Chapter XIII: Part 13

Till the end of a fortnight he remained patient, spending most of his time in reading; but when he finally determined that the letter had gone astray, he threw aside his books and decided that he must rely upon himself. It was evident that if he was to escape at all, it must be through the wall under the window. He had read of escapes by prisoners, and some of these had been performed in circumstances at least as difficult as those that confronted him, and with means no better than the knife he had in his possession. Much must, of course, depend upon the thickness of the wall and the materials of which it was built. He could see by the window that it must be at least two feet thick, and if constructed of solid blocks of stone there would be no possibility of getting them out, as his knife was but some six inches long in the blade, so that it would be necessary to wear the wall away into dust. Of course, if there were no other way, this is what he must attempt.

But for the precaution that had been taken to prevent his escape, this would not have been possible, for the monks, when they came in, could not have failed to notice the gradual crumbling away of the wall. There was, however, one other chance. As this was a subterranean, or almost subterranean room, there was not likely to be a vault under it; therefore it was probable that the wall was not continued far under the bottom of his cell. It might be one foot, it might be two, but the solid stonework would not go much deeper; it would rest upon a bed of concrete, or possibly of loose rubble. Once through that, he would probably find nothing but earth between him and the pavement above. These pavements were in most of the side streets mere cobble stones. He therefore set to work now to examine the stones forming the floor. They were about two feet square, and after some consideration he determined that the best to operate upon would be that at the foot of his bed, as this would be hidden from the sight of anyone looking through the trap. His greatest difficulty would be to get rid of the materials that must necessarily be removed. Stones he might manage to clear out by throwing them through the window with sufficient force to carry them across the street; earth, he finally concluded, he would have to dispose of in the same way.

In order to do this, however, he would have to reach the window. Of course, if he were certain that the cell would never be entered, he could pile it up against the wall to the right and left of the door, for the hole was too narrow to admit a head. However, this was a risk that he would not like to run. The excavation would occupy many weeks, possibly many months, and it was hardly likely that so long a time would elapse before a visit was made to his cell. After much thinking he concluded that if he took up two of the slabs, and placed one against the wall and the other upon it, he could just reach the window. Then, by fastening the end of a blanket to one of the bars, he could easily pull himself up by it and throw the mould outside.

This was certain to be slow work, and a few handfuls of soil scattered on the road would not be likely to attract any attention. Examining the floor carefully, he saw that the slabs of stone were by no means even, from which he concluded that they were not laid in cement, probably not even in concrete, but that the ground had been simply smoothed down and the flags laid on it, and perhaps hammered down. The cells had probably not been intended as living rooms, but were used as prisons, perhaps as far back as the days of the Inquisition.

Having once made up his mind and carefully examined the stones, Arthur lay down on the floor and prepared to act. He had just finished his breakfast and handed out the tray as usual, so he would not be disturbed again for at least four hours. He began with his knife to loosen the stone at the foot of his bed, which was on the left-hand side of the cell, and found to his satisfaction that the slabs were laid close together, but not so closely that the knife would not in most places go down between them.

The crevices were filled up with the dust of many years, and it took him till dinner-time to clear this out. He was gratified at finding, however, that while in some places his knife encountered stones when he thrust it deep, at other points he could push it down to the hilt without encountering any obstacle. This showed him that his conjecture was correct. The ground had simply been smoothed down, chips of stone from the building thrown upon it and mixed with the sand, and on this the paving had been laid down. Beyond the fact that his knife went lower than the bottom of the stone, he could not tell how thick the floor was, but he judged that it would probably be three or four inches. It was evident that he could not get this up by the mere leverage of the knife, and he would only break the tool if he attempted it.

This he had expected would be the case, and after the dinner interval he began what he knew would be one of the most tedious parts of the undertaking. It was necessary that he should scrape away part of the stone in order to get his fingers under. His pocket-knife was evidently a better tool for this than the dinner knife he had hitherto used. The slab, so far as he could make out, was a sandstone, but how hard he could not tell. He began by dipping his handkerchief into his basin and letting fall a few drops at the place upon which he intended to operate, namely, next his bed. He started very carefully, giving a sort of rotatory motion to his knife. Gradually the water he had dropped there became a little turbid; this afforded him some encouragement, and he worked steadily on till evening, by which time he had succeeded in removing a piece of the stone an eighth of an inch deep.

After supper he began again, and continued the work far into the night, for he was always furnished with a lamp. At last he had increased the hole to a depth of fully a quarter of an inch, and a width equal to that of his four fingers. Well satisfied with this result, he threw himself on his pallet and slept soundly until the flap was opened and his breakfast tray thrust in. As soon as he had finished his breakfast he set to work again, this time using the knife that had been handed in with his breakfast, and which would not be demanded of him until he returned the tray when he received his dinner. He was glad to make the change, for his hands were blistered badly by the previous day's work, and the smoothness of the dinner knife was a relief to him; besides, he saw that he had already worn away the point of his pocket-knife.

