Brooke exi)lained to the guard that he and 
 the lady were going out for a little walk. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALV. 283 
 
 The guard suggested that there miglit be danger. 
 
 Brooke said that he was not going far away, and that he wouUl 
 be back. In this he was not deceiving tlieni, for he himself 
 thought that he would be coming back aurain. J [e luid a vai'ue 
 idea of kee})iug Talbot in the tower, and conveying her food, etc., 
 from the castle, as he liad done once before. 
 
 lie now passed through the gates, accompanied by Talbot. The 
 course wliich he took was the same that he had taken ou the 
 occasion of his tirst visit to the Carlists in his disguise of ]n-iest. 
 After walking for some distance they descended into the chasm, 
 and at length reached the bottom. By this time it was dusk, and 
 twilight was coming ou rapidly. 
 
 They then began the ascent, and reached the tower without 
 auy difficulty. 
 
 Here they paused to take breath. 
 
 But no sooner had they stood still than they were aware of a 
 noise without. It was a noise rather distant, yet well deliued, 
 and sounded as if a multitude were approaching the place. 
 
 * Some one's coming,' said Talbot. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Brooke : ' we must go back.' 
 
 They liurried back. But as they stood at the opening they 
 heard something which once more startled them. 
 
 There were voices and footsteps down the chasm, as of some one 
 coming up the pathway. 
 
 * We are pursued !' said Brooke. 
 
 ' We are captured !' said Talbot ; and then she added, as she 
 took Brooke's hand in hers, ' But oh, Brooke, how I should love 
 to be captured, if you are only captured with me !' 
 
 Brooke said nothing, but a thrill of joy passed through him at 
 the thought. 
 
 ove, and my only 
 
 CHAPTER LVIir. 
 
 IX WHICH SOME OLD FRIENDS REAPPEAll. 
 
 Dolores and Ashby had experienced none of that inner conflict 
 that had disturbed the souls of Brooke and Talbot, for Ashby 
 had been prompt in decision, and had taken all responsibility from 
 Dolores. She meekly ac(iuiesced in his decision, was all the 
 happier for it, and prepared with the briskness of a bird to carry 
 out their purpose of flight. She led Ashby down by the same 
 way through which she had formerly conducted * his Majesty,' 
 starting from that lower room in which Ashby had bee:; confined. 
 Had she gone from one of the upper rooms, they might, jierhaps, 
 have encountered the lurking Rita, and thus have rescued the 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 % 
 
 unhappy llussell from lii.s vep.<:(eful captor and from lii.s comin;^ 
 woe. But such was not to be their lot. It was from the lower 
 room that they started ; and on they went, to the no small ama/.ii- 
 meut of Ash by, throuf,di all those intricate ways, until at lon^tli 
 they emerged from the interior, ami found Ihemselves in tlio 
 chasm. Here the moon was shining, as it iiad been during all 
 the eventful days in which all these wonderful and authentii.' 
 adventures had been taking i)lr.ce, and gave them ample liglit by 
 which to find the path. Their way lay along the lower part of 
 the chasm, where the brook was foaming and bubbling and dash- 
 ing on its way. Before long they reached the place where the 
 path ascended toward the tower. Up this they proceeded. 
 
 As they went up they heard voices. Thus far they had boon 
 talking with one another quite merrily and carelessly, but tlieso 
 sounds at once arrested them. They stopped for a moment and 
 listened in deep anxiety. 
 
 The sound of the voices seemed to draw nearer, and to come 
 up from some point in the pathway behind them, as though others 
 were advancing in the same direction. 
 
 * We are pursued,' said Dolores. 
 
 ' Who would pursue us V said Ashby. 
 
 ' Mr. J3rooke,' said Dolores, in a tone of alarm. ' It must be 
 Mr. Brooke. He has been looking for me. He has seen us, and 
 is ]nirsuing us/ 
 
 Ashby muttered a curse. 
 
 * Confound him !' said he. * Let him keep his distance ! Wo 
 must hurry on faster.' 
 
 They hurried on. 
 
 In a few moments they had reached the tower. Inside that 
 tower were Brooke and Talbot, who had reached it some tinni 
 before, and now heard the sounds made by these new-comers, 
 tho'igh the darkness of the interior prevented them from seeing 
 who they were. On entering, Dolores drew Ashby. carefully on 
 one side. Brooke and Talbot waited in breathless suspense. 
 
 But now other sounds startled the occupants of tlie towei' — tlio 
 sounds as of an advancing crowd. Dolores clung in terror to 
 Ashby, and drew him still farther on one side. 
 
 They were caught — that was plain. They could neither ad- 
 vance nor retreat ; for now already they heard new-comers at t!ie 
 o])ening through which they had just passed. They shrank back 
 still fart ler, and Dolores clung more closely to Ashby. 
 
 Thes' new-comers, however, were not very formidable. Tlicy 
 were Uijrely Harry and Katie. 
 
 Hariy had waited for some time in expectation of being joined 
 by Russell. To his surprise, that worthy person did not put in an 
 appearance. He could not accouni for this, and finally con- 
 cluded that Eussell must have gone ahead, so as to take his time 
 
 m 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 28: 
 
 from hi^ coiuin,;' 
 from tho lower 
 no small smia/.e- 
 s, uiitil at lcu,ii;th 
 liemselves iu tlio 
 d been (lurii)g all 
 ul auil anthentio 
 w\ fimple \v^\\i I'V 
 ,lie lower i)art of 
 ^bbliug and dash- 
 place where the 
 ' pi'occeded. 
 ir they had been 
 relessly, but these 
 loi* a moment and 
 
 arer, and to conic 
 a, as though others 
 
 rm. * It must be 
 Le has secu us, and 
 
 lis diiitance ! We 
 
 )wer. Inside that 
 2hed it some time 
 these new-comers, 
 
 them from secin:-,' 
 ^shby^ carefully ou 
 less suspense. 
 
 of the tower— tho 
 Icluug in terror to 
 
 could neither ad- 
 new-comers at tho 
 They shrank back 
 Ashby. 
 formidable. They 
 
 lion of being joined 
 did not put in an 
 ,, and finally con- 
 las to take his tmie 
 
 about it and .=!ave himself by daylight. In this belief Harry 
 resolved to delay no longer, and, congratulating himself that he 
 knew the way so well, ho started off with Katie. 
 
 He went with all the caution iu the world, tirst reconnoitring 
 to see that no one was within view, and tlien, ou reaching the 
 side-door which gave entivance to the cellai's, he cautioned Katie 
 to keep silence. In this way they went on silently enough, until 
 they emerged from the opening. Then they began to descend 
 the chasm, and here Harry felt safe. On their way down and up 
 they talked and laughed (juite freely, and these were the voices 
 which had startled their predecessors. 
 
 At length they reached the tower and clambered in. The 
 moment they found themselves inside they were startled by 
 those noises which had already terrified the others, and which 
 had now drawn much nearer. 
 
 Katie gave a low cry of terror, and stood trembling in every 
 limb. 
 
 Harry was quite bewildered at this sudden and unexpected 
 shock. For a moment he thought of flight ; but that was im- 
 jjossible, for Katie, iu her terror, was almost fainting, and he had 
 to support her while she clung breathlessly to him. And so they 
 stood, unable to move. 
 
 The noises were now just outside — voices, cries, songs, and wild 
 laughter — all the indications of a lawless crowd. 
 
