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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par M premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symbolas suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole ■-*■■ ignifie "A SUIVRE", le synrbole V signifie ' fIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction dfffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 "■. PMP A CASTLE IN SPAIN. V. X^ i/n " r^^ f /T ■^')K • ,/■ 'icr" m-.-m The bench tilted up^ and his royal penon went d(m>n. CASTLE IN SPAIN / A NOVEL BY JAMES DE MILLE % II )) n CHATTO AND WINDUS, 1884 PICCADILLY All rights resen,'ed fl ni I VI XI XII xn XV XV] CONTENTS. 1 [niAPTER I. HOW A TARTY OF TRAVELLEHS SET OUT ON' A .lOURN^IY II. HOW MR. ASHHV MEET.S WITH A VERY DEAR AND VERf LOVELY YOl'XG FRIEKD , ' • t , nr. now ashry meets with another FRiE.vn, and how he TAKES HIM INTO HIS CONFIDENCE * • • rv. HOW THE RAILWAY TilAIN COMES TO A Sl'DDEN STOP V. MOW THE WHOLE TARTY COME TO GRIEF, AND ARE CARRIED AWAY CATTIVE . VI. HOW HARRY AND KATIE MANAGE TO ENJOY THEMSELVES IN THEIR CAPTIVE STATE VII, IN WNICH HARRY RECOMES CONFIDENTIAL, AND TELLS A VERY REMARKABLE STORY VIII. HOW THE SPANISH PRIEST MEETS WITH A STRANGE ADVENfURE 35 IX. IN WHICH THE PRIEST SEES A VISION, AND GOES IN SEARCH OP A BREAKFAST X. HOW THE PRIEST BEARDS A LION IN HIS DEN . XI. HOW THE FIRST PRIEST VANISHES, AND ANOTHER PRIEST APPEARS rPON THE SCENE ' • . , XII. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT TAKE TO FLIGHT XIU. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT MAKE SEVERAL NEW ACQUAINTANCES 63 XIV. HOW THE ANXIOUS RUSSELL SEEKS TO CONCEAL A TREASURE . 67 XV. IN WHICH RUSSELL UNDERGOES AN EXAMINATION . 74 XVI. HOW RUSSELL HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH A MERRY M0N.1rCH . 81 11 ir. 19 27 43 48 52 f)7 t I vi coxrr.xTs. xvu. now MAiiio' iiNos llI^tHK^^• vKiiv mitii ovKn-EsTiM.\TEt), am. AKTEHWARO LKJIITs ITON A GLOOMY MYf^TKllV . . «; XVIII. IN WHICII HAUUY VIKLDH TO AN I'NCONTnOLLAnLK IMrtl.SE, ANimiSKS HIS LIFE IN A KAUINiJ AinENTLIlK . . 1 XIX. IN WHICII DOLOHKS INDILOES IN ^S0M1•: HE.MINI.SCEN(.'ES OK Till; PAST ....... 101 XX. IN WHICH • HIS MAJESTY ' EXHIIHTS THE EMOTIONS OF A ROYAL llOSOM, AND MRS. Rl'JSELL IS DAZZLED IIY A BRILLIANT PROSPECT . . . . . . lO? XXI. IN WHICH imOOKE AND TALBOT BEGIN TO GROW VERY WELL ACQUAINTED , . . . . . HQ XXII. HOW TALBOT HAS LIFE AND FREEDOM OFFERED, AND HOW SHE DECLINES THE OFFER . . . .11" XXm. IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT EXCHANGE CONFIDENCES . 122 XXIV. IN WHICH BROOKR AND TALBOT STAND FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH . . . . . . .129 XXV. IN WHICH BROOKE SINGS AND TALKS IN A LIGHT AND TRIFLING MANNER . ' . . . . . . \% XXVI. HOW MR. ASHBY MEETS WITH A GREAT SURPRISE AND A VERY GREAT CONSOLATION . . . . .11] XXVII. HOV/ MR. ASHBY AND MISS DOLORES GARCIA CARRY ON A VERY INTERESTING CONVERSATION . . . . 1 17 XXVIIL IN WHICH ' HIS MAJESTY* FALLS IN LOVE . . l.'l XXIX. HOW HARRY PAYS ANOTHER VISIT, AND BIEETS WITH A STRANGE ADVENTURE ..... l.'>.'i XXX. HOW SEVERAL OF OUR FRIENDS FIND THEMSELVES IN A MOST EXTRAORDINARY SITUATION . . . I'O XXXI. IN WHICH THE WHOLE PARTY FIND THEMSELVES IN A HAUNTED CASTLE . . . . .103 XXXII. IN WHICH HARRY MAKES AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY . .107 XXXIII. IN WHICH THERE IS A VERY PRETTY QUARREL . .171 X| r COXTJIXTS. Vll MATF.Ii, ANit . ,>7 . IM C'KS OP Till: . 101 OK A nOVAL DUILLIANT . 10'. VEHY WELL . 110 ANn now . 117 NCE.S . 12'2 PACE WITH . 12? lAi'Tri: VM.r. IXXIV. now TliE VlllTlOLS l(ls-,KLL KFSn.S A FHIES'D IN NKF.Ii . 170 XXXV. IN WHICH TWO Fl'OITIVES HAVK A STARTLING ADVENTIIIE, NOT WITHOUT I'EniL , , . . .185 [XXXVI. HOW DANCEHS THICKEN AROrND THE DESPAmiNU niSHELL . If 8 "!^XXVII. IN WHICH Ill-iSELL MAKES NEW FIIIKNDS, AND TALHOT MEEH NEW I'EUILS . . . . . .102 tXVni. IN WHICH, AKTEH A SKIUEM OF .SrHPKISES, ' HIH MAJESTY' liETS THE tillKATEHT SlItl'IUsE O!' ALL . . .' 19S XXXIX. HOW I.OI'EZ AGAIN MEETS WITH KATIE, AND HOW KATIE HUOWA NO JOY AT HER DELIVEUANCK . . . 20.' XL. IN WHICH THEItE SEEMa SOME CHANCE OF A TRIANGULAR DUEL ...... 208 XLI. HOW THE UNHAPI'V RUSSKLL FINDS THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH EDGE-TOOLS ..... 212 XLII. IN WHICH DOLORE.S RKAPPEAllS IN THE ACT OF MAKINO A RECONNOITRE ...... 210 XLIII. HOW K.\TIK FEELS DEJECTED, AND HOW LOPEZ FEELS DIS- APPOINTED ...... 220 XLIV. HOW LOPEZ HAS ANOTHER CONVKRS.VTION WITH KATIE, AND FEELS PUZZLED ..... . 224 XLV. IN WHICH HARHV ASKS A FAVOUR, AND LOPEZ BEGINS TO SEE A LITTLE LIGHT . . . . . .22? XLVI. IN WHICH LOPEZ MAKES A FRESH ASSAULT, AND K.\TIK BREAKS DOWN UTTERLY , , . , .231 XLVII. IN WHICH LOPEZ USES HIS ADVANTAGE TO THE UTTERMOST, AND KATIE SINKS INTO DEEPER DESPAIR . . . 235 XLVTII. HOW LOPEZ GOES TO SEE THE PRIEST ABOUT HIS MARRIAGE . 239 XLIX, HOW LOPEZ INVITES HARRY TO HIS WEDDING, AND HOW HARRY MAKES A DISTURBANCE .... 244 L. HOW LOPEZ INVITES THE PRIEST TO MARRY HIM, AND HOW THE PRIEST MAKES A DISTURBANCE . . .248 m •• • Vlll CONTENTS. ■II' CHAPTEK PA(.K LI. IN WHICH AN INTERRUPTION OCCURS IN A MARRIAGE CEREMONY ...... 