Chapter 9

THE ESCAPE

At five o'clock in the afternoon Roper rejoined Arthur in the hut.

"Well, what is your report?"

"The house looks all right, sir. There are no bars on the upper windows. There is a sentry sitting down against the wall; as far as I could see, he was asleep. I don't think it will be possible to get the horses up close; but as each man seems to sleep just where it suits him, I think it would be easier for us to make our way through them on foot than to get the horses through. I don't think there will be any difficulty in getting the third horse. Do you think the lady knows how to ride, sir?"

"No; I think it is quite possible that she does not; but if we take another horse I can ride double with her by turns. I would risk a great deal rather than go with only two horses."

"We will get one somehow, sir. When shall I move the horses?"

"You had better take them down to the river just after dusk. Wait with them there for a quarter of an hour, and then walk away with them to some quiet spot--of course, as near as possible to the house. Then lie down beside them; no one is likely to notice what horses they are. Probably Cabrera's horses are behind his house."

"Yes, they are, sir."

"Well then, get them as close to those as you can. You might wait a short distance off till it is time to make a move, then take them as close to his horses as possible. Loosen the foot-ropes of one or two of his horses, so that when the time comes we can easily take one, and perhaps two, of them. We can each lead one; that will give us two changes."

At eight o'clock they went out from the cottage, each leading a horse. Already the number of men in the streets had begun to thin.

"Are you going?" more than one asked Arthur as they passed.

"Yes," he said; "I have tried in vain to induce your chief to spare the life of the lady he took prisoner, and, finding my entreaties of no avail, I am going."

"It is a pity," the man said; "but the general will have his way, and who can blame him?"

They went down to the river, watered the horses, and then Roper took the two bridles and started to walk some distance down the bank, so as to be able to approach the back of the village as if he had been grazing the horses in the fields. Arthur, on his part, went to the priest's.

"I have succeeded, my son. At first he would not do it, but it was evident to him that those with him were shocked at the idea of refusing to let the lady have the last ministrations of the Church. 'Here is the paper', he said when he signed it. 'You may go in to her, father, but I will have no goings in and out. You may enter, but you will remain with her till she is brought out for execution at daybreak.' I said, 'So be it'. Here, my son, are my hat and soutane. May God's blessing light upon your brave effort to rescue her, and may you carry her off to safety! It seems to me a desperate enterprise, but you are young and vigorous, and doubtless accustomed to strife. You had best leave this house when I have gone. The Carlists are for the most part faithful friends of the Church. Several have been here to-day to confess their sins, and more are to come this evening, and it were best that they should not find you here. If they find the house empty, they will suppose that I have gone to the church or on some other mission."

"I thank you for your suggestion, father, and I shall act on it. I fear I shall not be able to restore your things to you; therefore, I pray that you will accept these five pieces of gold in order that you may replace them."

The old man hesitated. "I need no reward for doing my duty," he said.

"Nor should I think of offering it to you, but I know how very poor you village cur�s are, and that it would be perhaps a serious trouble to you to replace these things; and as I am well provided with money it is but just and right that I should enable you to replace the goods you have given me. For your aid I can only give you my heartfelt thanks; and I doubt not that, when all this trouble is over, the Count de Balen will make a handsome offering to you for the use of your poor."

"Here are the hat and soutane, my son. Take them and my blessing. May God enable you to carry out your noble object!"

The priest then put on a biretta, and went out at the back of his house. Arthur rolled up the dress and put the hat under his arm, and also went out behind and sat down against the wall of the house. When he heard the clock strike a quarter to ten, he put on the priest's robe and large three-cornered hat. He took up a lantern which the priest had placed on the table, went through the house, and out at the front door; then, imitating the quiet walk of the priest, he went up the now deserted street and paused before the sentry.