 Suddenly some one burst inside. 
 
 ' Ha !' he cried, in Spanish, ' here it is, but it's all dark. 
 Bring lights, some one. We must wait here till the others come 
 round to the front ; but there's no reason why we shouldn't have 
 lights. We can't be seen from the castle : the walls here are too 
 thick to be transparent. It's just the place for a little supper.' 
 
 A number of others now came forward o,nd entered. The fugi- 
 tives stood clinging to one another as before, expecting the worst, 
 and awaiting with intense anxiety the moment when lights would 
 be introduced. 
 
 There was now the flash of sudden flames — some of them were 
 striking matches. The flames lea])ed forth, and soon half a dozen 
 torches were kindled, and then, blazing and smoking, they were 
 held aloft, throwing a blight light upon the whole interior ; while 
 those who held them looked around without any other purpos?, 
 jnst then, than to find some convenient place where theymighc 
 place them, so as to save themselves the trouble of holding 
 them. 
 
 In that one instant the whole scene stood revealed. 
 
 There stood Brooke, with Talbot clinging to him ; there Harry, 
 with his arms round Katie : and there Ashby, supporting Dolores. 
 And as Ashby and Harry stared at these noisy new-comers, they 
 saw the familiar face of no less a person than ' his Majesty.' 
 
286 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 At this sight they were filled with amazemeut and conster- 
 nation. Yet tlieir amazement, great though it may have been, 
 was not greater than that of ' his Majesty.' For an instant lio 
 stood like one transfixed, and then exclaimed, in that peculi^.r 
 English which he spoke : 
 
 'Ilowly Moses ! but this bates the worruld !' and then .stood 
 staring at each of them. 
 
 At this exclamation Katie st.irted. She recognised the voice 
 at once ; and, strange to say, all her terror fled. From that man 
 she felt as if there vas nothing to fear. She looked up, and 
 showed her sweet face nil smiles, with all its anxiety and all its 
 terror vanished. Dolores also heard the English words, and 
 looked up in surprise, recognising at the first glance that familiar 
 face. Harry anil Ashby made the same discovery. 
 
 But there were other discoveries to be made. Their eyes, as 
 the lights shone around, took in the whole scene ; and it was 
 with the deepest dismay and confusion that, on looking arouml, 
 each one caught sight of his, or her, old lover ; and, wliat was 
 more, the feeling of each one was, that the other had come in 
 pursuit, to claim that vow which each was breaking. 
 
 Henry saw Talbot, and felt sure that she had come after him 
 to demand a new explanation, and to reproach him for this new 
 perfidy. She had suifered, he felt, wrongs that were intolerable 
 at his hands, and his heart sank within him at this new meeting. 
 He seemed to himself base beyond all exj)ressiou, and no words 
 could be found with which he might excuse himself. 
 
 Brooke saw Dolores, and his only thought was that she had 
 suspected him, had watched him, had tracked him, and had now 
 come to overwhelm him with dishonour; and he felt that ho 
 must be dumb before her. 
 
 Ashby saw Katie, and thought that she had surely come in 
 pursuit of him ; that perhajjs his suspicions had been un- 
 founded ; that she loved him ; that she had only been trifling 
 with Harry, and had come to tear him from Dolores. 
 
 Talbot saw Harry with guilty terror. She had fled from him, 
 and intentionally. He had pursued ; he liad come to claim her 
 hand — her promised hand ! 
 
 Dolores saw Brooke witii the same feelings. She knew him 
 as the chivalrous American who had saved her life, and that of 
 her mother in their direst need ; who had won her heart and the 
 ]Homise of her hand. She had broken her word — she had lied. 
 What now ? W ith what eyes could she look at him ! With what 
 words could she speak to him ? 
 
 Katie's face had lightened up with joy at the sight of ' his 
 Majesty,' but the moment afterward it clouded over with fear 
 and apprehension at the sight of Ashby. ' 'Tis conscience doth 
 make cowards of us all,' and conscience told her that she had 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 287 
 
 ' and then stood 
 
 (.llAltl/jr I." 
 
 .glish words, and 
 auce that famihiii 
 
 erV' 
 
 e. Their eyes, as 
 
 3ceue ; and it was 
 
 treated Ashby very, very badly, and that he had followed her 
 to make her keep her plighteil word. And so she only clung to 
 Harry more closely than ever. 
 
 And so, in fact, did the other couples. They all clung to one 
 another more closely than ever. There was a moment of embar- 
 rassment — intense, awful, tremendous. 
 
 The deep silence was broken by the voice of ' his Majesty.' 
 
 ' Ilersilf !' he cried, with his eyes fixed on Katie — ' hersilf ! be- 
 gorra, it's hersilf ! Shure an' it is ! an' oh, but it's mesilf that's 
 the lucky man tliis day ! An' shure, an' may I dhrop dead if I 
 iver saw sich a mayting as this ! >Shure, ye've forgotten all about 
 my oft'er av the crown av Spain, an' the sceptre, an' the throne. 
 IJegorra, ye've given up all that same for that bit av a boy that's 
 a howldin' av ye. An' shure, we're all together again, so we are. 
 Here's welcome to yez all — ]Messrs.Rivers. an' Ashby, an' the ladies, 
 one an' all ! Niver fear, I'll take good care av yez this toinie ! 
 Only, what's become av Lord Russell ] Begorra, it's mesilf that 
 'lul loike to have another look at that same I' 
 
 Talking in this way, with frequent pauses, ' his JNlajesty ' suc- 
 ceeded in expressing his feelings, which had at first seemed ([uite 
 too strong for utterance. 
 
 Meanwhile, the soldiers who had been inspecting the interior 
 had found convenient places for fixing the torches, which now 
 flared up, throwing a bright light around, and filling the tower 
 with smoke. 
 
 During all this time the prisoners had been agitated by various 
 feelings. Harry and Ashby saw in ' his Majesty ' a remorseless 
 brigand, whose only idea was plunder, and who would now hold 
 them to ransom as before. They despaired of escape. This new 
 capture seemed far worse than the former one, yet each one 
 thought less of himself than of that dear one whom he had tried 
 to save. Thus Harry clung to Katie, and Ashby clung to Dolores 
 more closely than ever. Brooke and Talbot, on the contrary, had 
 less fear, yet they had anxiety. Brooke recognised in * his Ma- 
 jesty ' the unscrupulous Carlist whom he had visited, and was 
 somewhat uneasy about a recognition ; while Talbot, seeing his 
 uneasiness, felt something like fear herself. 
 
 Yet, in the midst of all this, they all alike made one discovery. 
 It was this : each one saw that his or her old love had become 
 strangely indifferent. 
 
 Harry saw that Talbot was clinging to that strange man whom 
 lie had never seen before, but who now, as he thought, seemed 
 uucommonly sweet on her. 
 
 Brooke saw that Dolores was clinging for support to another 
 strange man. She had evidently no thought for him. 
 
 A.shby saw at once that Katie thought of no one but Harry 
 Rivera. 
 
2S8 
 
 A CASTL/- IN SPAIN. 
 
 Talbot saw that Harry was devoted to that lady whom he 
 was so assiduously supporting and consoling. She was utterly 
 am.ized at the discovery, yet inexpressibly glad, 
 
 Dolores, in her lelight, saw that Brooke took no notice of her- 
 self, but devoted himself to the lady with him, and in such a 
 fervent manner that she understood it all without being toUl. 
 