2^2 MI. IN WHICH TALBOT TAKES OFF HER DISGUISE . . 257 LIII. WHICH TELLS OF A REUNION OF VERY DEAR OLD FRIENDS . 200 LIV. IN WHICH A NUMBER OF PEOPLE FIND THEMSELVES IN A VERY EMBARRASSING SITUATION .... 2Gl LV. HOW HARRY AND KATIE DISCUSS THE SITUATION, AND ASHBY TELLS DOLORES HER DUTY . . . .271 LVI. IN WHICH THERE IS A TERRIBLE CALAMITY , . 275 LVII. IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT PREPARE TO BID EACH OTHER AN ETERNAL FAREWELL . . . .278 LVIII. IN WHICH SOME OLD FRIENDS REAPPEAR . . .283 LIX. HOW A SURPRISE-PARTY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED . . 290 LX. IN WHICH THE KING COMES TO CLAIM HIS OWN . . 293 LXI. IN WHICH THERE IS AN END OF MY STORY . . . 298 The statio Throi dvili; mingl steam and F men : entrau ordiua of me aombr beariii of the beftnii eyes, fuxeu chaliu caaei At peopl( Men 1 Tin elderl evidei name] airay Ipic TAOK i MARRIAGt . 252 . 257 FRIENDS . 2C0 ELVES IN A . 2Gi AND ASHBY BID EACH D . 271 275 278 2S3 290 293 298 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. CHAPTER I. 'how a p^\rty of travellers set out ox a journey. The train for the Xortli was about to start from ^Madrid, aud the station was lilled witli tlie usual varied aud bustling crowd. Throngs of soliliers were there ; throngs of priests ; throngs of civilians ; throngs of ])easants ; all moving to and fro, i.^ter- mingled with the railway em])loy6s, and showing the power of atoam to stir up even the lazy Spaniard to unwonted punctuality and portentous activity. lu the midst of this busy scene two mtfi stood apart, each by himself, with eyes fixed upon the entrance, as though expecting some one whose advent was of no ordinary importance. One of these was an unmistakable Spaniard, df medium size, dark complexion, penetrating black eyes, and SOttibre countenance. His dress was that of a civilian, but his bearing was military, and his face and general expression savoured of the camp. The other w as an Englishman, with all his country beiniiug in Ins face, tall in stature, light in complexion, with gray He had a thin moustache, He stood in an easy, non- eyes, and open, frank expression maen side whiskers, and no beard. chalant attitude, with an eye-glass stuck in one eye, and a I'ght ca&e in his hand, which he switched carelessly upon his leg. .;A.t length the two were roused by the approa* h of a party of pie who were undoubtedly the very ones for whom they had jsn thus waiting. iThis party consisted of three persons. First, there was an ierly man, florid, stoutisli, and fussy — the Paterfamilias of inch, with a dash of the heavy father of comedy. He was ently in a terrible strait, and halting between two opinions, t'ly, whether he should stay and watch over his family, or go }' and see after his luggage. hen there was a lady of certain or uncertain age — a faded, ihed-out blonde, who surveyed the scene with r, mixture of idatiou aud caution. Neither of these, however, could have 1 II 2 A CASTLE IN SPAIN. had any interest in the eyes of the two watchers ; and it mus have been the third member of this pa' ty wlio hadjud thoiu t( lie ill wait. In truth, this third one see».ied well worthy of suc's attention. She was a young lady, of slight and elegant figure ; with a swttt and lovely face, round, arch, full of liveliness, merrimeut, aul volatility, which were expressed in every glance of her sparkHi,. eyes. And while the man fidgeted and the woman fussed, tLi^ young person stood with admirable self-possession, looking rouni inquiringly, as though she too might be expecting some one, Paterfamilias hesitated a little longer, and then made up hi; mind, for, telling die ladies to wait, he hurried away after his luggage. No sooner had he gone than the two young men, Avhc had held back till then, hurried to the spot. The Englishiaai reached it first. The elder lady, on seeing him, stared for .u instant, and then abruptly turned her back, thus giving him tli- cut direct in the most pointed and insulting manner. In tliiis turning she found herself face to face with the Spaniard, -wLj made a very ceremonious bow, saying : * It gif me mooch pleasure, Madame Eussell, to pay my respett-^, an' to weesh the good-day.' At this the lady hesitated, as though intending to give this man also the cut, but finally she chose to be gracious ; so extend- ing her hand, she said : ' Thanks, Captain Lopez, I'm glad to see you, for Mr. Paisstli has left us, and I'm a little frightened in this crowd.' * Oh, then,' said Lopez, ' I hope to haf the honnaire to coudut you to the cai'riage, and to say the adios.' *0h, thanks,' said Mrs. Russell, 'I shall really feel very much obliged.' Now the Euglishman had scarcely seemed to notice the insult of Mrs. Russell ; for, brushing past her, he had instantly advanced towards the young lady aforesaid, and. seized her haud with a quick, strong, hungry grasp. And the young lady afore- said, whose eyes had been fixed on him as he advanced, grasped his hand also, while a flush passed over her lovely face, and her eyes rested upon him with a look which might well thrill througli and through the favoured recipient of such a glance. * Why, Mr. Ashby !' said she, in innocent surprise, * you hero! * Katie,' said Ashby, in a tremulous voice, ' little darling,' lie continued, in a lower tone, ' didu't you know that I'd be here I' ' Well, I should have felt disappointed,' said Katie softly, 'if you had not been here.' At this moment Mrs. Russell turned, and said sharply : * Come, Katie.' ' All right,' said Ashby coolly ; ' I'll see Misa Westlotorn ou board the train.' 