"Benedicite, my son!" he said. "I bear an order, signed by your general, authorizing me to pass the night with this poor child. Here it is;" and he held the paper up to the lantern. The man glanced at it. He could neither read nor write, but he knew Cabrera's signature by sight, having seen it on many proclamations. He knocked at the door.

"Open," he said; "here is one with a permit to enter, signed by the general."

The bolts were drawn, and the door opened. A rough-looking man stood by it, another was sitting at a table; he stood up as the apparent priest entered. The first man shot the top bolt, and as he stooped to fasten the bottom one Arthur drove his dagger to the hilt between his shoulders; and then, turning, sprang upon the other man and seized him by the throat. Taken wholly by surprise, the man could offer no resistance. Arthur flung him back across the table, retaining his grip upon his throat until the man became unconscious; then he thrust a piece of wood he had brought with him between his teeth, and tied it there, securely fastened his hands and legs, and tied these to the legs of the table. He had thought this all out: one man must be killed, the other he had hoped to overcome and silence by surprise. Then he took a candle which was burning upon the table and went up-stairs.

A key was in the door. He turned it and went in. Mercedes was lying upon a bed. She sprang to her feet as he entered. "Hush!" he said, as he removed his hat. "I have come to save you, Donna Mercedes. Hush, I implore you!" for he saw that the girl was on the point of uttering a scream of joy; "your life depends upon your keeping silence."

She dropped back upon the bed and burst into a passion of tears, which he permitted for a few minutes. Presently with a great effort she checked herself. "This is the first tear I have shed since I saw Leon killed."

"He is not killed, Donna Mercedes; he is grievously wounded, but will, I hope, recover."

"Are you sure?" she exclaimed incredulously, rising to her feet and laying her hand on his arm.

"Quite sure; sure, at least, that he was well and sensible when I left him, and was to be carried this morning down to Albacete. He was only anxious about you, and I told him that I would bring you safely back to him. I have got my man with me; by this time he will have slain the sentry beneath your window, and we must be going. Now I will let you down. I will take hold of your hands and lower you as far as I can reach; it will not be more than a foot or two to drop. First, I will blow out this candle; possibly the opening of the window would be noticed were it alight."

He spoke in a quiet, matter-of-fact way so as to steady the girl's nerves, blew out the candle, and opened the window. "Now," he said, "I will let you down." He lifted her through the window, and then, holding her wrists, lowered her as far as he could reach and then let her go, and, swinging himself out, dropped beside her. "We must wait now," he said, "till my man comes to fetch us to the horses. It is as well that your eyes should become accustomed to the darkness before we move."

In three minutes Roper came up.

"It is all right so far, Roper; here is the lady beside me. Now for the horses."

"They are not fifty yards away, sir. You must be careful how you walk, for there are many asleep in the garden. I have noted all their places, and if you keep your hand upon my shoulder I can lead you through."

Placing the girl between himself and his follower, his hands on the latter's shoulders, Arthur moved quietly along. He could vaguely make out a dark figure lying down here and there. It was an intensely anxious time, but all seemed perfectly quiet. They reached the end of the garden, and, going through a hole in the fence, came presently upon four horses. Arthur dropped his hat and soutane, and threw his cloak, which he had brought with him, over his shoulder.

"Shall we mount here or walk?"

"I think we had better walk a bit, sir."

Arthur took the bridles of two of the horses, and, telling the girl to keep close behind him, followed Roper, who led the other two horses. They walked for four or five minutes, then Roper stopped.

"I think we are well beyond them now, sir," he said. "I have been over all this ground five or six times this evening, and I am pretty sure that none of them are beyond us."

Arthur put on his cocked hat, which he had previously carried, as, if they had been noticed, its outline would at once have provoked curiosity. Then he mounted one of the horses, and lifted Mercedes into the saddle in front of him. They went at a walk for some little distance, and then broke into a canter.

"We are safe now, are we not?" Mercedes asked.