 Katie also saw that Asliby had forgotten all about her, and 
 thought of nothing but Dolores. 
 
 And at this discovery, which flashed almost simultaneously upon 
 them, each one felt the most inexpressible joy. At the same time 
 the whole truth came upon them. Each one, instead of pursuing 
 the other, had been trying to fly. Each lover had found a new 
 antl more congenial friend, and with this dear friend had left the 
 castle. Each one felt equally guilty, yet equally glad ; but then, 
 as to guilt, there was Brooke, who did not feel guilty at all— oli, 
 bless you, no ! — he had only come with Talbot as far as the 
 toiver / 
 
 In the midst of all this. Hairy and Ashby and Brooke were 
 amazed at the Irish brogue of the Carli'-.t chief, who had formerly 
 spoken to them in Spanish. 
 
 And now, while they were thus wondering, who should come 
 in but a certain female in a very peculiar dress ; for this female 
 wore what looked like a military cloak, and she wore, also, an 
 officer's ' kepi,* which was ])erched on the top of her chignon ; 
 which female took a glance around, and then exclaimed : 
 
 ' Well, goodness gi'acious me ! I never ! Did I ever ! Xo, 
 
 never 
 
 V 
 
 ' Auntie !' screamed Katie, and with tbis she rushed towan 
 the aforesaid female, who was no other than Mrs. llussell. Sli 
 flung her ai'ms around that lady, and almost smothered her wit 
 kisses. 
 
 ' Dear child !* said Mrs. Russell, * how impetuous you are ! bii 
 it's natural — it's touching — it's grateful — we deserve it, dear. We 
 came to seek and to save. Bless you, my child, and may you be 
 happy ! " His Majesty " has a tender heart, and often talks o 
 you. We also cherish for you a fond affection, child ; but in 
 future try to be a little less boisterous, and respect the majesty o 
 Spain.' 
 
 At this reception Katie was quite bewildered. It was only b; 
 a strong ettbrt that she could com])rehend it. She then recallec 
 that old nonsense with which she had amused herself when she 
 had suggested that Mrs. Eussell should marry 'his Majesty;' 
 but now a great terror seized her : was it possible that Mrs, 
 Eussell had done such a thing ] 
 
 * Oh, auntie !' she said ; ' oh, auntie ? you haven't — you 
 haven't — done — done it V 
 
 • Done it !' said Mrs. Russell, who seemed at once to understaiM 
 
A CASTLE L\ SPAIN. 
 
 at lady whom he 
 She was utterly 
 
 : no notice of her- 
 m, and iu such a 
 Dut being toUl. 
 !ill about her, and 
 
 multaneously upon 
 At the same time 
 Instead of pursnuig 
 r had found a new 
 friend had left the 
 lly glad ; but then, 
 il guilty at all— ol), 
 ilbot as far as the 
 
 )y and Brooke were 
 jf , who had formerly 
 
 lo- who should come 
 Iss ; for this female 
 A she wore, also, an 
 top of her chiguou ; 
 exclaimed " 
 
 289 
 
 her ; * no, child — not yet ; but as soon as the aflfairg of State will 
 allow, " his Majesty " says that the ceremony shall be performed ; 
 after which comes the coronation, you know, and then, dear, I 
 shall be Queen, and you may be princess, and may marry the 
 proudest of all the Spanish cliivalry.' 
 
 At this Katie was so terrified that she did not know what to 
 say. The only thought she had was that 'auntie ' had gone 
 raving mad. She knew that Mr. Hussell was alive and well, for 
 she had seen him only a short time before. The old joke about 
 marrying ' his Majesty ' had been almost forgotten by her ; and 
 to find * auntie ' now as full as ever of that nonsensical piece of 
 ambition was inexpressibly shocking to her. Yet she J id not 
 know what to say. To disabuse her seemed impossible. She did 
 not dare to tell her that Mr. Russell was alive ; it might be 
 dangerous. ' Auntie ' had so set her mind upon this insane 
 project that any attempt to thwart her would certainly draw 
 down vengeance upon the head of the one who should dare to 
 attempt it. That one certainly was not Katie. She liked, as far 
 as possible, to have things move on smoothly around her ; and so 
 the only thought she now had was to chime iu with 'auntie's* 
 fancy ; to humour her, as one would humour an insane person, 
 and to hope that something might turn up iu time to prevent 
 anything ' dreadful.' 
 
 In this state of mind Katie went on talking with * auntie.' 
 
 I Did I ever ! No, I But ' auntie ' was hard to humour ; she was altogether too granil 
 
 she rushed toward 
 Mrs. llussell. She 
 smothered her with 
 
 jetuous you are ! but 
 1 deserve it, dear. NVe 
 hild, and may you be 
 rt, and often talks of 
 kction, child ; but in 
 [respect the majesty ot 
 
 ered. It was only by 
 It She then recalled 
 Led herself when she 
 Larry 'his Majesty; 
 [it possible that Mrs, 
 
 h you haven't— you 
 
 at once to understand ^ 
 
 19 
 
 and lofty for little Katie. In fancy she already wore a crown, 
 and talked of the throne, the sceptre, and the majesty of Spain as 
 though they had always been her private property. 
 
 * I've been two or three days,' said she, ' with " his Majesty." 
 He has been most kind. His royal will is that I should wear 
 this hat. Do you think it is becoming ? Under other circum- 
 stances, I should be talked about, I know ; but where the welfare 
 of Spain is concerned, I don't care for public opinion. When I 
 am seated on the throne all will be explained.* 
 
 At such a torrent as this poor Katie could only take refuge in 
 silence. 
 
290 
 
 A CAS Tin: IN SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 HOW A SURPRISE -PARTY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED. 
 
 During these remarks ' his Majesty ' had been fumbling, with a 
 thoughtful expression, in his coat-pocket, as tliougli trying to 
 extricate sometliiug, tlie bulk of which prevented it from being 
 drawn forth without some difficulty ; and as he tugged anil 
 fumbled he began to speak. 
 
 * I came heie,' said he, 'on a surprise-party, an' begorra I nivei- 
 was so surprised in my loife, so I wasn't. An' be the same token, 
 as it's a long march we've had, au' as we've got to wait here an 
 hour or so, au' as we're on the ave av au attack an' may uiver live 
 to see another day, shure there's ivery raisou in loife ' — and with 
 this he fumbled still more vigorously in his pocket — * why ' — he 
 gave a thrust and a pull — * why we should all wet our whistles ' 
 — he gave a series of violent twists — * wid a dhrop av somethin' 
 warrum ;' and with this he succeeded in getting the object of his 
 attempts extricated from his pocket, and proudly displayed before 
 the eyes of the company a black junk-bottle. 
 
 The others looked at this with some surprise, but no other 
 feeling. The whole proceeding seemed to tliem to show au ill- 
 timed levity ; and if it was serious, it certainly seemed very bad 
 taste. But * his Royal Majesty' was in a very gracious mood, and 
 continued to run on in his most gay and atfable strain. He 
 wandered round among the company and offered the bottle to 
 each in turn. When they all refused he seemed both surprised 
 and hurt. 
 
 ' Shure it's whisky, so it is,' he said, as though that would 
 remove all objections ; but this information did not produce auy 
 eflfect. * Perhaps it's a tumbler ye'U be wantin',' said he. ' Well, 
 well, we're sorry we haven't got one ; but if ye'U take a taste out 
 av the bottle yell foiud it moighty convaynient.' 
 