01 A CASTLE Ly SPAIX. ers ; and it mns: hadjcd tlicm t( •f sue' J attention, re ; with a swttt , merriment, aud of her aparkliu,; )man fussed, tLiJ )u, looking rouni. g some one, lieu made up hi, :l away after lii* young men, ^vlio The Englislnii.ii: 03, stared for ai. 3 giving him tlit anner. In tlui^ e Spaniard, wU paymyrespott>, iug to give this ions ; so extenij- for Mr. Ptusseli wd.' inaire to coudut feel very miicli lotice the insult had instantly seized her hauJ ung lady afore- .'anced, gras])e(i y face, and her thrill througli !e. se, *you here! lie darling,' he I'd be here \ latie softly, ' if larply : iVestlotoru ou Mrs. Euasell looked vexed. ' Katie,' said she, ' I wish you to stay by me.' ♦Oh yes, auntie dearest,' said Katie, with her usual self- )ssession ; * of course I shall.' But she made not the slightest movement to leave Asliby, aud lis annoyed Mrs. lUissell all the more. She looked all around, though for help. The Spaniard's eyes were all ablaze with ^rath and jealousy, ' JNIadame Russell,' said he, in an eager voice, ' commanda me, jbeg, I shall help.' Tiiese words wore plainly audible to Ashby, who, however, ilv smiled. 'Madame,' said Lopez, still more eagerly, 'commanda me. ball I condut the mces i' For a moment Mrs. Russell seemed inclined to accept ihe prof- l^rred aid, but it was only for a moment. The good lady was ttmid. She dreaded a scene. A quarrel in so public a place between these two jealous and hot-headed youths would be too terrible, so she at once gave way. . ' Oh no, no,' she said hurriedly. * Thanks, Cajttain Lopez, I lliink I shall ask you to conduct me to our carriage. Mr. Russell Hill be with us immediately.' ; Upon this Lopez otlered his arm, which !Mrs. Russell took, and i||»ey both went ott". Asliby followed slowly with Katie. * Katie,' said he, after a ])ause, * I'm going too.' i! ' What !' said Katie in a joyous voice, ' in this train V 'Yes, along with you.' ' How perfectly lovely !' said Katie, which expression showed tfcat these two were on very good terms with one another. * But fhen, you know,' she resumed, ' Mi-. Russell has the carriage for 1^ only.' ? * Oh, well, it's all the same,' said Ashby. ' I'm going on in the ikme train. That will be happiness enough. But see here,' he ijided in a hurried voice, ' take this letter ;' and with this he t pped a letter into her hand, which she instantly concealed iu Hier pocket. * I'll see you to-night at Burgos,' he continued in a few tone, ' and then at Biarritz or Bayonne. I have friends in ^th places. You must do what I ask you. You must be mine. %o\\ must, darling. Don't mind these confounded Russells. ley're nothing to you, compared with me. Russell has no right interfere. He's not your uncle ; he's only a miscra'j^j lardian ; and he's a contemptible scoundrel too, aud I told hira to his face. He's planning to get you to marry that cad of a |>n of his. But read my letter. Make up your mind to-day, irliug. I'll see you to-night at Burgos.' Ashby poured forth this in a quiet, low, earnest voice as they iversed the short space that lay between them and the cars, 1—2 I A CASTLE LY SPAIN. while Katie listened in silence. Meanwhile the others had reached a carriage, which Mrs. Russell entered : Lopez immediately followed. 'Oh, look!' cried Katie; 'Captain Lopez has gone into our carriage. He must be going to travel with us.' ' The infernal sneak !' growled Ashby. * But then,' he con- tinued, ' what's the use of that ? He can't go. Why, old Sussell hates him worse than me.' At this moment Mrs. Russell put forth her head. ' Katie !' she called, in a thin, shrill voice. * Yes, auntie dear,' said Katie. ' In a moment,' chimed in Ashby. ' Perhaps I'd better go,' said Katie ; * she's so horrid, you know.' ' Then,' said Ashby, ' good-bye for the present, my own darling.' Saying this, he took her in his arms and deliberately kissed her two or three times. Katie then darted away and entered tho carriage, to find Mrs. Russell speechless with indignation. The moment Katie had gone, up came Russell in a fury. ' Look here, sir !' he cried, shaking his fist at Ashby. * I say, sir ! Look here, sir ! You scoundrel ! Didn't I tell you ' * And look here, you !' said Ashby, in a stern voice, laying his hand heavily on the other's shoulder, * none of this insolence, my good man, or I shall have to teach you better manners. You know perfectly well that Katie is engaged to me, and that I meau to make her my wife.' * You shall never !' cried Russell passionately ; * never — never I' 'Pooh !' exclaimed Ashby contemptuously. ' I'm her guai'dian,' said Russell. ' That may be,' said Ashby calmly, ' but only for a few months longer. I can wait. Don't be alarmed.' * You shall never marry her !' * Pooh, my good man ! attend to your luggage.' Muttering inarticulate threats, mingled with curses, Russell now stamped off, and entered the carriage. Here he found Lopez. At the sight of this man his fury burst all bounds. With Ashby he had felt under some restraint ; but with Lopez there was nothing of the kind, and he ordered him out in the most insulting manner. Lopez, however, refused to stir, telling him that Madame Russell had given him permission to remain. ' Madame Russell be hanged !' roared the other, of this, or else I'll kick you out !' 