"I hope so. The only question is the hour at which they change the guard. My man killed a fellow who was under your window, and of course this must be discovered when they do so; that was the only thing that I could not calculate upon. However, when they discover that we have escaped it will be some time before they mount; and as they won't know which way we have gone, the betting is strongly against our being overtaken. I think, upon the whole, we may consider ourselves pretty safe."

They rode along by the side of the river, crossed it at a ford at Banada, and just as day was breaking arrived at the ruins of the palace. Arthur had twice changed horses, but few words had been spoken on the journey.

"You must not think, Don Arthur," the girl had said once, "that I do not feel grateful because I cannot tell you so; it is because I feel too grateful to express it."

"Do not trouble yourself, se�orita. I know perfectly well how you must be feeling, and it is not at all necessary for you to tell me; you must have gone through a terrible time indeed."

"I thought more of my brother's fate than my own," she said. "It did not seem to me to be so hard to die. It was of Leon, my dear brother, that I thought so much, and grieved for. I could hardly think that that terrible man really meant to kill me, and yet he seemed altogether without pity."

"He was. The good priest, whose dress I wore and whose place I took, had endeavoured in vain to turn him from his determination. I myself saw him, and denounced the crime as being contrary to the Conventions; but he would not hear me, and declared that, come what might, you should be shot the first thing in the morning. And it was only when I found that the case was absolutely hopeless that I determined to set you free at whatever risk. The priest aided me. He obtained from Cabrera an order to spend the night with you, in order to prepare you for death. He passed me the order, and went away himself so as to escape the vengeance of that scoundrel, and I and my man between us managed to get you out."

"But there were two men below, were there not? I heard them talking."

"Yes; I had to kill one of them, and the other I gagged and tied up. I don't suppose he will be any the worse when they find him in the morning. Now we will change horses, and then I hope you will try to sleep. You cannot have closed an eye since you were captured, and we shall have plenty of time to talk later on." The girl did as he told her, and remained quiet in his arms, but he could see that her eyes never closed.

"I wish I could ride," she said once, "so that I might relieve you of my weight."

"Your weight is nothing," he said; "and each time we change horses I put you on the other side, and so rest my arm."

As they drew up at the shed from which he had ridden thirty-six hours before, the women ran out and cried with joy.

Arthur handed the girl down to them.

"Take her inside," he said, "and give her something to eat, and then let her lie down for a bit; she must be desperately tired."

Then he himself got down and shook hands warmly with Roper.

"This has been as good a night's work, Roper, as you are ever likely to do, if you live to be a hundred."

"It has been a good business, sir, and I enjoyed it all except the stabbing of that sentry. It went badly against the grain, but I knew it had to be done, for it was our lives against his."

"I had to do just the same thing; but, as you say, it was a matter of necessity, though I wish heartily that it had been Cabrera himself. However, the thought will not trouble me. If men choose to follow a ruffian like that, they must take the consequences. Those are two good horses you got hold of."

"Yes; that one is Cabrera's own. Fortunately he was standing at the end of the line. I had noted his position before it got dark, and was mightily pleased that I could get at him, for I thought it would rile the scoundrel nicely to lose not only his prisoner but his horse. The other is a good one too."

"Well, give them a good feed all round; and then you must see what we can get to eat ourselves, for we only had a piece of bread all yesterday and not much the day before. We can get some beans anyhow, and, I expect, a chicken, and I will tell the women to boil one down for Donna Mercedes. We may be sure that she has eaten next to nothing since she was taken."

A woman presently came out from the hut and said that the lady had dropped off to sleep, and that one of their number was sitting with her. They set to work at once to carry out Arthur's instructions. Two chickens were killed, dipped into boiling water to take the feathers off, and then cut in two and put over a wood fire. Some beans were baked on a griddle, and another chicken was put into a pot to simmer.

"Boil it down till there is only about a pint of liquor left," was his order; "then strain it, and keep it hot for her till she wakes. Have you heard how the count bore the journey?"