 Here the monarch paused, and, raising the bottle to his own 
 royal lips, took a long draught. As he swallowed the liquid his 
 eyes closed and his face assumed an expression of rapture. He 
 then offered it to all once more, and mourned over them because 
 they refused. 
 
 *0h, but it's the divoine dhrinkl' said he. Then he grew 
 merrier, and began to sing : 
 
 * " Ob, Shakspeare, Homer, an' all tbf> poets 
 Have sun^ for ages the praise av woine ; 
 But if they iver had tasted whisky, 
 They'd have called it the only dhrink divoine. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 291 
 
 Then he grew 
 
 ' " Oh, wud JO haro a receipt for toddy ? 
 Av whisky yo take a quart, I thiuk ; 
 Thin out av a pint av bilin' wathor 
 Ivcry dhrop yo add will spile the dhriuk 1' 
 
 Asliby had been talking with Dolores for some time. ITo now 
 came forward, Dolores hanging on his arm. 
 
 * Sir,' said he to ' his Majesty/ ' 1 suppose we must again 
 consider ourselves your prisoners V 
 
 * Divvle a doubt av it,' said ' his Maiesty ' with a wink at 
 Dolores. 
 
 * The other time,' said Ashby, ' you named a ransom, and said 
 that on the payment of that sum you would allow us our liberty. 
 Will you now name a sum again— some sum that I can pay] I 
 engage to have it in less than a week, j)rovided that you send this 
 lady in safety to Vittoria. She can procure the money for me, 
 and until then I shall remain your i)risoner.' 
 
 ' Well, that's fair,' said * his Majesty.' 
 ' Will you do it V 
 
 * Begorra, I will.' 
 
 ' Will you name the sum V 
 
 TUthink about it.' 
 
 At this Ashby went back with Dolores to his former position, 
 and they resumed their conversation. But Harry had heard 
 every word, and he now came up, with Katie clinging to him. 
 
 * Sir,' said he, ' will you allow me to procure my ransom in the 
 same way 1 Will you allow this lady to go in company with the 
 other, so as to procure the amount needed for my deliverance X 
 
 ' But I won't go,' said Katie hurriedly. 
 ' What !' said Harry. ' Oh, think — it's for my sake, my life.' 
 ' But I can't,' said Katie. ' I know I shall never see you again. 
 Besides, what could I do alone ]' 
 ' You can go with this other lady, or with your aunt.' 
 ' Oh, she can't go with me,' said auntie. * Nothing would 
 induce me to leave " his Majesty." The royal cause is just now 
 in a critical condition, and we need all our resources.' 
 
 * Then you can go with the Spanish senorita,' said Harry. 
 'But I'm afraid,' said Katie. 
 
 ' Afraid !' said Harry. * Why, there will be no danger. You 
 will be sent with a guard.' 
 
 * Oh, it's not that — it's not that,' said Katie ; ' it's because I'm 
 afraid I shall never see you again. And it's cruel — very, very 
 cruel in you !' 
 
 At this ' his Majesty ' wiped his eyes. Then he raised his 
 bottle and took another long pull. Then he heaved a sigh. 
 
 * Arrah, ye rogue,' said he to Harry, * ye've deludhered that 
 poor gyerrul intoirely. She's yours out-an'-out — no doubt av 
 that ; an' sure but it's dead bate an' heart-broke intoirely I'd be, 
 
 19 — 2 
 
393 
 
 .1 CASTLE IN SPAIX. 
 
 BO I would, if it wasn't for the widely hero, that's a frind iu time 
 av nade, an' has a heart that's worth its weight in goold sove- 
 reigns.' 
 
 * His Majesty ' now took another long, long pull at the black 
 bottle. 
 
 ' If it wasn't that I had that other noble heart til fall back on,' 
 said he, as he wiped his royal eyes with the back of liis royal 
 hand, * I'd be fairly broken-hearted, so I would, liut I'Ubeloiko 
 
 Tim in the, song 
 
 ' "Oh, a widdy she lived in Limerick town, 
 Not far from Simiinon water, 
 An' Tim kept company wid her, 
 
 A coortin' av Biddy, hor daughter. 
 But Micky M'Oraw cut in between, 
 
 And run away wid Biddy. 
 ' Bogorra i' says Tim, ' the daughter's gone, 
 So, fail, I'll take the widdy i' 
 The widdy I . 
 Not Biddy I 
 The fond and faithful widdy i 
 Whooroor!"*.. 
 
 Singing this, the jovial monarch caught Mrs. Eussell's hands iu 
 his, and proceeded to dance in a manner which was far more 
 boisterous than dignified. Mrs. Russell, always fond and indul- 
 gent, lent herself to the royal whim, and danced much more 
 vigorously than could have been expected from a person of her 
 years. Katie clapped her hands in childish glee. The Carlists 
 all applauded. The others looked puzzled. 'His Majesty' 
 finally concluded his little dance, after which Mrs. Russell clung 
 to him in a languishing attitude, and looked like a caricature of 
 each of those other younger ladies who were all clinging so fondly 
 to their respective lovers. The sj^j;ht of Mrs. Russell in that 
 languishing attitude came hoir»e to the hearts and consciences of 
 the younger ladies, who all relinquished their lovers' arms, and 
 insisted on standing by themselves. 
 
 Brooke had listened thoughtfully to all that had thus far been 
 said. The Carlist chief was a puzzle to him ; but he saw that 
 there was talk of holding to ransom, which to him had an ugly 
 sound. 
 
 * Sir,' said he, * are we to be kept prisoners in this tower V 
 
 ' This tower, is it V said * his Majesty.' ' Begorra, I hope not. 
 There's another tower a dale betther nor this. It's mesilf that 
 'ud be the proud man til let yez all go, an' yez 'ud all be prouder, 
 I'll go bail ; but in that case, shure to glory, I'd be a loser ; but 
 I hope to find yez comfortable quarthers in a foine stone house 
 not a thousand moiles from this. Ye'll all be as comfortable aa 
 ould Dinny M'Divitt in the song : 
 
A CASTLE LV SPA/X. 
 
 593 
 
 g a friud in time 
 t in goold Hove- 
 
 pull at the black 
 
 ttil fall back on,' 
 
 ack of \m royal 
 
 But I'll be loikc 
 
 n, 
 
 gODO, 
 
 Russell's bauds iu 
 licb was far more 
 ys fond and indul- 
 anced much more 
 u a person of her 
 lee. The Carlists 
 'His Majesty' 
 Mrs. Russell cluug 
 ike a caricature of 
 clinging so fondly 
 B. Russell in that 
 and consciences of 
 lovers' arms, and 
 
 :s 
 
 had thus far been 
 
 , but he saw that 
 
 ,0 him had an ugly 
 
 n this tower 1' 
 egorra, I hope not. 
 1. It's mesilf that 
 ;'ud all be prouder, 
 ['d be a loser ; but 
 [a foine stone house 
 |e as comfortable as 
 
 • " In ft bonufiful pnlaco nv stone, 
 
 Rosoided oulil Dinny M'Divitt ; 
 JIo wore a most boautit'ul ring 
 
 Tliftt worn fixed round his wrist wid ft rivet. 
 'Twas tlio ju ijjp, sliure, tiiat sintiiicod liiiu thcro, 
 
 An' tlwri' all tlio boys wint til view hii.i, 
 For the jury oon,sidlu>red him dull 
 
 At discrrnin' twixt ' mnyum ' and * chuum.' 
 So 111! up for tlio toast, an' I'll p^ivo it : 
 Ilero's a health to bowld Dinny M'J^ivitt 1'" 
 
 At this the monarch ^"•.ised the bottle to his mouth and took 
 another long, long ])ull. 
 