'No, seiior,' said Lopez coolly, 'I advisa you not to try violencia.' For a moment Russell measured him from head to foot ; but the sight of the sinewy young Spaniard did not reassure hiiu. His own musclea were somewhat flabby, and by no means fit for ' You get out ^1 ' he others had )ez immediately gone into our then,' he con- Hiy, old Russell 1. so horrid, you ly own darling.' berately kissed md entered the ignatiou. The Lshby. * I say, tell you '' 'oice, laying his :s insolence, my manners. You |ud that I nieau never — never I' ' a few moutlis urses, Russell found Loi)ez. With Ashby )ez there was most insulting iig him that in. ' You get out not to try to foot ; hut reassure hiui. means fit for A CASTLE LY SPA/X. 5 struggle with this vigorous youth. So he chose another and a ifer mode. He sprang out and Ijegan to bawl loudly for the liiard. But, very unfortunately, Russell could not si)eak a \ford Spanish, and when the guard came up he could not explain ^imself. And so Russell, after all, might have had to travel with Us unwelcome companion had not an unexpected ally ai)peared lipon the scene. This was Ashby, who had been standing by, and lad comi^reheuded the whole situation. Now Ashby could speak Ppanish like a native. f ' See here, Russell,' said he, ' I don't mind giving you a lift. iJThat's the row i' I Ifussell hesitated for a moment, but his rage against Loj)ez liad i!|uite swallowed u]) his anger at Ashby, and he accepted the aid ((rf the latter. So he went on to explain what Ashby very well knew — the situation in the carriage. Ashby thereujwn explained to the guard. The guard then ordered Lopez out. At whidi summons the gallant captain thought tit to beat a retreat, which he etfeeted in good order, drums beating and colours flying, and ^th many expressions of polite regret to the ladies and many Ifrishes for a pleasant journey. Arriving outside, however, our iioble hidalgo found the blast of war blowing, and so he at once jjjroceeded to stifl'en his sinews and summon up his blood. Taking iio notice of Russell, he advanced to Ashby. 'Sefior,' said he in Spanish, 'for the part that you have taken this matter I will call you to account.' Ashby smiled disdainfully. * You have insulted me,' said Lopez fiercely. ' This insrltmust washed out in blood — your heart's blood or mine. I am going this train.' * Indeed ! So am I,' said Ashby. * We shall find a place — and a time.' * Whenever you please,' said the other shortly. * Sefior, I will communicate with you.' Both the young men bowed, and with their hearts full of hate ey sepai'ated to take their places in the train. And now at this rticular juncture there came forth from behind a pillar a _ male figure, which figure had been there for some time, and pad closely watched the whole of Ashby's proceedings from begin- liling to end. It was impossible to see her face, but her graceful iipaj)e, and quiet, active movements, indicated youth, and suggested possible beauty. This figure hastened towards the train, and filtered the very carriage into which Ashby had gone. The -j|ext moment the guard banged the door to behind her, the great well rang, the engine puffed and snorted, and then, with the roar M steam, the clank of machinery, and the rumble of many wheels, |he long train thundered out of the station on its eventful journey m the North. & A CASTLE IN SPAIX. I ! I |l' m HOW MR. CHAPTER II. ASIIBY MEETS WITH A VERY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND. AND VERY LOVELY On entevipg the carriage AshLy took a .seat and prepared t ) make himself comfortable for tiie journey. The hunicd events of the last few minutes, the farewell to Katie, the prospect of ;i new meeting at Burgos, the additional prospect of a hostili- encounter with Lopez, woi'e certninly sufficient food for reflection. Consequently he was in a ilt of abstraction so profound that lio did not notice the female who entered the carriage. As the train rolled out, the new-comer also made herself com- fortable in her seat, which, being opposite to that of Ashby, gaw her the opportunity of examining his face at her leisure, if she felt so inclined, while she herself was so closely veiled as to l)allli' recognition. Her dress, though very plain, was in the latest fashion, and she woi'e with inimitable grace that marvellous Spanish mantilla which is equally ada])ted to adorn and to conceal. Although in the opposite seat, she was not close to Ashby, Ijut at the other end of the carriage, in which position she could watch him the more easily. These two were the only occupants. Once or twice Ashby's eyes fell on her as he raised his head oi changed his position, but he paid no attention to