"Yes, sir; some of the men came back in the evening and said that he had slept a good deal on the way."

Five hours later Donna Mercedes awoke, and, having drunk the broth prepared for her, came out.

"Now, if you feel strong enough we will ride on to Albacete at once," Arthur said. "Your brother must be in a terrible state of anxiety about you, and your appearance will do more for him than the doctors can do."

"I am ready," she said brightly. "The sleep and a wash have done wonders for me."

Roper at once put the saddles on the horses.

"No," she said; "I will ride now. I never have ridden, but I am sure that I can do it, and you can fasten a leading rein to my horse."

"It is not easy without a side-saddle, se�ora; but the pommel of this saddle is high, and if we go gently you will be able to hold on."

"At any rate I will try," she said.

The stirrups were arranged the proper length and Donna Mercedes lifted into the saddle.

"I shall manage very well," she said, as she settled herself on it. "I will learn to ride after this. I won't be so helpless in future."

Before mounting, Arthur attached a leading rein to her horse's bit, and they started at a gentle canter, Roper leading the other horse. Three hours' riding brought them to Albacete. They put the horses up in the stable, and then enquired where the count had been taken. It was to the principal hotel, and there Arthur went at once with Donna Mercedes. They went up to the room together, and Arthur opened the door, let the girl pass in, and then closed it behind her and went down-stairs. A quarter of an hour later a servant came down and said that the count wished to see him.

"Ah, my dear Arthur," Leon exclaimed as he entered, "how can I thank you enough, for my sister and myself, for all that you have done for us! She seems restored to me by a miracle."

"It is not much of a miracle, Leon; it required only a little invention and a little pluck, and the affair was managed. I felt that it was very hard if I could not get your sister out of the hands of that scoundrel, and our success can scarcely have afforded you more pleasure than it has Roper and myself."

"It is all very well to say so, but the fact is not changed. You have rescued her from certain death, have carried her off from the centre of four thousand men. My sister tells me that you did it in the disguise of a priest."

"Yes, and the good man gave me every assistance. I have not been ill-paid," he said with a light laugh, "for I have got hold of two very valuable horses. Now you will have to take care of each other. Your sister has been splendidly brave, but she will need rest and quiet for a while; she could not have a better thing to do than to look after you, and it will do you good to be cared for by her. I shall wait here for a couple of days, for the horses have had four long days' work. I suppose you have not seen anyone here yet?"

"No; a good many gentlemen of my acquaintance have left their cards, but the doctor said I was not to see anyone at present. He thinks it will be nearly a month before I can move; and he said this morning that he was afraid I should get into a high state of fever if I agitated myself. However, I have no fear of that now. You have done me more good than all the doctors in Spain could do. Now, Mercedes, you must lift your head up from that pillow and stop crying."

"No one could have been calmer or cooler than your sister was, Leon; and now that it is all over, and she has found that you are doing well, you must not be surprised at her breaking down a little. I can assure you that from the time I entered her room till we rode fairly away she was as quiet and composed as possible; in fact, she did not speak a single word from the moment I lowered her down from the window till we were able to put our horses into a canter. To me it was just like a school adventure. I was always getting into scrapes at school, and master after master refused to keep me--it was for that reason that I enlisted in our Legion--and it really seemed to me the same sort of thing, only with a little spice of danger and the pleasure and satisfaction of doing some good.

"And now, Donna Mercedes, if you will take my advice you will go straight to bed. You will want all your strength to nurse your brother. You have gone through frightful anxiety, and have made a long and very fatiguing journey, and before you install yourself at your brother's bedside you want a long rest. If you do not take it, you will be breaking down badly. You see for yourself that he is doing well, and now that he has got you back again there is no fear of his having a relapse. He himself can have slept but little. Therefore, I trust that you will at once lie down and have a good long rest, and that he will do the same, then this evening you will be able to have a quiet chat for a couple of hours. I shall be quite willing to take my own prescription and lie down till this evening."