 From this Brooke gathered that they were to be taken to tlie 
 castle. He asked * his Majesty ' if this were so. 
 
 'Begorra, ye've hit it,' said ' his ^Majesty.' 
 
 * Is there anything to prevent our being taken there at once V 
 asked Brooke. 
 
 ' Bedad, there's iverythiug in loife. Shure, I've come on a 
 surprise-])arty til capture the castle.' 
 
 It occurred to Brooke that this was a curious way to surprise a 
 castle — by kindling torches, dancing, and singing songs ; but he 
 made no remark upon that. He saw that the chief supposed the 
 castle to be defended, and so he hastened to undeceive him. 
 
 ' His Majesty ' listened in amazement to Brooke's story. 
 
 ' Begorra,' said he, ' here's another surprise ! Didn't I say we 
 were a surprised party I Shure, an' j'e've all showed pluck, ivery 
 man Jack av yez, inclndin' the ladies. An' that same '11 have to 
 be cousidhered iu our thraitnient wid yez about the ransom. 
 Shure, I'll deduct five per cint., so I will. Nobody shall say 
 we're not magnanimous. But bein' as there's nobody there, 
 shure, the best thing for us to do is to go over at onct and ray- 
 sume possession.' 
 
 With these words the monarch retired to give orders to his 
 men, and in a short time the whole baud, together with their 
 prisoners, had passed over and had taken possession. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 IN WHICH THE KING COMES TO CLAIM HIS OWN. 
 
 The party of prisonei'S was conducted by ' his Majesty ' to that 
 upper room which had formerly been occupied by the ladies. 
 Mrs. Russell clung to the royal person as fondly as ever. It was 
 a critical hour iu the destinies of Spain. 
 
294 
 
 A CASTLE IN SrA/X 
 
 ' Where's Rita,' cried * \m Majesty,' ' that cook of cooks ? It's 
 fitarviu' we are. I havcu't seen her anywheres. I'll go au' hunt 
 her \\p ' 
 
 With these words he hurried out, followed by ^frs. Russell. 
 They descended the stairs, aiul their footsteps died away in the 
 distaiito. No one was uow with the prisouers except the wounded 
 Republicans. 
 
 * Let us fly !' said Harry, in a quick, sharp whisper. 
 
 Ho hurried Katie to the chimney, and, clambering up, drew 
 her after him. The others followed at once. Dolores came next 
 to Harry. 
 
 * I know a secret way out,' said she. * I will show the way. 
 Let me go ahead. I know it in the dark.' 
 
 ' Do you V saiil Harry. ' Oh, then go ahead.* 
 
 Upon this Dolores took the lead along with Ashby ; Harry and 
 Katie came next, while Brooke and Talbot brought up the rear, 
 these last being full of wonder at this unexpected revelation of 
 the passage-way. 
 
 By this time each member of the party had gained a full and 
 complete comprehension as well as apjneciatiou of the present 
 state of things, both with reference to the old lover, and also the 
 new one. Embarrassment had now passed away, and all were 
 full of hope, joy, and enthusiasm. 
 
 Suddenly a hollow groan sounded through the darkness. 
 
 ' Who's there V cried Ashby, in Spanish. 
 
 ' Help ! help 1' said a faint voice, in English. 
 
 *An Englishman !' cried Ashby, speaking in English. 'Who 
 are you V 
 
 ' Oh, help ! help ! I'm a prisoner. A fiend has me in her 
 power 1 Once I was named Russell ; but uow — oh ! oh ! my 
 name is Rita 1' 
 
 Full of wonder, Ashby felt his way forward, and found a man 
 on the floor. His legs and arms were tied. He was almost 
 speechless, partly from terror and partly from joy. In a few 
 words he told his story, which need not be repeated here. Rita 
 had bound him, and had only left him a short time before at the 
 sudden noise of their approach. It was not until afterward that 
 they understood the whole story, for just then they were in too 
 great a hurry to ask questions. A pull from Ashby's braudy- 
 Hask partly restored Russell's strength, but more was accom- 
 plished by his joy at this unexpected deliverance. Terror also 
 came to his aia and lent him strength, and he was now more 
 anxious than any of them to fly from this awful prison-house. 
 
 Dolores now led the way as before, and they all followed down 
 long steps and crooked passage-ways until at last they reached 
 the outlet. Here they found themselves in the chasm. A hasty 
 consultation ended in the decision not to go to the tower for fear 
 
 ih 
 
A CASTLE IN SPA/X. 
 
 295 
 
 )k of cooks ? It's 
 I'll go au' hunt 
 
 I by Arr«. lluasoll. 
 lied away in tlio 
 cepttho woundcMl 
 
 liisper. 
 
 mberiiig up, drew 
 
 Dolores caiue next 
 
 ill sliow the way. 
 
 UliLy ; Harry and 
 ought up the rear, 
 cted revelation of 
 
 gained a full and 
 ion of the prescuit 
 lover, and also the 
 iway, and all were 
 
 he darkness. 
 
 a English. 'Who 
 
 nd has me in her 
 low— oh ! oh ! my 
 
 , and found a man 
 . He was almost 
 m joy. In a few 
 )eated here. Rita 
 time before at the 
 ntil afterward that 
 n they were in too 
 Asliby's brandy- 
 more was accom- 
 •ance. Terror also 
 he was now more 
 ul prison-house. 
 T all followed down 
 ,t last they reached 
 e chasm. A hasty 
 the tower for fear 
 
 lest Carlists might bo tliero. Tlipy concluded, thoroforo, to go 
 along the chasm for Home distance, and then ascend to the open 
 coiinlry above, and after this to go forward jih far as possible tnat 
 same night. 
 
 They traversed the chasm in this way, and at length reached 
 the top, where they found themselves to be about a mile away 
 from the cattle. Here the ground nloped gently, descending into 
 a broad valley, to which they decided to go. In this direction 
 they therefore proceeded as carefully as possible, and had gone 
 about two miles in safety, when suddenly they became aware of 
 a great noise, like the (piick trot of numerous horses. Jt was 
 a(lvancing so rapidly that they had no time to take measures for 
 escape, and, before they could considt together, a troop of horse- 
 men came over a rising ground in front and galloped straight 
 toward them. 
 
 A wild look all around showed them the hopelessness of their 
 situation. The countrv was o|)en. There was not a house or a 
 fence or a tree or a bush that might allbrd a hiding-place. Flight 
 was useless. They could do nothing now but trust to the faint 
 hope that they might be deemed unworthy of attention. But 
 soon this hope proved vain. They were seen — they were sur- 
 rounded — they were again prisoners. 
 
 They soon learned that this new band consisted of Carlista ; 
 that they were on their way to the castle to join the King, who 
 had gone on before. 
 
 The King ! 
 