After a fortnight's steady work he had the satisfaction of feeling the knife go through. In two more days he was able to get his hand in. He now cleared out some of the earth at the bottom, and then, putting his hand below the stone, exerted his strength to the utmost, and was delighted to find that it yielded. He laid it down and executed a dance of triumph, which would have astonished the monks had they looked in.

*CHAPTER XVIII*

*ESCAPED*

It was evening when Arthur got up the stone, so he put it into its place again after his delight had a little subsided, rubbed some dust into the crevices, and then flung himself down for a long night's sleep. The next morning after breakfast he set to work to remove the dust round the next stone. When he had done this, he made a hole under it with his fingers even more easily than in the case of the first. He then replaced it, and waited until his dinner had been handed in. Having eaten this, he took up the two stones again, laid one upright against the wall under the window, placed the other on the top of it, then took a running jump on to this, at the same moment stretching his arm as high up above his head as he could. To his delight he found that he was able to grasp one of the bars. He got down, took one of the blankets, and, again leaping up, passed an end round the bar and managed to grasp it before he fell backwards.

This pulled the blanket half-way round the bar. He caught hold of both parts when he next sprang up, and was able without difficulty to raise himself until his face was level with the window. The look-out was better than he had expected. In front of him was a street, but on the other side was a piece of waste ground. Nothing could have been handier for his purpose, as the stones and earth thrown on to this would certainly attract no notice. Having taken a good look he lowered himself to the floor, relaid the second stone he had raised, and put the other alongside it so that he could replace it in an instant if he should hear footsteps coming down the passage. Then he took the mattress and bedding off the bench, for he resolved to spread upon the bed all the earth and rubble he got out during the day, as it would be dangerous to throw it out until dark.

After this he set to work with the dinner knife, and it was not long before he had loosened the earth and rubble some inches deep. This he removed, and by night had excavated a hole two feet deep, spreading the rubbish carefully, as he got it out, on the bed. He had not made the hole quite so wide as the stone, in order that this might have a support when it was replaced. Then he hung up one blanket as before, and placed a considerable quantity of the earth in the other blanket and hauled this up to the window, so as to save himself the labour of climbing up afresh with each handful. Listening attentively, so as to be sure that no one was coming along, he flung it with all his force through the window. When he had disposed of all he had brought up he filled the blanket again, and so continued until he had thrown out the whole.

On the following day he not only got out the earth to a greater depth, but was able to push the trench under the adjoining slab, which was in contact with the wall. He got rid of the earth and stones as before. Next morning he worked with renewed vigour, for the result of the day's labour would be to show whether the stone-work was carried down below the level of the floor, or whether the wall rested upon concrete. The third slab came up without difficulty, and, digging down by the wall, to his great satisfaction he found that it rested on a foundation of coarse concrete, which would no doubt be troublesome, but by no means impervious. He soon cleared out the earth and rubble to the same level as the other part of the trench, and after spreading it as usual under his mattress, he began the important task of picking out the concrete. He had not been at work long before he found that in order to get room to use both arms he must widen it out at the end against the wall. This caused a whole day's delay. The cutting of the concrete was toilsome, and it took a week of almost incessant labour to make a passage sufficiently large for him to crawl through. Having ascertained that, as he had expected, the ground beyond this was composed of mixed soil, as that within the wall had been, with fragments of stone, he gave himself a day's rest before proceeding further. It was now six weeks since his imprisonment began, and he felt sure that it would require only three or four days' more work to get to the surface outside.

He wondered what his friends had been doing, and worried greatly about the anxiety that Mercedes would have experienced. This thought indeed had frequently kept him to his work when he would otherwise have desisted, from the fatigue he felt in working in the cramped position which was necessary while getting through the concrete. Roper, too, would be in a terrible way, and Leon would be moving heaven and earth to find some clue to his fate. He wondered what they had been doing, and in what direction they had been searching, for he would have disappeared as suddenly as if the earth had opened and swallowed him, without leaving a single clue.

One thing was certain: suspicion would fall upon Don Silvio. Leon would probably lay the case before the queen regent, and Don Silvio might not impossibly be arrested on the charge of being concerned in his disappearance. He could not help believing that this man was at the bottom of it, for, think how he would, no other reason for his seizure presented itself. Ostensibly he had been imprisoned in order that his connection with Mercedes might be broken off, in which case she might enter a convent, to the great advantage of its revenues. But the knowledge that there was an engagement between them was at present confined to Leon and his sisters, for it had been agreed that it would be much better to keep it quiet until the time approached for their marriage, as Leon felt that the Church would use every effort to prevent this from taking place.