her, nor did he even seem aware of her existence ; while she sat veiled, so that the direction of her glance could not be seen. For about half an hour the situation remained unaltered, and then at the end of that time the lady made a readjustment of hor mantilla, which exposed all her head and face. The hands wliicli were raised to perform this act were soft, round, plump, and dimpled, and might of themselves have attracted the admiration of one less preoccupied than Ashby ; while the face that was now revealed was one which might have roused the dullest of mortals. It was a dark olive face, with features of exquisite delicacy ; the eyes were large, lustrous, and melting, fringed with long lashes : the eyebrows delicately pencilled ; the hair rich black, glossy, anil waving in innumerable ripples. Her cheeks were dimpled, ami her lips were curved into a faint smile as she sat with a demure face and watched Ashby. It may have been a certain mesmerism in her gaze, or it may only liave been that Ashby had at last grown weary of his own thoughts, for suddenly'- he looked up, and caught her eyes iixed thus on him. For a moment an expres.^ior of astonishment filled his face ; then the smile of the lady deepened, and her eyes fell. At this Ashby jumped from his seat. * By heavens !' he exclaimed. * Dolores ! Oh, Dolores !' He uttered these words with a strange intonation, yet then mel < I A CASTLE /X SPA/X. VERY LOVKl.Y ul prepared to liuriicd evt'iits e prospect of a :t of a hostilr il for reflection, ofound that li..> le herself com- of Ashby, jiaw leisure, if sin- iled as to batllM « in the latest lat marvel lolls and to conceal, > Asliby, l)ut ,'il 18 could watch cu pants, ed his head or ler, nor did he veiled, so that unaltered, and ustment of hov hands wliicli plump, and le admiration that was now est of mortals. delicacy ; the long lashes: ck, glossy, and dimpled, aini ath a demure in mesmerism y had at last )oked up, anil an expressioi! of the lady ed from liis (lores !' on, yet there js joy in his eyes and in the tone of his voice, tocjcther with the wilder that had been at fust displayed. As he spoke he seized ||r hand in both of his, and, holding it fast, seated himself in the |ice immediately opposite. After a moment Dolores drew aw;iy hand with a light laugh. Ah, gcfior,' said she, 'you do not seem very quick at recognis- your old acquaintances.' iie spoke with the jiurest ("astillan accent, and the rich and Miellow tones of her voice were inexpressibly sweet. ' I— 1— had no idea— no idea that you were anywhere near. Tpu were the last — the very last person that I couUl have eilpected to see. How could 1 expect to see you here, Dolores I I'thought that you were still at Vahnicia. Are you alone /' W Yes— just now — from here to IJiu-gos, I am on my w\'iy to TWt my aunt at Panq)eluna. She is ill. jNlamnia could not csome with me, for she is ill too. So I have to travel alone. The good Tilila came with me to Madrid, but had to return to mannna. There waa no time to seek auother companion. Besides, it is Ollly from here to IJui'gos.' ;^0h, Doloi-es, little Dolores !' cried Ashby, Miow delightful it is fsee you again ! What a lucky chance !' 'But it was not altogether chance,' said Dolores. :^ How r »|* Why, I saw you.' J' ' Saw me V ,*Yes; I was watching you. You sec, I was in the station titing for the train, and saw you come in. I then watched you the time till you entered this carriage, and then I came here t|o. Now, sir !' |Sayiug this, Dolores tossed her pretty little head with a tri- fphant air, and smiled more bewitchingly than ever. , You see,' she continued, in the frankest and most engaging |auner, 'I was so veiled that no one could know me, and when saw you I was very glad indeed ; and I thought I would follow iu, and speak to you, and see if you had any remembrance left Ci| poor little me.' For a moment there was a shade of embarrassment on Ashby's tie, and then it passed. He took her hand and pressed it fer- „ ntly. I ' Dolores,' he said, ' dear little friend of mine, I can never for- Bt you as long as I live, and all that was tlone for me by you id yours. This sudden meeting with you is the most delightful |iing that could possibly have happened.' Dolores laughed, and again drew her hand demurely away ' But oh, Senor Ashby,' she said, * how absent you were in the sition ! — and here — not one look for the poor Dolores !' *0h, Dolores I' said Ashby, in a tone of tender apology, * how A CASTLE IS SPAIN. could I iinngiiie that it was ynu \ Yon were veiled so closil^ that lie one could recognise you. Why did you not wpiu before X 'Ah, seiior, young laciies iri Spain cannot he so bold as T Ik,, they are in Ent,danil. Even this is an indieard-of adventure- that I, a young"lady, shoidd travel alone. But it is a case (.f lit, and death, you know, and it is only from here to Burgos, wIkiv shall find friends. And then I wanted to speak to you once niun, And you, seiior — are you going to England now]' Again there came over AshV.y'a face a look of embarrasstnoiii His present journey was a delicate subject, which he could wa discuss very well with Dolores. ' Well, no/ he said, after a brief pause. ' I'm only going as f,ii as Bayonne— on business. Jiut how long it seems since 1 saw you Dolores ! It's more than a year.' 