WHICH TELLS OF A REUNION OF VERY DEAR OLD FRIENDS.
While Brooke and Talbot were thus conversing, others were indulging in the
same pursuit, and none to better purpose than 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 nerves than those of Katie.
So completely was she prostrated, that under any other circumstances
nothing could have saved her from a fit of sickness, which might possibly
have resulted in brain-fever and terminated fatally, for all I know; but
fortunately, under these actually existing circumstances, she was spared
all this. The presence of Harry made all the difference in the world.
After retiring from the scene of conflict, they ascended into that upper
chamber in which Katie had last been imprisoned, and here they seated
themselves so that Katie might rest, supported by Harry's encircling arms,
and at the same time be refreshed by the fresh air. Katie now began to
rally with the rapidity which is characteristic of buoyant natures, and
soon began to show something of her usual lightness of heart. Harry,
however, though most tender and affectionate, seemed changed, and the
change was soon detected by Katie's quick perception.
"What is the matter with you?" she asked. "You don't seem glad at all."
"Oh yes," said Harry. "I'm very glad indeed."
He spoke in a doleful tone of voice, which was by no means in accord with
his words.
"Your voice don't sound very glad," said Katie, reproachfully, "and you
look troubled. You are so preoccupied that you can't say anything. But I
suppose you feel the effects of that awful scene--and oh, how awful it
was!"
Katie relapsed into silence, and Harry felt somewhat relieved; for in
truth he was preoccupied, and had much on his mind.
It was the thought of Talbot that filled his mind. It was she whom he had
seen in that priest's disguise. It was his affianced bride 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 honor? Honor! The name now seemed a mockery. Which way
would honor impel him? To give up Katie? What! when she had given up all
for him? What! when he had fought a mortal quarrel with Ashby for her?
Honor! Was not honor due to Ashby? and had he not been a traitor to his
friend?
There was this fight yet before him, and it would be soon; for Ashby was
free. A fight for Katie! And Talbot was here! She would know all. And
she--she who had come all the way from England, who had found him not, who
had imagined herself deserted--she would learn of his perfidy. The thought
was horrible.
Upon such agonizing thoughts as these came Katie's question,
"Why are you so sad?"
Harry sighed.
"I'm thinking of Ashby," said he. "He's free now. He'll soon be 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 off thinking about Ashby, for she too
seemed preoccupied.
"I think it's a great shame," said she.
"What?"
"Why, for Mr. Ashby to come bothering me just now."
Harry said nothing, and they both relapsed once more into silence.
The harder task was before Harry. There were two for him to face. One, the
friend to whom he had been traitor; the other, his betrothed, to whom he
had been false. Of these two the latter was by far the worse. He had faced
Ashby already, and could face him again, as a mortal enemy, to fight a
mortal battle; but Talbot! Ah! with what eyes could he look upon that pure
and noble face? with what words could he address her?
Katie's thoughts seemed to be running in that channel which Harry was
using for his own; for she suddenly looked at him with earnest scrutiny,
and said, abruptly,
"But you are as bad."
"As bad?"
"As bad as me."
Harry sighed.
"Mr. Ashby," said Katie, innocently, "will want to see you too, you know."
"Of course," said Harry.
"Oh well, then," said Katie, "I needn't see him at all. You can explain it
all; for really I hardly know what I can possibly find to say to him."
"I'm afraid," said Harry, "that he will insist on seeing you, and on
learning his fate from your own lips."
"His fate!" said Katie--"oh dear!"
"I would take all the difficulty from you if I could," said Harry, "but I
don't see how I can."
"Oh well," said Katie, cheerfully. "Perhaps he will not be in any very
great hurry to see me, after all. He did not seem very anxious about me in
the room below. He did not look like a maniac. He did not remonstrate with
Lopez. He did not draw his pistol and attack the captain in the midst of
his men. He did not fight for me, and risk his life. No; he thought too
much of his own dear self, and left all the fighting and all the risk 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. Come, Harry, let us wait no longer, but if this meeting has to be,
let it be now."