"Arthur is right," Leon said. "We have all gone through a painful time, and we shall be more ourselves after a sleep. I don't think I have slept five minutes at a time since we were attacked. At any rate, we must both obey orders. It is one o'clock now, we will meet here again at eight."

Arthur at once went down-stairs. He found Roper in the stables, he having just fed the horses.

"Now, Roper, you had better turn in at once; I have arranged for a room for you. I shall not want anything more to-day. You had better settle with one of the stablemen here to feed and water the horses this evening."

"I will come down again, sir, later."

"Well, you can do it if you wake, Roper; but I expect that when you once shut your eyes you won't open them again till to-morrow morning. At any rate, you can arrange that the horses shall be attended to if you should not come down. I feel very uncertain myself about waking."

Arthur gave orders that he should be roused at eight o'clock, and in a very few minutes was fast asleep. He could hardly believe that he had been six hours asleep when there was a knock at his door. However, he jumped out of bed, washed as well as he was able with the very scanty supply of water deemed sufficient for his ablutions, and then went down to Leon's room.

"You look better, Leon," he said as he entered.

"I feel better. Indeed, I have slept like a dormouse, and did not wake till the servant came in a few minutes ago. The doctor said that I was quite a different man from what I was this morning."

"I feel ever so much better too, and should feel better still if I could have had a bath. I hope your sister won't wake; she would be all the fresher for a complete night's rest."

"She told me she slept a good deal on the ride."

"Yes; I think she dozed. No wonder! She must have had a terrible time of it, poor girl! It was a fearful position for her, and I quite expected that when I got to her I should have found her completely prostrated."

"I expect she will get up. I know she wants to hear how you have managed it all. She has told me that she had not asked you anything. You appeared suddenly, dressed as a priest, and after you had got away she had felt so happy in being safe, and yet so bewildered at it all, that she had scarcely spoken at all, and I can quite understand her feelings."

"So can I, perfectly, and on our ride to this place I could see that she was thinking of nothing but meeting you. I don't think she credited my assurance that you were not mortally wounded, and was yearning for a sight of you. Ah, here she is!"

"You are looking better, Leon," she said, as she came up to the bedside.

"I am feeling a hundred per cent better. The doctor says that I am quite a different man, and that whereas when he saw me this morning he did not feel at all sure that I should get over it, he has no fears whatever about me now. So you see, Arthur, you have saved both our lives."

"Well, don't let us say anything more about it, Leon. The affair has turned out all right, and there is no more to be said on the matter."

Leon smiled. "That is all very well for you, but it is not quite so satisfactory to us. Now, you must tell us all about it. For the present I only know that you got a priest to help in some way, and I want the full particulars."

"Well, I will tell you the whole story."

And he gave a full account of the events from the moment of his arrival in the village. "I would have given a good deal," he said, after describing the scene with Cabrera, "to have got the scoundrel in a quiet place by myself, though I am bound to say I doubt whether I should have been found the better man. The fellow, to do him justice, is uncommonly vigorous and powerful, and I might have discovered that I had caught a Tartar; but I was so furious with him that I would willingly have taken my chance. Of course I can make every allowance for a man whose mother has been murdered in this war, and I can understand his showing no mercy to men of the other party who may fall into his hands; but to take revenge upon women, who had nothing whatever to do with the wrong he has suffered, is monstrous. He should know by his own feelings what their friends would suffer. However, as he was not to be moved I felt that I must depend upon myself, and I decided that the only way to get at the se�ora would be by the assistance of the priest, or at any rate that that was the first plan to attempt."

He then related his interview with the priest, and the manner in which the latter had at once agreed to aid him, the various steps he had taken to ascertain the position of the Carlists lying about the village, and to secure a spare horse, and how he had carried out his plans.