'And have I changed, aefior T she asked sweetly. 'Yes,' said Ashby, looking at her intently. Dolores returned his look with another, the intensity of wliirl; was wonderful to Ashby. He seemed to look into the depths oi her soul, and the lustrous eyes which were fastened on his aji- peared as though they strove to read his inmost heart. Hti manner, however, was light and bantering, and it was with a merry smile that she went on : 'Ah ! so I have changed 1 And ho,v, seiior— for the better I' * No, and yes,' said Ashby, drinking in her dark, deep, li(iiiiil glances. ' In the tiist place, you could not jiossibly be better oi more beautiful than you used to be ; but, in the second place, you are more womanlj'.' ' But I am not yet seventeen, seiior.' ' I know,' said Ashby, ' of course.' 'And you have not yet asked after the dear one— the mamma, who loves you so,' said Dolores, in rather an inconsequential way, ' I was thinking of you, so that all other thoughts were driven out of my head.' 'That's pretty,' said Dolores ; ' but do you not want to hear about the dear mamma V 'Of course. I shall love her and revere her till I die. Did slie not save my life % Was she not a mother to me in my sorest need And you, Dolores ' He stopped short, and seemed somewhat confused and agi- tated. * Y es,' said Dolores, in atone of indescribable tenderness ; 'yes she loved you — the dear mamma — like a mother, and has always talked about you. It is always, " Dolores, child, sing that soug that Seuor Assebi taught you ; sing that beautiful, beautiful English song of ' Sweet Home ' ; sing that sweetest, loveliest, most mournful Scottish song of ' Lo-^haber.' '' ' A CASTLE L\ SPAIX. veiled so cldsvli you not n\)v\\ 30 bold as I Ikm 1-of .•ulventiiie- it is Ji case of lit, llurgos, Avlicic , you once iuoim V enibarrassniciit ch he could n./, only going as f;ii 1 since 1 saw you tensity of \\\\h-\\ ito the depths oi ened on his ap- ost heart. Hti I it was with a 'or the better ;' rk, deep, li(|iiiil |bly be better oi cond place, yoi! — tlie mamma, sequential way, its were drivm want to hear die. Did sIk ly sorest need : hsed and ngi- :Ierness ; 'yes d has always |ing that soug ul, beautiful st, loveliest, And here, in a voice full of ex<|uisite tendernoas and ])alli<)s, Dolores sang that mournful air, ' Lochaber,' with Spanish words. 'he tender regret of her voice afl'ecteil herself ; she faltereil, and ier eyes tilled ; but the tears were instantly chased away by a lunny smile. ' And so, sen'or,' said she, ' you see that I have forgotten '.uthuig )f it — nothing.' Nor I,' said Ashby ; 'nor 1— nothing. I have forgotten not me thing.' His voice was low and tremulous. There was a strange, yearu- ■^g look in his eyes. With a suild u impulse he held out his |Eand, as though to take hers; but Dolores gently drew hers w|tway. ' And have you been in Madrid ever since V she asked, in a tone #at seemed to convey something of rein-oach. ♦ No,' said Ashby. ' You know, when J fell ill at Valencia, where you saved my life by your tender care, I was on my way to Barcelona. When I left you, I resumed my interrupted Journey. Then I went to Marseilles and Leghorn, then to Cadiz, |ud finally to iSIadrid. I've been in Madrid three months.' i * And you didn't think it worth while to write to us in all that long time I" said Dolores, with a reproachful ness in her tone which Iras now very marked. t 'Write/}' said Ashby; 'why, I wrote twice— once from Mar- iieilles, and once from Leghorn.' I * We never heard,' said Dolores sadly ; ' not once.' % * But I wrote,' said Ashby earnestly. ' Don't you believe me, iDolores V 1^ * Believe you, sefior ? What a question ! It was the fault of e post-ofhce in these times of trouble — that was all. And, nor, I am very glad to know all, for I did not know what to ink about it.' 'And am I forgiven, Dolores V Ashby asked. % Dolores replied with a sweet smile, and held out her hand, irhich the young man took and pressed tenderly, not caring to ifet it go. 'I did not know,' said he, ' there was anything against me to be rgiven ; but this is a sign that you are the same Dolores that |rou were a year ago.' ' Always,' said she, ' always the same ;' and then she withdrew ,er hand. * And now, sefior,' said she, with a perceptible effort, of one who approaclies a disagreeable subject, ' this beautiful Bgleesa — who is she ?' I Ashby's eyes fell before the fixed and profound inquiry of "^ose of Dolores, who watched him close, and lost nothing of '3 change of features. 'This lady?' said he, and hesitated. 10 .1 CASTLE IX SPALV. ' Yes,* said DoU^rcs f^i-iitly. 'She in a — a — ^Jiss \VeHtlut<»rn.' * And .«he loves you very, very, very dearly and tenderly,' saiil Dolores, in a quick, breathless voice ; 'and you are going to Ijo married to lier, and she will soon be your wife.' Ashby said nothiiifr, but sat looking strangely embarrassed. * Vou never meutioned her to us at Valencia,' continue I Dolores. ' No,' said Asliby, ' And why not /' asked Dolores, who saw his confusion, but was eager to know the truth. ' I had not seen her,' said Ashby. * You had not seen her,' rej)eate'd Dolores. ' Ah !' she licsitaltil for a moment and then went en — 'so you saw her afterwaiil. And she loves you !' These last words were spoken with indescribable tenderness and mournfulnes'^. 