Katie poured forth these words in an impetuous torrent, and, starting up,
led the way out. Harry followed, and thus they descended the stairway to
the lower hall.
Ashby had gone out shortly after Harry and Katie, following Dolores, who
was anxious to see about the gates. The six Carlists followed. The gates
were wide-open, and far away a few of the fugitives could still be seen
flying as fast as their feet could carry them. The six Carlists soon had
the gates firmly closed and barred, and mounted guard here, deeming this
to be the weak point of the castle; and thinking, too, that if an enemy
appeared, he would consider six men at the gate a sign that six hundred
were in the garrison.
Russell had followed the six Carlists, thinking that with them he would be
safer than anywhere else. Rita had now a horror of those Carlists whom she
had betrayed, and, as he thought, would venture anywhere rather than into
their presence.
And now the good man felt quite martial. This new change in his situation,
and the inspiring presence of his military friends, made him determine to
get rid of that odious disguise which Rita had furnished him. He
proceeded, therefore, to divest himself of it.
The Carlists had not noticed him thus far, and had not at all recognized
him. Great was their surprise when they saw this "woman" tearing off her
outer robe; but far greater was it when they saw the marvellous
transformation of a commonplace woman into a resplendent general-officer
all in blue and gold.
A murmur ran through them, partly of amusement, partly of approval.
One of them addressed him.
Russell shook his head.
"He is a French general," said one; "he doesn't understand us. Can't some
one speak French?"
No one could.
One of them then ran inside and brought out a sword, with belt, etc.,
which he handed to the "French general." Russell took it, and after some
trouble succeeded in buckling the martial gear around him. Then, by way of
an additional safeguard against his enemy, he drew his sword, and taking
his seat on a stone near the gate, glared watchfully around.
Dolores and Ashby had much to talk of, but Dolores was too prudent to
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 see, their position had changed little, if at
all, for the better. The enemy would rally. They would be attacked. No
defence was possible. They would soon be prisoners or fugitives. And if
they were to fly, how could they hope to escape in a country swarming with
roving bands of marauders belonging to both parties? The problem was a
difficult one, and one which was not to be solved very readily.
At length Dolores thought of the wounded men, and as she had a very tender
heart, she proposed to go and help them. 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 upper regions. Such coincidences are frequent in real life, and
still more frequent in our "Castles in Spain."
As Brooke and Talbot came out, Ashby and Dolores, advancing toward the
room, met them face to face. Brooke and Dolores looked upon one another.
There was the flash of mutual recognition in the faces of both. Brooke
seemed struck dumb. Dolores was the first to speak.
"Raleigh!" she said, in tones of amazement and consternation.
"Dolores!" said Brooke, in a deep, hollow voice.
Brooke was ghastly; but this may have been the effect of the recent shock.
As for Dolores, every trace of color fled from her face, and she was as
white as marble.
Talbot heard this, and saw it. These words, these familiar names, smote
her to the heart. She recollected the story which Brooke had told her. She
remembered the name of that Cuban maid. It was this--it was "Dolores!" Was
this she?
She 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 descending the stairs had,
on this instant, reached the spot.
Harry saw her again.
The priest's dress was removed. She stood in her own garb--her very
self--Talbot! with all her noble face revealed, and all her exquisite
grace of feature and of form.
"Sydney!" said he.
"Harry!" said Talbot.
Katie heard this. She turned pale. All her thoughts fled from her; she
shrank back, and stood staring. But one thought now remained--the thought
suggested by that name, Sydney. Well she remembered that name, and all the
incidents of that story which Harry had told her when they were first
acquainted--the wreck of the ship--the maiden deserted and despairing--her
rescue by Harry--their escape in the boat--their love--their plighted
faith--the appointed marriage--the lost bride.
Sydney! It was she herself--the promised bride of Harry, whom he would, no
doubt, be required to wed at once.
Now she understood why Harry had been so preoccupied.