 Katie knew who that was. Harry was puzzled, as he always 
 had been, about ' his Majesty.' Dolores also was niystitied, since 
 she had never believed that ' his Majesty ' was what he pre- 
 tended to be. Ashby, also, had not believed it, and now was 
 more puzzled than any of them. Brooke and Talbot, however, 
 were strangers to the pretensions of that singular being who 
 called himself King, and therefore hoped that this would turn 
 out for the best. As for Russell, he was in despair, for to him 
 ' his Majesty ' was more dreaded than any other human being, 
 with the single and terrible exception of Rita. And now he felt 
 himself dragged back to meet him — worse, to meet Rita. Despair 
 took full ])ossession of him. All his strength left him, and one 
 of the troopers had to give up his horse to the world-worn 
 captive. 
 
 It was with such feelings as these that the party reached the 
 castle, and were led upstairs into the presence of the King 
 ' The first glance which they gave around showed them that 
 there had been a slight mistake somewhere. 
 
 Down below, the court-yard and the lower hall were full of 
 men. Here there were twenty or thirty, all in the uniform of 
 officera ; all men of distinguished air and good-breeding ; all 
 
•^ 
 
 296 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 geutlenien, and far differeut from the ragged gang whom they 
 had last eucoiiutered here. 
 
 In the centre of this company stood a man who at once attracted 
 to himself the eyes of the party of prisoners. He was of medium 
 size, with heavy black moustache, and dark penetrating eyes. 
 He had the air of one who had always been accustomed to the 
 respectfu' obedience of others ; an air of command which rested 
 well upon his bold and resolute face. It was the face of one who 
 lived in the consciousness that he was the centre, and strength, 
 and hope of a gallant party ; of one who believed himself to hold 
 a divine commission to regenerate a fallen country ; of one who 
 knew that he alone in all the world held up aloft, at the head of 
 an army, the proud banner of t^onservatism ; of one who, for this 
 mission, had given up ease and luxury and self-indulgence ; had 
 entered upon a life of danger, hardship, and ceaseless toil, and 
 every day lived in the very presence of Death ; in short, they 
 sjiw before them the idol of the Spanish Legitimists — the high- 
 souled, the chivalrous Don Carlos. 
 
 The quick penetrating glance which he threw upon the party 
 soon faded away into a pleasant smile. 
 
 * Welcome, ladies !' said he ; * welcome, gentlemen ! Some one 
 spoke of a party of prisoners ; I had no hope of such good fortune 
 as to meet with guests. But you must have met with some mis- 
 fortune, in which case let me lielp you.' 
 
 He spoke in Spanish, of course — a language which is usually 
 spoken in Spain ; and a very pretty language it is, too, and one 
 which I should advise all my readers to learn ; for they would 
 find it uncommonly useful in case they should ever find them- 
 selves in a castle in Spain. 
 
 It was Harry who replied. lie told the whole story as far as 
 it was known to himself, dwelling especially upon the character 
 and actions oi that strange being who had played the role of 
 monarch. Harry's light and playful nature threw a tinge of 
 comicality around the whole story, which was highly appreciated 
 by all his hearers. And so it was that a smile began to go round, 
 until at length it deepened and developed into laughter, and so 
 went on deepening and broadening and intensifying, until at 
 last the laughter grew, if not Homeric, at least loud enough and 
 long enough for a castle in Spain. 
 
 * It's the Irishman !' cried Don Carlos — ' it's the Irish guerilla! 
 It's O'Toole ! The villain ! he shall hang for this !' 
 
 Harry was too good-natured to feel revengeful, and was just 
 beginning to beg for OToole's life, when suddenly there arose 
 behind them the sound of hurried footsteps, followed by wild 
 cries. All turned, and a strange figure met their eyes. 
 
 It was a woman. She wore a military cloak and au ofiicer's 
 kepi. She looked wildly around. 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 297 
 
 ang whom they 
 
 xt once attracted 
 I was of medium 
 >euetrating eyes, 
 customed to the 
 Lud which rested 
 ! face of one who 
 re, and strength, 
 i himself to hold 
 try ; of one who 
 ft," at the head of 
 one who, for this 
 indulgence ; had 
 ceaseless toil, and 
 ti ; in short, they 
 imists— the high- 
 
 w upou the party 
 
 tmen ! Some one 
 such good fortune 
 et with some mia- 
 
 which is usually 
 it is, too, and one 
 for they would 
 ever find them- 
 
 >le story as far as 
 )on the character 
 layed the role of 
 jihrew a tinge of 
 fighly appreciated 
 !gan to go round, 
 laughter, and so 
 isifying, imtil at 
 loud enough and 
 
 lie Irish guerilla ! 
 
 Isl' 
 
 [ul, and was just 
 
 lenly there arose 
 
 followed by wild 
 
 eyes. 
 
 and au officer's 
 
 'Where is he? Wiiere is my own one.'' she cried — '"his 
 Majesty ]" Where is the hope of Spain V 
 
 Kussell saw her. He threw out wide his manly arms — he 
 opened his mouth : ' Jew — li — a-r-r-r-r-r-r !' With a long, loud 
 cry he shouted this name, and rushed toward her. 
 
 Mrs. Russell saw him coming — her lost, lamented lord ! the 
 one whom she had mourned as dead ! Was this his ghost ? or 
 was he indeed alive ? In any case, the shock was awful for a 
 woman of delicote nerves ; and Mrs. llussell prided herself on 
 being a woman of very delicate nerves. So she did what a 
 woman of delicate nerves ought to do — she gave a loud, long, 
 piercing shriek, and fainted dead .away in her fond husband's 
 arms. 
 
 Don Carlos gave a grin, and then pulled at his moustache. 
 
 'Another victim,' said he to the laughing company. * Oh yes ; 
 O'Toole shall certainly swing for this. Discipline must and shall 
 be maintained. Send out and catch the fellow. Have him up 
 here at once.' 
 
 They sent out and they hunted everywhere, but nowhere 
 could they discover any traces of the brilliant, the festive, the 
 imaginative, the mimetic, the ingenious O'Toole. He was never 
 seen again. 
 
 Some say that in the dead of night two figures might have 
 been seen slowly wending their way up the path toward the tower ; 
 that the one looked like O'Toole and the other looked like Rita. 
 It may have been so ; many things are possible in this evil world ; 
 and if so, we must suppose that these two gradually faded away 
 among the mists of cloud-land that always surround a castle in 
 Spain. 
 
■M«M9VV*ii^|pM 
 
 298 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 IN WHICH THERE IS AN END OF MY STORY. 
 
 The illustrious host received his guests with large and lavish 
 hospitality. The best that could be afforded by a bounteous coni- 
 niissariat was placed before them. The table was laid, the banquet 
 was spread, aud all the company sat down together. 
 
 At the head of the table was Don Carlos. 
 
 On his right was Talbot, with Brooke beside her. 
 
 On his left was Katie, with Harry beside her. 
 
 Next to Harry was Dolores, with Ashby beside her. 
 
 Next to Brooke was a priest in somewhat martial attire, whom 
 Don Carlos introduced to them as — l^he Cure of Santa Cruz! 
 
 He was a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man, with strongly 
 marked features, engle eye, and bold and resolute face. This was 
 the very man whom Brooke had once personated ; but Brooke 
 was just now silent about that particular matter, nor did he care 
 to mention to any of his Spanish friends the fact that he was an 
 American, and a newspaper correspondent. In spite of the pass- 
 ports and credentials with which his wallet was stuffed and with 
 which his pocket;, bristled, he had not been recognised by any 
 one present ; a fact that seems to show that those papers had been 
 obtained from some of the inferior officers of Don Carlos, or 
 perhaps from some other correspondent who had fallen in the 
 practice of his professional duties. 
 