'And — she— loves — you,' she repeated, in a voice that had sunk almost to a whisper ; 'and she is to be your wife — the Engli,-Ji girl !' * Well,' said Ashby, making an eflfort to overcome his embarras.s- ment, ' it is— it is about time. The fact is, I— I did ask her to- to be my wife.' ' And she V 'She? "Well — she said she would, I think,' said Asliliy evasively. ' You think !' exclaimed Dolores. * ^\ i\\, you see, there's a difficulty.' 'A difficulty?' * Yes. Her guardian will not consent.' * But that is nothing,' said Dolores, in an animated tone. ' You must take her, and run .away with her.' Ashby looked at Dolores with a strange, eager, huugw gaze. ' But there's anothov objection,' said he. * Objection ? What is that V * I don't want to.' * What V asked Dolores in surprise. Ashby hesitated for a moment, and then said with an effort : * I thought before we left that I loved her ; but since I liavt seen you again— I feel — that I do not.' These words were spoken rapidly, in a low, feverish whisper, At first Dolores started as though she had been shot. Tlien slit averted her face, and held np her hands deprecatingly. ' Ah,' said she, in a sad voice, ' that is all idle, idle, idle, foolisli. foolish, foolish compliment, and nothing more. You must nut say that again, or I will never forgive you — never, never !' A CASTLE rX SPAIX. 1 1 tenderly,' .s.ni.l re going to lio nibarrasscd. ci;i,' continue 1 fusion, but w;i> !' she licsitrtliii her afterwaiil. iblo tencloriit>i ; that had sunk 'e— the Engli.-Ii ; his enibarras.>^. iti ask her tu- said Ashl IV id tone. * You eager, huugrv th an effort : it since I haw rish whisper, lot. Tiieu silt e, idle, foolisli, iTou must not never !' It this Ashby was brought back to \nA senses with a suddm whoIoHonio Hhoik, and said no more upon that point, la he now felt afraid that ho had said altogether too much. CILVrTEll IIT. ASIIRY MEETS WITH ANOTHKIl FRrKXD, ANT) HOW UK TAKIvS niM INTO HIS CONFIDKNCK. TKAT ev(Miing they arrived at Burgo.s, wiiere, on accotnit of tfinblos along the line, the train was to remain until ton o'clock on the following day Dolores informed Ashby that she was gqfog to stay with frieuvls, and refuse'' to allow him to accoTU- Ky her to the house, in spite f»f his earnest entreaties. She been in IJurgos before, she said. The house was not far from the station, and she was linn in her resolve to go alone. Aihby followed her, however, and saw her pass in safety through the streets and into a largo and venerable house not far from tho CStthedral. lie then retraced his stops, and made the best of his WW to the Fonda del Norte, where he put up for the night. JHere, after dinner, he loitered about for a time, nieditatiu'f Ofer the events of the day, and conjecturing about the morrow. Hki situation was growing somewhat complicated ; for there was B[|ltie, whom he had promised to see cat Burgos ; but on leaving tbi train he had followed Dolores, and now he had not the ftlBitest idea where the Russells had gone. They were not iit tjbe Fonda del Norte. It was also too late now to hunt them up, and too late to hope to see Katie. That must be postponed till ^ morrow. |A.shby was beginning to feel more melancholy than ever in his life before, when suddenly he was roused by a loud exclamation. * Well, by .Jove ! Halloo, old boy ! Ashby himself, by all that's wonderful !* "jA-t this Ashby looked up, and the next instant he was heartily llipngiug the hand of the new-comer. ^ ■* Elvers ! Harry llivers ! How are you, my boy ] and where in the world did you come from ]' * By Jove! do you know, old fellow,' said Harry Rivers, *I Oill this no end of a piece of good luck ? I've been bored to death at Burgos. But come along to my rooms and give an account of yourself.' The two friends then went off, and soon were comfortably mated in the rooms of Harry Rivers, with some flasks of wine and Havanas to help along the evening hours. Harry Rivers was of about the same age as Ashby, but totally dfcttferent in appearance. He was of medium height, very well knit in his frame, and very well dressed. His hair was crisp and oirliug ; his brow broad and opan ; his eyes full of light, and 18 A castij: rx spaix. lift', and volatility. Jfo li;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 '6 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I li;|28 •« -,. I 1 2.5 2.2 1.8 1.25 i 1.4 ^ ^ VQ /J ^;; Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 145 AO (716) 872-4503 V iV ^% V ^ \ \ o^ '^^^ ^i; '«?) ^ w > it 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/\' *\h\ "i> It Hi I I'liiUM -ll (lll>'t|<,* ■iliil ' Iti I M (ji'il \ / ' H(. |||\|< III illuop •\\\ ii'hH im iindiiiil, rinil Ini' lnlimil ill mil Imilv i<>'iiil't, MM noMi'i, nn ti 11 1 iM. im' I li'iMil't ) Ini mm, 'in' ) Imih Ii IIi'I'i, mii' • nini. <n <>' ll:ni< :» I I) :t( Itl.f (1 pli\:»|i' p illl lilllIM ' t Ml, "\niii Miji'ilv ' ' 'iiiil IM I I Hiiti'ii'll, ill ti I il!j;t|!"liMij.; lone, ' )»<>« \ I'l \ . \ I I < in. I' i( iim I Ix- '' 'h ii Hi »1. I'l .1 I.I (liil- (liiiii' Ini \.