treasure was here. It's a cinch that we interrupted, and it's still in
its little safe-deposit vault. It's a greater cinch that if we go out
he'll come back. I want to have you stand up there where the other
battleship was, and watch. You'll be as safe as a church in this. No
one would think of looking for one of us in this armor--so when he
starts to work, whoever he is, you just yell and yell your best."
"Gawd, Marse Warren, I could yell loud 'nuff for 'em to hear me back in
Kaintucky."
"You give me your best yell, and I'll nail him."
"Ef you don't nail him, he'll nail me."
"Keep cool--that's all."
"I'm cool now--I'm ketchin' cold." And he sneezed.
"If you sneeze again, I'm going to use a gun on you. Here, give me one
of those two guns you have. And whatever you do, don't sneeze. I'm
catching cold myself here--anyone would in this musty old hole."
He pocketed the weapon and ordered Rusty to his place.
There came another sound--a repetition of the earlier faint sound. He
turned quickly, and Princess Maria Theresa of Aragon rushed into the
room, followed by Dolores.
"Thank God you are safe, Mr. Warren! I heard the shooting, down in the
other court of the castle."
"Where have you been? Why didn't you wait for my signal? The hour is
not over yet."
"We've been wandering through this dreadful place an eternity--trying
to find you, calling everywhere, so that we could reach you before it
was too late--before something happened that had always happened
before!"
Dolores had seated herself at the side table, and her face was buried
in her hands. She was sobbing.
"Too late? What do you mean? This is madness for you to take this
risk."
The girl, forgetting royalty and convention, caught his hand in both of
hers, and a light of joy came into her eyes.
"My brother is safe, thank God! He is on his way to the King to get
soldiers to search the castle."
"Where has he been? How do you know?"
"He was imprisoned in this castle--since the day he entered. To-night
he tried to signal, but could not. Your bullet went straight home, Mr.
Warren, and Robledo is dying. He has confessed all to the holy father.
I must go back, for I promised to be with him at the end."
"The end ..." and Jarvis' voice grew husky, he understood by now the
tears of Dolores. He turned toward her gently. "I'm so sorry--you and
he--I might have--oh, what a terrible shame!"
The girl crossed herself, with the stoic calmness of her religion, as
she rose to face him.
"It is better so. He sinned--grievously, many times, senor. My Prince
is safe ... my Princess is safe. And you are safe--you, the bravest man
in Seguro."
Maria Theresa turned toward the door, where stood a man whom Jarvis had
not espied before. "Take her back to the inn, Maximo, as quietly as
possible. Then send the chauffeur for me again as soon as he can come
up the rough road."
"But, your Highness, you must go back as well--it is dangerous for you
to remain here. I have found the clews for which you went to America.
Let me finish the job."
"No, I will stay with you."
He caught her hands, and looked down into the dark eyes, so wondrously
upturned to his.
"You must come by the fire, and get warm.... Here, sit in this chair.
You have been frightened to death, prowling through this horrid
place.... Your hands are icy.... There, there! Go on and cry--forget
that you're a Princess and be a real girl. Cry all you want! That's
fine!"
He took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders as she sat by
the flaming remnants of the old table.
He turned about and beckoned to Rusty, who with a revolver in hand, his
courage restored in a way by the turn of events, disappeared from view.
Jarvis gently placed a hand upon the heaving shoulder.
"I'll round up this spook to-night for good and all. Then the vassal's
task is done. His fate is in your hands, Highness; what's to become of
him?... Don't send me away. I loved you from the first--not like a
vassal either--and will always love you.
"I know I'm just a plain American citizen ... and a _man_. All the man
in me cries out, 'I love you!' Don't send me away."
"You must go. You must leave Spain, for your life would never be safe
here: you know what feuds are, and you have started one."
Just then an audible, unmistakable, common-place sneeze interrupted
this most wonderful of all conversations.
Jarvis looked about. The sneeze was in the room.
"Rusty, are you outside?"
"Yassir. But don't keep me here long, 'kase I'ze freezing to death."
"Did you sneeze?"
"No, sir; but I calc'late I'll have to befoh long."
"Don't move, your Highness--I've found the Ghost at last!"
He walked toward the suspicious picture, and pointed the revolver at
it.
"There is somebody in that picture. Come out or I'll shoot. Quick now!"
There was no response.
He sent a bullet, carefully aimed at the upper lefthand corner, where
he planned that it would do no harm.
There was a response.
"Don't shoot!"
[Illustration: "_Don't shoot!_"]
And the canvas opened neatly, to permit the elegant but dusty figure of
Carlos Hernando, Duke of Alva, to step to the mantelpiece and leap
clumsily to the floor.
The Princess had sprung to her feet.
"Your Excellency, you are a long way from Madrid!"
The Duke, brushing off his sleeves, snarled back: "You fool, you've
stepped right into the trap. I knew you were after the treasure."
"Oh, no, your man-at-arms did that, and if you try to lie yourself out
of this ... if it weren't for your cousin, I'd blow your damned head
off! Then I'd throw you down after the other poor devil--you've got a
lot of souls to answer for. See here, give me that locket--no, give her
that locket, or by the living God, I'll break your ... Come on now!"
"Carlos!" and the girl held out a stiff arm. The Duke fumbled in an
inner pocket, and dropped the memorandum into her hand.
"I told you all ghosts were cowards."
The Duke looked insolently into Jarvis' face, yet there was an
undisguised admiration for the stanch nerves of his opponent. At heart,
despite his criminal, conceited weaknesses, the Duke had thoroughbred
blood beating and pulsing through the veins.
"You play a good game, Mr. Warren.... Are all Americans like you?"
"They all play the game in Kentucky," snapped Jarvis.
"And I thought all Americans were fools." He crossed to the door. "I
think, my dear Maria, that for the sake of the family name it would do
my health good to take a trip to Monte Carlo and the Riviera--even
Egypt might help. Mr. Warren, take her advice and return to Kentucky."
He walked up the steps and smiled back with his cynical appreciation of
the situation, a mediaeval sport to the end, as Jarvis realized.
"Hey, Rusty, you just follow that Duke as well as you did me. See him
out of the castle and on his way rejoicing. And don't let your finger
slip on that revolver."
"Yassir--wid pleasure, sir."
The footsteps died away, and Jarvis looked at the Princess.
She smiled back at him.
"What kind of a place is Kentucky?"
"God's country, lady.... Must I go back alone, your Highness?"
She put her hands upon the tired shoulders, and looked up with the
ineffable look which passeth all understanding, except between the one
man and the one woman. She held her lips up to him!
"Warren--don't call me Highness!... my name is Maria!"
THE END