"I was sorry," he said, "to have to kill one of the men in the hut, but I could see no other way of disposing of both of them before an alarm could be given. Of course if I had not been able to obtain the priest's disguise I should have had to kill the sentry at the door too, but even then the men inside might not have opened the door to my summons, probably they would not have done so. Still, I own that it went desperately against the grain to have to stab that man; that was really the only unpleasant part of the business. All the rest was simple, and Donna Mercedes was very brave and very quiet. Roper had obtained an accurate idea of where the Carlists were all lying, so that there was not a single hitch in the affair. If it hadn't been for your sister I should have almost preferred a chase and some excitement, but as it was, I was, of course, very thankful that everything went so perfectly."

"I will take care," Leon said, "that the priest is made comfortable for life. I can, at any rate, show my gratitude in that quarter, though I must always remain in debt to you. What are you going to do next?"

"I am going to stop here for a couple of days, and if I can get a good price for two of the horses I shall sell them. I shall keep that one of Cabrera's. It is a splendid animal; and I think, of the others, the best is the one that belonged to Major Hawkins. The other two are both good animals, and worth, I should say, from thirty to forty pounds apiece."

"I will give you that for them gladly. Of course, Cabrera's people carried off all mine, and I must have two for riding back to Madrid, so I shall be really glad to take your two off your hands."

"Very well," Arthur said; "I certainly did not want to saddle you with them, but as you say you really want them I would rather sell them to you than to anyone else."

"Then that is settled. I shall get Mercedes to write to-morrow for two of my servants to come here; the men who accompanied us were both killed. Besides, I must get Donna Martha, her duenna, and her maid to join us, to keep her company. It would not be seemly for her to be here alone while I am laid up."

Arthur laughed.

"By the way, Mercedes, you will have to write to Don Silvio, telling him what you have gone through."

The girl looked earnestly at her brother, but made no answer, and he turned again to Arthur.

"But you did not say what you were going to do?"

"I hardly know. My instructions were to go to Mercia and see the governor there, and to endeavour to impress upon him the importance of observing the Conventions strictly. I was not altogether successful. He repeated his desire to do so, but pointed out to me that Cabrera so persistently refused to observe them in any way, and committed such atrocities, that the people were roused beyond control. However much, therefore, he might wish to carry on the war humanely, public opinion was too strong for him, and the friends of the people murdered by Cabrera naturally clamoured for reprisals. It was my intention, when I arrived, to proceed to Cabrera's camp and endeavour to persuade him to carry on the war less ruthlessly. Well, I have been to him, and see that remonstrances are not of the slightest avail. I shall now go to Madrid and request the minister of war to send a formal despatch to him calling upon him to conduct the war more humanely, and saying that unless he does so, all his followers who fall into the hands of the royal troops must be put to the sword, however painful it would be to him to give orders to that effect. I don't suppose such a communication would influence him in any way, but it might influence his followers, who can scarcely like to fight with, as it were, halters round their necks. It is extraordinary to me that people of one nation should fight so ferociously, and should refuse quarter to each other. Against a foreign invader one can imagine such a spirit, as, for example, when you were invaded by the French; but that people of one blood should, on a mere difference of opinion as to who should be king, hate each other so venomously beats me altogether."

"I cannot give any reason for it," Leon said. "I am in favour of Christina, and should not mind doing a little fighting, though, as I am not a soldier I don't feel called upon to take up arms. Still, it seems to me that the matter might be as well settled by everyone giving a vote one way or the other, and the minority then yielding gracefully."

They chatted for some time, the conversation being principally kept up by Arthur. Mercedes scarcely opened her lips, but sat by her brother's side holding his hand. At ten o'clock his nurse came in and said that he must now be quiet for the night, and the others again went off to their rooms. After breakfasting by himself, Arthur went down to the stables.

"I have sold those two horses to Count Leon."

"Yes, so he has been telling me."

"Oh, you have seen him, have you?"

"Yes, sir; he sent down for me half an hour ago. He looks a deal better than when we left him three days back."

