Talbot looked down. She could not look in his face. She felt unworthy of him. He seemed faithful still. She had seen the act of his in attacking Lopez, but had not understood it. She thought him faithful, in spite of all.
"Bitter!" said she, slowly. "Bitter! yes, bitter indeed--bitter was the fortune that brought me here!"
She could say no more. She was thinking only of that bitter fortune which had brought her to a place where she might be forever torn from Brooke; where Brooke, too, had found one who might tear him from her.
But Harry understood this differently. He detected in these words a reflection upon himself. He thought she alluded to her long journey to him--when she had come so far, and had reached her destination only to find him absent; when she had waited for days without finding any trace of him or hearing any word from him, and at last had turned about on her lonely, homeward road. And yet he was blameless then. As far as that was concerned, he could excuse himself; he could explain all. He felt so guilty in some things, that he was anxious to show his innocence in other things where he had not been to blame; and so he hastened most eagerly to give a long and an eloquent vindication of himself, by explaining all about his journey to England, and his return to Barcelona, and his search after her which had led him to this.
And in all this Talbot found only proofs of Harry"s unalterable fidelity.
e had been true! She had been false! What now was there for her to do? To sacrifice this man? What? after such love and loyalty? Or, on the other hand, to give up Brooke! Brooke!--give up Brooke! Oh heavens! How was that possible? Would she not rather die than give up Brooke? When her own words to him were fresh in her memory, and when his words of love to her were still ringing in her ears--at such a moment as this could she think of giving up Brooke?
Such were the thoughts and feelings of these two.
Meanwhile Ashby, finding himself left alone by Dolores, stood for a while wondering who her friend might be; until at length, finding that she was beginning to give him a detailed history of her life, he looked around in despair. And he saw Katie standing alone, where she had been left by Harry, near the foot of the stairway; and as all the others were engaged in their own affairs, and, moreover, as his relations with Katie were of the most intimate kind, he saw no other course open to him than to approach her and converse with her. And at that moment he remembered that Katie had in her possession--perhaps in her pocket--a--certain letter which he had written to her only a few days before, full of protestations of love; in which he informed her that he was going to travel with her in the same train, in the hope of seeing her at Burgos or Bayonne; in which he urged her to come to him, to be his wife; to set at defiance her hostile guardian, and to unite herself with him. This seemed strange to him now, when his mind was filled with thoughts of Dolores, and his heart was full of the love of Dolores. Even his resentment against her had pa.s.sed away. She had allowed herself to indulge in a flirtation with his friend Rivers. Was that a crime? He, on the other hand, had lost all love for her, and had given all his heart to Dolores. Katie seemed to him now not repugnant as a false one, but merely pitiable as a weak, child-like character. The falsity now seemed rather on his part than on hers. He believed that Harry had gone much farther in treachery than Katie. Katie, he thought, was merely a weak-minded flirt; while Harry had become a traitor in allowing himself to fall in love with her. Even for Harry he could now make some allowances; and since he had found out his own feelings, he had less jealousy, and therefore less resentment against his former friend. As for jealousy, if he now had that feeling, it was all directed elsewhere--namely, toward that stranger whose sudden appearance had so engrossed Dolores.
In such a state of mind as this Ashby advanced toward Katie. Now Katie had come down with the express purpose of seeing him, and with her mind full of a very pretty speech which she intended to make to him. But the sudden meeting of Harry with Talbot had raised other thoughts and feelings, which had driven her pretty speech altogether out of her mind. A bitter jealousy afflicted her tender heart. This lady was the Sydney Talbot of whom he had told her, and who had come all the way from England on this perilous journey to marry him. Would she now give him up? Impossible! And how could Harry escape her?
As Ashby approached, Katie therefore had but little thought for him. Ashby also thought less of her than of Dolores. Who was this stranger? he thought. Why was he so familiar? Why did Dolores leave him so abruptly?
and why was she telling to this stranger the whole story of her life?