 The Cure of Santa Cruz said grace, and the banquet began. 
 
 Don Carlos was a man of joyous soul and large, exuberant 
 spirit, with a generous, romantic, and heroic nature. He also 
 knew how to lay aside, on occasion, all the cares of his position ; 
 so now he was no longer the commander of a gallant army, the 
 banner-bearer of a great cause, the claimant of a throne. On 
 the contr.ary, he was the simple gentleman among other gentle- 
 men — ^;?'t??i?^s inter 2xtres — the hospitable host, chiefly intent upon 
 performing the pleasing duties of tliat office. 
 
 He had also showed such an amiable interest in the adventures 
 of his guests, that they had frankly told him all that was of any 
 interest. Harry had a moi'e confiding disposition than the others, 
 and after the ladies had retired ho disclosed more and more of 
 their affairs, until at last their gallant host had obtained a very 
 clear idea of the sentimental side of the story. 
 
 * Gentlemen,' said Don Carlos at length, * to-morrow we shall 
 resume our march, and I shall be happy to do for you all in my 
 power. I shall be sorry to part with you, yet glad to restore you 
 to your liberty. A company will take you to the nearest rail- 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 !99 
 
 Y STORY. 
 
 I large and lavish 
 
 Y a boimteoiis com- 
 as laid, the banquet 
 
 ether. 
 
 e her. 
 er. 
 
 side her. 
 
 lartial attire, whom 
 ' of Santa Cruz ! 
 man. with strongly 
 Lute face. This was 
 mated ; but Brooke 
 ,ter, nor did he care 
 fact that he was an 
 In spite of the pass- 
 ras stuffed and with 
 I recognised by any 
 ose papers had been 
 of Don Carlos, or 
 ) had fallen in the 
 
 J banquet began, 
 nd large, exuberant 
 c nature. He also 
 fires of his position ; 
 a gallant army, the 
 t of a throne. On 
 among other gentle- 
 ;, chiefly intent upon 
 
 1st in the adventures 
 I all that was of any 
 [ion than the others, 
 more and more of 
 lad obtained a very 
 
 Ito-morrow we shall 
 ]o for you all in my 
 I glad to restore you 
 to the nearest rail- 
 
 way-station, from which you can proceed to your respective des- 
 tinations. But before you go, allow me to offer you a suggestion 
 which I am sure you will not take amiss. You, gentlemen, are 
 looking for ward to the time when these lovely and amiable ladies 
 shall sustain the closest possible relation toward you. You will 
 pardon me, I trust, if I hint just now that their position is a 
 very embarrassing one, travelling as they are without proper 
 chaperonage. In Spanish eyes that is a calamity. Now, the 
 suggestion that I was about to make is this, namely, that you 
 f^l'ould free these ladies from this embarrassment by persuading 
 them to accej>t you now as their legal protectors. Surely nothing 
 can be more desirable on all sides. No place can be more lilting 
 than this ; no hour more convenient ; no scene more romantic. 
 As for the priest, here sits my reverend friend the Cure of Santa 
 Cruz — a warrior-priest, an eccentric character, yet a brave and 
 noble soul ; and he, let me assure you, can tie the knot so tight 
 that it could not be made tighter even by the Holy Father him- 
 self, assisted by the Patriarch of Constantinople and the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury.' 
 
 This suggestion came as sudden as thunder from a clear sky ; 
 yet after the first shock it was considered by all present, and 
 especially by those most concerned, as — first, ingenious ; then, 
 happy ; then, most excellent ; and, finally, glorious. When this 
 unparalleled and matchless royal speech was ended the whole 
 company burst forth into rapturous applause. 
 
 Ashby and Harry, in wild excitement, forgot everything but 
 their old friendship and their latest love. They grasped one 
 another's hands with all their olden fervour. 
 
 * Hurrah, old fellow !' cried Harry. 
 
 ' Glorious ! isn't it, old boy V cried Ashby. 
 
 * I'll do it ; won't you ?' cried Harry. 
 
 * I will, by Jove !' cried Ashby. 
 And thus that quarrel was settled. 
 
 Brooke said nothing, but his eyes grew moist in his deep joy, 
 and he muttered and hummed all to himself the words of some 
 strange old song which had no connection with anything at all. 
 For this was his fashion, the odd old boy ! whenever his feelings 
 were deeply stirred, and he fell into that fiishion now : 
 
 ' " I never knew real happiness 
 Till I became a Mcthodess ; 
 So come, my love, and jino with mo, > 
 
 For here's a parson '11 mari'y we. j 
 
 Come for'ad and jine, 
 Come for'ad and jine, 
 This night come for'ad and jino. 
 
 A-A-A-A-A-men 1" ' 
 
 Durinpr ^^e banquet and the subsequent proceedings, the 
 rirtuoua Eussell had been silent and distrait. Though restored 
 
30O 
 
 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 to the arms of the best of wives, still he was not happy. There 
 was yet somethiug wanting. And what was that \ A'eeil I say 
 that it was the lost package with the precious bonds ? Ah no, foe 
 every one will surely divine the feelings and thoughts of tlii; 
 sorrowful man. 
 
 And he in his abstraction had been trying to think wliat could 
 be done ; for the bonds were lost to him : they were not in tlit 
 place where he had concealed them. What that ])lace really was 
 he now knew only too well. Had that fiend llita found them 
 Perhaps so — yet perhaps not. On the whole, as a last resort, ho 
 concluded that it would be best to appeal to Don Carlos. IJ is 
 face indicated goodness, and his whole trcittment of the i)arty 
 invited conlidence ; there surely he might meet with sympathy, 
 and if the package had been found by any of the Carlists it 
 might be restored. 
 
 And so, as the uproar subsided, Russell arose, and walking 
 toward Don Carlos, suddenly, and to the amazement and amuse- 
 ment of all present, flung himself on his knees, crying : 
 
 ' A boon ! a boon, my liege !' 
 
 These preposterous words had lingered in his memory from 
 some absurd reading of his boyhood. 
 
 Don Carlos smiled. 
 
 * What docs he say ]' lie asked. 
 Harry came forv/ard to act as interpreter, 
 
 Russell now told all. Harry knew in part the fortunes of the 
 bonds after they had left Ruirisell's hands ; but then they had 
 again been lost, so that he could not tell what had finally become 
 of them. Of his own part in finding them, and then concealing 
 them again, he thought best to say nothing. 
 
 Ashby, however, had something to say which was very much 
 to the purpose. It seems that Dolores had found the bonds, had 
 kept them, and had finally handed them over to Ashby for safe- 
 keeping. He at once concluded that they were Katie's, and was 
 waiting for a convenient opportunity to restore them. The 
 opportunity had now come. This was his simple story, but as 
 it was told to Don Carlos in Spanish, Russell did not understand 
 one word. 
 
 * Where are they now V asked Don Carlos. 
 
 * Here,' said Ashby, and he produced the package from his 
 coat-pocket. 
 
 Give them to me,' said Don Carlos, ' I will 
 
 arrange 
 
 it all. 
 
 Do you know, gentlemen, this is the happiest moment of my life. 
 I seem like a kind of Deus ex machina coming in at the right 
 time at the end of a series of adventures to produce universal 
 peace and harmony. 
 * I hope and trust,' said Ashby, ' that " your Majesty " may be 
 
A CASTLE IN SPALY. 
 