<ii.* 'iilil Mil't M'lii'h * ' An MiMi> it'i nil II II tli.il I llii' piiiiiil luiii llii'i iIm\ :iI liinlin' lli:il Vi'V I'tni )Mil I lliiiii' hlli'» pli'lfllii'll nil KIM I'v'l M:iji"ilv ' All, HHi>,' 'linlii'il I\hi liii'iMi'll, wliiiM- i'\i'>i Irll in uliv tin l';nv;Hnnriil lii'lmt- llii> tlM-'liiin imi <• kI' ' liii KIuji'iIn ' An," »ri\nnril ' lii-i M.i jc il \ ,' ' lli;il 'H'l'iiu-il lil<i' I In !i\ >imii In <'iii l'\ IjMMMOM ll.ni" nillnl lnii:l(i'l\ i Klllpllliil lli In i|il;lill \ !'• , lull \\i> linpo il 11 l>i> ;ill Hiilil. nn' lli.il \"'|| 111" fill Mill llii:iili>i| W ,< llnii'^l >\i>"ll Im' :iI>I<< In mini' In Icnntiii iiv ii mtl iMl'inlm s t li;i V.^.li'V.' A nun mnv fntti»« (>it rii>tn Mii liii-iii'll. ' \ll:m'i ;\\ ••l.ili", .I'lil iniiiil ' Iim IM:i it"^i| \ ,' ' dm 'in'l ullmv ii'i In jiivo <n)l ;»n' I'no y\:\\ (n ihil juniil liiii|iirtiiniiil lliiir-inni ilnli" nn' l.i\ilin?) I;i\lnii> H'l w .w Ininic nn\\ 'm il i-i, mm' mir I'vl 1\»ninil M iinl In l»i> Ii.umI \, n\ mI.ix h', mm nil liiinl III!' W III will nlli V.n lii'llinU'4 nnl<|i\ i ninpilM M'< lt» v;i\ jiiifn lliini In nlii>iii>Mrt' l>v f.»n>'i> ;n invnm>«. An' Mn« , imiil mm nn' l.nlii'M,* inMliniii'il 'Iim Al,ll<w<\," ;ll(i>V M ImIi'I' p,»n';i'. ' I lin|ii« \ t' • wnll'l fi'i«l lllill I IIIIU'iI at \\li;»l I in <>nini: |.<'ii\ ni\l, \ c )in riiiiii' Mini'illii'i li:i>i «nn\o>«Nl In nin \ A I (\n < li.n ;m<i ji', niiil \nin wmlliv IiiihIimihI nv ;\ \\ w '^nnil^lo n:il ni i' ' ' Nl\ Iwi'^lwuil !' »'\il;unii'»l Mv«. lui'".-l| • Wliiil ! niy .Inlm / o\\ y ■ ' Vi-i.' <s,nM ' 1ii>» M.<i("^l\ * ' I'm lin>M llml ln'''4 Ih'oii iKiM'Miiif IliuVioll nil ;\H l.nvd .Iniwi Ixnmcll. Ilin Piiinn INI iliinl lit'i mv I'.njil.uii). -.xw' ;\>A l)\o Mpii'i.il lunlvmiMiIni' n\llir;iMnliMMrv I'miii nm v'v'l «^^\\«ul. Ihn «^hK»nn ;i\ l\nj>l.inil, In in\ isiliyiiln llii' hImIi* ;iv .•ilY.ni's \\\ Njvwn. \xiil ;n» ni In r,i> cm'.nil inn mv niir I'v'l clMinii As sMt'li vo"\o luninnvrd Iniu \>ilh mm Miiji'Mrc, mm' I'miiMiMMii .ilril to 1un\ swumI st.\to sMv«Mil>« m\ m l\i<ilil\ Mn|tnilMM( MMlnro. \( \\\:\{ tnin\o ]w \\\\\{ mm' Iu^ twK nnjou miI\ mmImim' mv om- cnMriiliiici' to ti«^sM\\o n\n v'\ 1 ninind. I'pnn llin iIjm.'iWi'iv mv Wwn nlliiiM' 1 tVlt tlw^ KjVMUst snvvn\\ . \\o\ I'm liiin. iMilic^, luil l"nr vnii ; mm' H'm t\M- vn\U' SMK«^^» th;\< I nnw i'nn\n Iumi', (n ,MMsni»> vnn (iv Miy IimiIi'I' iviujwthy, Mu" alsv> to m\ mI'ouI tlio fax. Ih Iio IjohI .IoIim \ WISSO \\r Mi-s. KnssoU 1\M(1 -M CwM fr I io;nl\ to fMinI mI lliiM woeful tli'»- olos\nv. h\\\ sho tolt tlu' ovo of ni,\j(<«ly Vi'sliMij on Iii<r, ninl flic s,\\v sonuMlunji tluMV that \i\>ssiU('il hor. Sln> nfliMwavd Inl'l Krttio. in o»>nlivUMuv. tliat slio ooiiM nnilorsland oNMotly how i,^\uvn V.sthov hi\d iVll whou AIumuovus hoUl out hit) aoi'plio. I ' I // / /v '^r \f\\ »"/ ' \li, "ill" • tilif |i(tli»il ''•'•, V't'M rii'mJ («f"i' i'ttiM M/ij<'if/! Ill' j'lii'l )|Mtl" fi t'liil, iiiii', it') Imik, liiit III'' I ri i«<'ril|"rtriii ' ' fill), f.. "Im, , II, , I . I), ,1(1.; Mfiiil ' lii'i M'i)'M»v ' ' hr,!,'' f Vu',-> il / MM "II 'If ijiM'.l I If 'I ti (Mill ll' Ml II II, >i(i III' j.l^ i vcr / ill' ll 17 III III ; fill' Vil Mi'tV I "'■, IM'nl'IIIK', \vl 111 Ml'|i|«' lllMl I'l.iyltMll f'l ll»« /I I'.t il i'lll linlijl lii'lli /' 'Mil. \<iMi iuvmI Miijc'ily '''li'l Mim lfi|M.i«ll, in <l' fp 'li-if r/""i 'M|ijil;i' "M. fiiii mm' III III' III '.II. I (iii(.^' ii'ijil lii-i \| ijcl/j' willi |iM'i»l (Milltmliv '.^^|i'il' "II 'Mil I ,'l li'i.i'.Mi'i f ill, .!'( if. i>i, ;i / liiiiliiiil itiiil till i iil't I'livi'i T'lHli yi I xl'ii y inl'i '.m I'y'l ''.'it. ( nMH' III ulll'llll I < 'iMK' MVM ||I'|I' (III' ';il li/ 'illl I ' y I Mi<|«' ' Hll viM,M Mli'l, ' lii'l Mm jf "»l V ' MI'iVmI «iV«.f I'l iilio ««M'I 'if Ml" li'li' Il 'ilnl "ll Illl I" I iif'iiliiiiMlilv, M'( li»> |iIm'»'| liiMi'<ir '((I III*. I nIii'MII. I ll'l, Illl- III III ll lilli'l l||l |l||l| Ml" I'i/mI |i' I UiM V (if, iI'Mvii Is'ilii', wli'i wmi iilwMV'i v'( I y vil'ililc, filNicI (iniliM/, Mini |lii|iiii I i|ii| llii. ndiiio. I'liil 'III' \1;i ji'it y ' ''I'll' ll'l 'iff'd'fi. Till' Illl I il. Ill' l'iiin|iii| liiiiiMi ir, iiii'l li'tic il, nil i(i,i((ii,i(iiiii'ii(i| /, ill Imi I iM\Mir, III' |.' ll'l Immi'^' ir ii|i (iM iiifrildy ii-i !i ' 'iMiMi'ifi jii'l 'Hill II III III In I' i|i .||i. ' 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.' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 IfBSI I.I 2.5 2.2 2.0 1.8 '•25 1 '-^ ' ^ 6" ►> V] <^ /a /a 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation \ A !> •^ :\ \ % 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 C>^' q\- i 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 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) k A {/ ^ J^^4i. A '^.% id. < ^o % u. B % « ! 1.0 I.I 1.25 l:^ |2.8 1 2.5 i^" lis IIIIIM iiiiim U 11 1.6 V t? /i ^1 > Photographic Sciences Corporation 4 4* ^\^ ^ :\ \ <<». '»?.^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4503 u. s 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. , H, I L