Dolores said nothing, but looked at Ashby with mournful inquiry, as though appealing to him to know what she ought to do.
"How did he get here?" 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?"
"I don"t know."
"So she"s a girl," said Ashby; "and so that"s the reason she wouldn"t marry Lopez and Katie. A most infernally pretty girl. Who is she, did you say?"
"I don"t know."
"Didn"t your--your friend tell you?"
"No."
It may be supposed that Ashby should have known Brooke"s feelings toward this "priest" by his devotion to her in saving her life. But it was not so. Brooke"s desperate act in flinging himself before Lopez seemed to Ashby merely an accident consequent upon his struggle with his captors.
Besides, the attack of Dolores and her six Carlists had followed so closely upon this, that all had become confused together.
While Ashby had been asking these few questions, Dolores remained looking at him with that same mournful inquiry. Ashby noticed it, for he looked at her several times, though each time he looked away elsewhere. He was turning over all this in his mind.
At length he looked at her once more, and took her hands in his.
"Dolores," said be, "I have made up my mind."
"What?" said she, in a faint voice, looking up at him in awful suspense.
"I will not give you up! That"s decided. You must dismiss the idea from your mind."
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 nature responded.
"You must come with me," said he. "That fellow may look out for himself."
"But--but--" said Dolores. She paused.
"What?"
"We--we--are--engaged."
"Pooh!" said Ashby. "That"s an old story."
"But--but--"
"Well?" said Ashby, impatiently, as she paused.
"He--he--saved my life once."
"He be hanged!" said Ashby. "I"ll save your life fifty times. You mustn"t think of that man again. Do you hear, Dolores?"
"Yes," said Dolores, meekly; "but I only want to satisfy my conscience, and find out my duty."
"Conscience? Duty? Ah!" repeated Ashby. "Well, then, I"ll tell you what to think of--think of me! Here was I, engaged to that English maiden. You have won my love. You have made me indifferent 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."
Dolores looked up again with her face in a rapture of gladness, and Ashby pressed her hands more closely in his. Then they walked away to inspect the fortifications.
CHAPTER LVI.
IN WHICH THERE IS A TERRIBLE CALAMITY.
Russell"s advent among the embarra.s.sed lovers can easily be explained.
Seated at the gate in the uniform of a general, with gorgeous array of blue and gold, with a sword in his manly hand, and armed warriors around him, his martial soul had gradually lost its terrors, and his mind was at leisure to think of other things.
First among these other things was that precious package which he had concealed. Now was the time for him to look them up and regain possession.
None but friends were now in the castle. Those bonds were now safer in his own possession than anywhere else, and never could he hope for a better chance than this. As for Rita, she must have fled, he thought, with the other fugitives, and with her had fled his worst fear.
With such thoughts as these, the martial Russell sheathed his warlike sword and walked back again toward the castle. Here he entered the hall where the others were talking, and, pa.s.sing through, entered the well-remembered room where he had been confined. He looked all around. He was alone. He walked to the chimney. He looked up. Through the 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 mean time he thought he would go back and hear what they were all talking about.
Coming back again, he saw them all going in different directions, 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 any one whom Katie might choose. To Ashby he felt repugnance on account of former quarrels, but to Harry none whatever. Even to Ashby he would have yielded, for prejudices die out quickly in a Castle of Spain. And so, as we have seen, the good Russell interrupted the happy lovers in a paternal way, and did the "heavy father" to perfection--with outstretched hands, moistened eyes, and "Bless you, bless you, my children!"
The subject of flight was already before them, and this was for Russell the most acceptable possible. He felt that he could give valuable information, since he himself had been a fugitive. Every step of the way was well remembered by him. In a few minutes he had made them acquainted with the story of his former escape, and the adventurous Harry at once decided that this would be the very way by which he could carry off Katie and himself from their embarra.s.sing surroundings. For various reasons he wished to go away in a quiet, un.o.btrusive manner, without ostentation or vain display, and in no other way could he do it so effectually as in this.
Harry at once decided that his best course would be to spend the hours of closing day in making himself acquainted with this pa.s.sage. He did not feel inclined to be altogether dependent upon Russell. Circ.u.mstances might arise which might make it desirable to fly 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 circ.u.mstances 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 difficulty. 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 pa.s.sages, until at length they came to the opening under the arch of the ruined bridge. Here they both 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 capable 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 securing 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.
First of all, he followed Harry to the upper story, where he took an affectionate leave of him. Then he prowled about until he discovered Ashby, who was with Dolores in a remote part of the court-yard. The six Carlists were still at the gate. The other two inmates of the castle, namely, Brooke and Talbot, were in the room in which the recent stormy events had taken place. They had been attending to the wounds of the prisoners, and were still so engaged that they did not look up as Russell entered. He said nothing, but hastily retreated and went into the opposite room--the very one in which he wae to conduct his operations. But he was too cautious to begin just yet; so he waited, and at length had the satisfaction of seeing these two go down-stairs and out of the 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 fireplace. This he picked up, and then, going back to the door, looked all around stealthily and warily. All was still.
Thereupon he returned. His manly heart was throbbing fast--violently, even painfully. The sense of loneliness was oppressive. Had his purpose been less important, he would certainly have turned and fled. But too much was at stake. Before him there arose the vision of that vast treasure--thirty thousand pounds--and its attraction was irresistible. He must go forward; and now was the time to win, or never.
He stood for a moment gathering up his courage.