"Yes; he will do now. He has lost a lot of blood, and it will be some time before he gains strength again; but the doctor said yesterday that he had no fears whatever as to his getting through."

"Well, he has quite taken away my breath this morning."

"Has he? In what way?"

"Well, sir, he has told me that when he gets to Madrid he will make me a present of five hundred pounds."

"I am glad indeed to hear it, Roper. You have done him an enormous service at a good deal of risk. I have always understood that he is a wealthy young noble, and I have no doubt he can very well afford to do it."

"I told him, sir, that really I had nothing to do with it, and that I had simply done what you had ordered me, never having seen the young lady myself. But he would not allow that that made any difference. I had assisted in saving his sister's life, and he was very pleased to be able to make such an acknowledgment of my services. I should not mind how many ladies' lives I saved on such terms."

"Well, I am heartily glad, Roper. It always has been a source of annoyance to me that I was not able to do more for you when we have been such friends together."

"That is all right, sir. We were friends together for a time, but I was in my right position and you were not. That, of course, was soon put right, and we have stood ever since in the proper relation towards each other. I am only too glad to work for you, and now you have put me in for a very good thing. If I were to go home now, everyone would say that I had done mightily well for myself, and I should go in for farming again; I made a mistake in leaving it.

"Well, when we get home, Roper, I will see that you have the first farm that is vacant on my estate."

"Why, I did not know that you had an estate!" Roper said in surprise.

"Yes, I have an estate, and, I believe, a pretty good one; but I am not to come into it till I am five-and-twenty. I think my father saw that I was a harum-scarum sort of chap, so he settled it in that way. But though I am not to come in for it till I am twenty-five, I have an uncle who manages it for me, and I can certainly persuade him to give you the first farm that is vacant. I had intended to do so before, but I thought there might be some difficulty about it, because you would require capital to work it, but this five hundred pounds would give you a fair start on a small farm."

"That would be splendid, sir! That will give me something to look forward to. As long as you stay out here I shall stay with you, if it were for another ten years; but it makes all the difference having something to look forward to afterwards, for I have wondered sometimes what on earth I should do when I went back again, I should feel so strange. I have thought, too, sometimes, about you, and what you would do when this affair had come to an end. Well, I am as glad to know that you will be all right as I am about myself."

Arthur went upstairs. As he entered the room Mercedes got up from her brother's bedside and went out.

"I am a little upset, Arthur," Leon said.

"Are you? What is the matter? you are not feeling worse, I hope?"

"No; it is nothing about myself, it is about Mercedes. You know that three months ago she was betrothed--not formally, you know, but the matter was arranged--to Count Silvio de Mora. It was a suitable match in all respects. He was some fourteen years older than Mercedes, and a worthy cavalier. Of course he asked her hand of me, and I gave my consent, and she offered no more objection than a well-brought-up maiden should do. Now she turns round and tells me that she has resolved not to marry; that after being so near to death and saved as by a miracle, she is resolved to live single. She does not wish to enter a convent or anything of that sort, but at any rate to live single for some years--in fact until I marry, and then she will probably go into a religious house.

"Well, it all seems so unnatural, because she has always had very high spirits and been fond of gaiety. I have asked her to think the matter over, but she declares that nothing can influence her, and implores me to let her have her own way. I can understand her feelings. Of course she is greatly shaken by what she has gone through; I hope though in time she will recover her spirits. But she has declared that nothing will move her; and after such a terrible experience as she has had, I feel that at present, at any rate, I must let her have her own way. I cannot hold a pen yet, and I shall be greatly obliged if you will write in my name to the count. The thought of this engagement evidently preys upon her mind. She says she did not sleep all night, and I see that she will have no peace until I carry out her wishes."

"Of course I will do as you wish, Leon, and will write from your dictation. It seems to me natural, poor girl, that she should be terribly shaken by what she has gone through."