 ^01 
 
 a his memory from 
 
 package from his 
 
 Ir Majesty " may be 
 
 the Deus ex machina for all Spain, and interpose at last to pro- 
 duce universal peace and harmony here.' 
 
 ' Sefior,* said Don Carlos, * you talk like a born courtier ; yet at 
 the same time,' he added, in a solemn tone, ' what you have just 
 said is the high hope and aspiration of my life.' 
 
 After this creditable little speech Ashby handed over the 
 package, and Don Carlos took it. At this sight the lower jaw of 
 the venerable Russell fell several inches. This J Jon Carlos seemed 
 to him not one whit better than the other. The bonds were now 
 lost to him for ever. That was plain enough. Yet he dared not 
 say a word. After all, they ^\ ere not his, but Katie's. Harry 
 knew that, and Ashby also. What could he say ? He was dumb, 
 and so he crawled back, discomfited and despairing, to his seat. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said Don Carlos, ' you must use your utmost 
 efforts with the ladies. Everything shall be done that can be 
 most fitting to the occasion. We shall have music and festivities. 
 It is not often that I have adventures like these. Let the old 
 castle renew its youth. Let these walls ring to music and song. 
 Don't let the ladies escape you, gentlemen. If anything is want- 
 ing to your persuasions, tell them — as that rascal O'Toole, my 
 double, would say — tell them that it is " our royal will." ' 
 
 Another burst of api)lause, mingled with laughter, followed, 
 after which Harry, Ashby, and Brooke hurried off to see the 
 ladies. 
 
 What passed between the different couples on that memorable 
 occasion, what objections were made, on the one hand, by shrinking 
 modesty, and what arguments and entreaties were put forth, on 
 the other hand, by the ardent lovers, need not be narrated here. 
 Whether it was meek compliance with a loved one's wish, or 
 dread of Spanish etiquette, or respect for the ' royal will,' or 
 whatever else it may have been, sufHce it to say that at last the 
 delighted swains won a consent from the blushing maidens ; after 
 which they rushed forth in wild rapture to spend the remainder 
 of the night in prolonged festivities with their gallant host and 
 his festive band of cavaliers. 
 
 There was one, however, who took no part in all this. Excusing 
 himself from the festive board on the plea of ill health, he held 
 aloof, a prey to dark and gloomy suspicious. These he com- 
 municated to Harry before the 'evening session' began. It 
 seejiied that the much afflicted Russell, bi^lieving the true Den 
 Carlos to be no better than the false one, held the linn conviction 
 that the bonds had been appropriated by him for his own pur- 
 poses, and that their proceeds would be squandered on the ex- 
 travagant schemes of the hopeless Carlist insurrection. But 
 Harry scouted the idea. 
 
 'Keep them? He keep them?' he cried. 'Never! Don 
 Carlos is a gentleman.' 
 
" ^ j mf * r > 
 
 "^"^mmmt 
 
 302 
 
 A CASTLE m SPAIN. 
 
 At this Russell groaned and turned away. 
 
 Meanwhile the preparations for the coming event werediligentl 
 carried on. Before morning the ancient chapel of the hoary cast! 
 was decked out with evergreens brought from the neighbourinj 
 forest, and everything was made ready for the marriage-feast. 
 
 Morning came. All gathered in the chapel, which in its robi 
 of evergreens looked like a bower. 
 
 The three buglers and one drummer belonging to the troo 
 played in magniticent strains the stirring notes of the 'Wedding 
 March.' 
 
 The Cure of Santa Cruz presented an unexceptionable appear 
 ance in his ecclesiastical robes. 
 
 There, too, was the man who claimed to be the rightful Kiuf 
 of Spain, surrounded by men who represented some of the nobles 
 families of the nation — an illustrious company, the like of whicl 
 none of the principals in this ceremony had ever dreamed of as 
 likely to be present at his wedding. 
 
 The bridegrooms came, looking, it must be confessed, slightlj 
 seedy. 
 
 Then came the brides, resplendent in their best attire, procured 
 from the luggage which had been brought here at the time of their 
 capture by O'Toole. 
 
 There were no bridesmaids. But Mrs. Russell was present, 
 leaning on the arm of her beloved husband, all in tears. And 
 why 1 Was it from regrets for the lost crown of Spain ] or was 
 it merely from the tender sentiment which is usually called forth 
 on such an occasion ? or was it from the thought of that one whose 
 fortunes she had followed for many eventful hours with a view 
 to such a conclusion as this ? 
 
 No matter. 
 
 Reader, let us draw a veil over the emotions of this afflicted 
 lady. 
 
 The marriages went on. The knots were all tied. 
 
 Then came the wedding breakfast. 
 
 Don Carlos was in his best mood. He jested, he laughed, he 
 paid innumerable compliments to the ladies, and finally gave the 
 whole party an invitation to visit him on some future day at his 
 royal couit in Madrid. Which invitation, it may be stated 
 parenthetically, has not yet been accepted. 
 
 After this little speech, Don Carlos handed over to Harry the 
 Spanish bonds. 
 
 ' I understand,' said he, 'that your lady will soon be of age, but 
 under any circumstances, according to Spanish law, the husband 
 is entitled to receive all the property of his wife. Take this, 
 therefore, and you will thus relieve our aged friend yonder, 
 the venerable Senor Russell, from all further responsibility as 
 guardian.' 
 
A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 j^j 
 
 jvent were diligently 
 ;1 of the hoary castle 
 m tiie neighbouring 
 e marriage-feast. 
 I, which in its robe 
 
 onging to the troop 
 tes of the 'Wedding 
 
 xceptionable appear- 
 
 30 the rightful King 
 
 1 some of the noblest 
 
 ay, the like of which 
 
 ever dreamed of as 
 
 )e confessed, slightly 
 
 • best attire, procured 
 re at the time of their 
 
 Eussell was present, 
 1, all in tears. And 
 wn of Spain ? or was 
 3 usually called forth 
 ;ht of that one whose 
 id hours with a view 
 
 lions of this afflicted 
 ill tied. 
 
 Isted, he laughed, he 
 
 ,nd finally gave the 
 
 e future day at his 
 
 it may be stated 
 
 over to Harry the 
 
 . soon be of age, but 
 ^h law, the husband 
 Is wife. Take this, 
 Iged friend jronder, 
 ler responsibility as 
 
 Harry took it, and could not help casting a triumphant glance 
 at Russell, but that good man looked away. He afterward told 
 his wife that he had lost all faith in Providence, and felt but 
 little desire to live any longer in such an evil world. Since the 
 bonds were lost to him it mattered not who gained them — whether 
 Bourbon, bandit, or bridegroom. 
 
 At length the hour of their departure came. The luggage was 
 heaped up in a huge waggon. Another waggon was ready to take 
 the ladies, and horses were prepared for the gentlemen. With 
 these a troop of horsemen was sent as a guard. 
 
 As they passed out through the gates Don Carlos stood and 
 bade them all farewell. 
 
 So they passed forth on their way to liberty, and home, and 
 happiness ; and so they moved along, until at Jeiigtli the Castle, 
 with its hoary walls, its lofty towers, its weather-beaten turrets 
 and battlements, was lost in the distance. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BILL1^'0 AND aOMS, VKINTEIW, OVILDFORO AND LONDON. 
 

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