Thus Ashby and Katie met again.
Ashby had to say something, and so, as was natural, he took refuge in conventionalities.
"I hope," said he, "that no ill effects have arisen from this recent excitement."
"Oh no," said Katie, in an abstracted tone. She was trying to listen to Talbot"s words. They did not sound pleasant.
Ashby also was trying to listen to Dolores. She seemed to him to be altogether too familiar.
"I"m very glad," said Ashby. "I was afraid that this excitement might have an injurious effect."
(Dolores was still giving an account of herself. It was unworthy of her!)
"Oh no," said Katie, "not at all."
She heard Harry speak in an apologetic manner. It was very hard to bear.
Would he leave her for this lady?
There was now a pause.
Ashby and Katie were both listening with all their might to hear what was said by Dolores and by Harry respectively.
Ashby felt the necessity of saying something.
"Very fine weather," said he.
"Oh, very fine," said Katie.
"A fine moon."
"Oh, very fine."
At this mention of the moon, each thought of those moonbeams which had streamed in through the narrow windows on those past few nights--nights so memorable to each; and each thought of them with the same feelings.
Ashby tried to find something new to say. He thought of the position in which they all were--its danger--their liability to recapture--the necessity of flight, and yet the difficulty of doing so--things which he and Dolores had just been considering.
"This," said he, "is a very embarra.s.sing position."
Katie by this understood him to mean the relations which they bore to one another, and which had become somewhat confused by her affair with Harry.
She thought this was Ashby"s way of putting it.
She sighed. She looked at Harry and Talbot. They seemed coming to an understanding. Harry was certainly making an explanation which seemed unnecessarily long. And here was Ashby hinting at an explanation with herself. She had forgotten all her fine speech with which she had come down. She knew not what to say. She only felt a jealous fear about Harry, and another fear about an explanation with Ashby.
Ashby meanwhile thought nothing about Katie, but was full of eagerness to learn what was going on between Dolores and Brooke.
And thus it was certainly an embarra.s.sing situation.
There were three couples involved in this embarra.s.sing situation, and among them all it is difficult to say which was most embarra.s.sed. It was bad enough to meet with the old lover, but it was worse to feel that the eye of the new lover was upon them. Moreover, each new lover felt jealous of the old one; and the mind of each had thus to be distracted between two discordant anxieties. In short, it was, as Ashby had well said, a most embarra.s.sing situation.
Suddenly, in the midst of all this, a figure entered the hall which attracted all eyes. It was a figure of commanding importance; a man rather elderly, in the uniform of a general-officer--all ablaze with gold. There was a universal shock at such an apparition. The first thought of every one was that the castle had been captured by some new enemy--that this was the leader, and that they all were prisoners.
But one by one, to Ashby, Harry, Brooke; to Katie, Talbot, and Dolores--came the recognition of the fact that under this magnificent exterior lay concealed the person of their companion and friend, the venerable and the virtuous Russell.
"I want to look after something," said he; and with these words he went into the room where he had first been confined--namely, the one opposite to that in which the recent ceremony had taken place.
CHAPTER LV.
HOW HARRY AND KATIE DISCUSS THE SITUATION, AND ASHBY TELLS DOLORES HER DUTY.
The sudden appearance of Russell broke the spell which had rested upon all.
Talbot was the first to make a movement.
"Excuse me for a few moments," said she. "There are some wounded men inside who are in my care. I came out to get some water for them. I must make haste."
Saying these words, she left Harry, and went to a corner of the apartment where there was a jar of water. Filling a vessel from this, she returned to the wounded.
Harry did not follow her.
Upon seeing this movement of Talbot, Katie withdrew from Ashby. Ashby did not seem to notice this, for he was still watching Dolores.
Dolores now remarked to Brooke that she was just at that time engaged in looking after the defences of the castle, for there was serious danger of an immediate attack by the enemy.
At this Brooke said nothing, but merely bowed, and followed Talbot to help her with the wounded men.