A Castle in Spain: A Novel

by James De Mille

Lopez followed.

At the sight of these two women Russell and Harry stopped their conversation abruptly. For each one the sight was an overwhelming sensation. To Russell it was as though his last hour had come. Here was his persecutor, his tormentor, who was resolved to marry him whether he would or not. He had confided his griefs to Harry, but had been unable to obtain from him any satisfactory advice. What should he do? He could not say; he could not even think. Could he dare to say "No," when Lopez and Rita and the priest and all the soldiers expected "Yes?" Could he face the awful result of disobedience to Lopez, of defiance to Rita? His whole nature shrank back in terror from the thought, and prompted him, in this dire emergency, of two evils to choose the least.

To Harry, also, the sight of Katie was equally overwhelming. He was struck dumb. He stood rooted to the spot, while wonder, suspicion, and fear all struggled together within him.

What was the meaning of all this? A marriage?—a marriage of this Spanish captain? With whom? Who was the bride? What was Katie doing here? And why was Katie coming here in such a manner, with downcast eyes, death-pale face, and drooping, trembling figure, scarce able to walk, and leaning so heavily upon the arm of this Spanish woman? Such were the questions which Harry, in his bewilderment, asked himself and could not answer. To see Katie thus was like the stroke of a thunder-bolt, and he was dumb with wonder. She came with no word, no smile, no look for him; she came like a helpless victim destined for the sacrifice.

Ashby also saw all of this! He had felt already the extremest bitterness toward Katie, yet the sight of her now was powerful enough to awaken within him the deepest pity. What was the meaning of this? Was Katie the bride? Was she about to marry Lopez? Was this the revenge which Lopez had planned? It was manifestly so; and yet why had Katie consented? He could not understand it. It seemed like a fresh proof of her frivolity and falsity; and at such an exhibition he felt bewildered. She had been false to him for the sake of Rivers; was she also false to Rivers for the sake of Lopez?

And yet, in spite of such thoughts as these, Ashby was full of pity for her. He could not help it. And justly so; for hard indeed must that heart have been which could have remained unmoved at such a sight. Never was a bride seen more despairing. There was agony in her face, and in her attitude, and in her gestures. It was not a bride that he saw; it was a victim. It was an altar of sacrifice upon which Katie was to be offered up—not an altar of love.

And thus Ashby, like Harry, stood overwhelmed at this unexpected sight.

Harry felt an almost irrepressible impulse to spring forward and greet her, but something there was in her look which deterred him. It was her face of despair, her attitude of utter weakness and prostration, her downcast eyes, her averted look. He could not move; he was petrified. There came over him something like a feeling of horror. He shuddered at the sight. All his thoughts and all his soul were fixed on her, while he kept asking himself, What is this? What does it mean? A marriage? And is this the bride—Katie?

Meanwhile Lopez had taken up a position at the upper end of the room, and, looking around with a sarcastic smile, began to make a few remarks:

"Señors," said he, "I have done myself the honor of requesting your company on this occasion, so as to have your presence on the happiest moment of my life, on the joyful moment when I am to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony to one whom I have long loved, and whom I have at last won by rescuing her from a fearful peril. I shall expect your warmest congratulations; but however warm they may be, they cannot be adequate to the occasion that calls them forth."