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 commissariat
was placed before them. The table was laid, the banquet was spread, and
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--The Cure of Santa Cruz!
He was a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man, with strongly marked features,
eagle 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
passports and credentials with which his wallet was stuffed and with which
his pockets bristled, he had not been recognized 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 contrary, he was the simple gentleman among
other gentlemen--_primus inter pares_--the hospitable host, chiefly intent
upon performing the pleasing duties of that 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 more confiding disposition than the others, and after the ladies had
retired he 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 railway station, from which you can proceed
to your respective destinations. But before you go allow me to offer you a
suggestion which I am sure you will not take amiss.
"You, gentlemen, are looking forward 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 should free these ladies from this
embarrassment by persuading them to accept you now as their legal
protectors. Surely nothing can be more desirable on all sides. No place
can be more fitting 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 himself, assisted by the
Patriarch of Constantinople and the Archbishop 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 fervor.
"Hurrah, old fellow!" cried Harry.
"Glorious! isn't it, old boy?" 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 fashion now:
"I never knew real happiness
Till I became a Methodess;
So come, my love, and jine with me,
For here's a parson 'll marry we.
Come for'ad and jine,
Come for'ad and jine,
This night come for'ad and jine.
A-A-A-A-A-men!"
During the banquet and the subsequent proceedings the virtuous Russell had
been silent and distrait. Though restored to the arms of the best of
wives, still he was not happy. There was yet something wanting. And what
was that? Need I say that it was the lost package with the precious bonds?
Ah no, for every one will surely divine the feelings and thoughts of this
sorrowful man.
And he in his abstraction had been trying to think what could be done; for
the bonds were lost to him: they were not in the place where he had
concealed them. What that place really was he now knew only too well. Had
that fiend Rita found them? Perhaps so--yet perhaps not. On the whole, as
a last resort, he concluded that it would be best to appeal to Don Carlos.
His face indicated goodness, and his whole treatment of the party invited
confidence; 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 amusement 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 does he say?" he asked.
Harry came forward to act as interpreter.
Russell now told all. Harry knew in part the fortunes of the bonds after
they had left Russell'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?" 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 the _Deus ex
machina_ for all Spain, and interpose at last to produce universal peace
and harmony here."
"Senor," 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 Don Carlos seemed to him not one whit better than the
other. The bonds were now lost to him forever. That was plain enough. Yet
he dared not say a word. After all, they were 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 wanting 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 applause, 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, suffice 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 suspicions. These he communicated to Harry before the
"evening session" began. It seemed that the much afflicted Russell,
believing the true Don Carlos to be no better than the false one, held the
firm conviction that the bonds had been appropriated by him for his own
purposes, and that their proceeds would be squandered on the extravagant
schemes of the hopeless Carlist insurrection. But Harry scouted the idea.
"Keep them? He keep them?" he cried. "Never! Don Carlos is a gentleman."
At this Russell groaned and turned away.
Meanwhile the preparations for the coming event were diligently carried
on. Before morning the ancient chapel of the hoary castle was decked out
with evergreens brought from the neighboring forest, and everything was
made ready for the marriage-feast.
Morning came. All gathered in the chapel, which in its robe of evergreens
looked like a bower.
The three buglers and one drummer belonging to the troop played in
magnificent strains the stirring notes of the "Wedding March."
The Cure of Santa Cruz presented an unexceptionable appearance in his
ecclesiastical robes.
There, too, was the man who claimed to be the rightful King of Spain,
surrounded by men who represented some of the noblest families of the
nation--an illustrious company, the like of which 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, slightly 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 bride'smaids. But Mrs. Russell was present, leaning on the
arm of her beloved husband, all in tears. And why? 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 court 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."
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 wagon. Another wagon 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 length the Castle, with its hoary walls, its
lofty towers, its weather-beaten turrets and battlements, was lost in the
distance.
THE END.