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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 n.o.ble 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 amus.e.m.e.nt, 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.