Mercedes might indeed have spoken of it in confession, but it was far more likely that Count Silvio, whose jealousy had been clearly aroused, and who hated him for the result of the duel, had set the Church authorities to work. It was not probable that the prior of the monastery had acted on his own responsibility. It was not a monastery that would benefit by Mercedes' fortune, and mere zeal would scarcely have prompted the prior to take so strong a step as to have him carried off; doubtless, therefore, he was acting under superior authority. Although the Inquisition had died out, and heretics could no longer be tortured or brought to the stake, the Roman Church in Spain was still almost as bigoted as in the olden days, and would assuredly not hesitate to take steps to prevent what would be considered as the backsliding of one of its faith. Knowing the enormous influence the priests still exercised, the measure that had been taken with reference to himself scarcely seemed extraordinary to Arthur, and he resented it rather because he believed that Don Silvio was at the bottom of it than on account of the outrage against himself.

After a rest of thirty-six hours, Arthur set to work as soon as he had eaten his supper. The lamp contained enough oil to burn all night, and it was only by its light that he was able to work. Lying on his stomach in the hole he gradually drove the tunnel forward, being obliged frequently to come out with the earth and rubble as he dug it down. When he had got two feet beyond the wall he turned on his back and, placing the lamp on his chest, began to bring down the earth above him. Luckily the mould was firm and tightly packed, for while there was thus no fear of sudden falls the walls stood upright and the earth dug out like putty. He had not the trouble of taking it out; as it fell he merely pushed it back into the open trench.

By morning he could stand upright to his work. As the bottom of the hole was two feet below the floor he was now some four feet above it. The labour had been very great, and although he had worked stripped to the waist he had suffered much from the heat. He rubbed himself with his blanket, as he had done ever since he began the work, for had he washed the appearance of the water would at once have aroused suspicions that he was engaged upon work of this kind. He dressed again, and was ready to receive his breakfast, and after eating this he went soundly to sleep. He could scarce rouse himself sufficiently to get up and take in his dinner when it came, and putting the tray down he at once went off to sleep again. At five o'clock he woke and ate his dinner, and when his supper arrived he put that by till midnight.

He now set to work with renewed vigour, for if all went well he should be free by morning. He put two of the paving-stones against the sides of his shaft, and, standing upon these, was able to bring down the earth rapidly. When he had dug two feet higher he trod the earth that had fallen firmly down, and placing the stones on these, again mounted on them. By twelve o'clock he could no longer reach overhead, and, measuring from the level of the floor of the cell, found that the cavity was now seven feet above it. He now pulled out the paving-stones, and set to work to dig some holes on each side of the shaft, in which he could place his feet. Having gained another foot by this means he went out, ate his supper, and dressed himself.

He was certain now that he should be out before daybreak. Again he set to work. The earth came down fast under the strokes of his knife. At last, at about four o'clock in the morning, the blade struck against a stone. This he felt was round, and differed altogether from those he had met with embedded in the earth. Gradually he cleared the space beneath it, and then found that a layer of stones closely packed together formed the ceiling of his shaft. He worked with renewed energy until the whole of the earth beneath was cleared away, then he dug two more foot-holes two feet higher than those he had last rested on. Taking his place in these, he pushed with all his force with both hands. The stones gave way at once, and his hands were in the air. In another minute the rest were cleared off, and, putting his hands on the edge of the hole, he hauled himself up and was a free man.

In the joy of his heart he set off to run, but presently steadied down into a walk. It was a quarter of an hour before he came upon a church familiar to him, and he was then able to direct his course to his lodgings. He had a key of the outer door, and, opening this, he felt his way up the stairs until he reached his door. Another key gave him admittance here. Opening the door of the sitting-room, he felt his way to the mantel. Here were always placed a flint and steel and a bundle of slips of rag dipped in sulphur, for although phosphorus matches were rapidly making their way in England, they were as yet unknown in Madrid. At the first blow of the flint against the steel he heard a movement in the next room, and as the sparks flew on to the tinder by the stroke, he heard Roper exclaim "Who is that?" as he jumped out of bed.

"It is I, Roper!"

There was a perfect shout of joy, and then he heard the honest fellow burst into a fit of hysterical sobbing. A moment later the sulphur ignited the tinder, and he lighted a candle. The door of Roper's bedroom was open, and Arthur saw that he had sunk back on to his bed again with his hands before his face. He went in to him and put his hand upon his shoulder.

"Roper, old friend," he said, "compose yourself. Thank God, I am back again safe and sound!"

"The Lord be praised!" Roper said, as, brushing his tears aside, he stood up and grasped Arthur's hands. "It is almost as if you had come back from the dead, sir. I have kept on saying you would return, though I knew in ray heart that I had lost all hope. Why," he said, as they went back to the light, "you are as black as a coal. What has happened to you?"

"It is only honest dirt, Roper. I will go and have a thorough wash, then I will tell you about it;" and he went into his own room, which opened on the other side of the sitting-room. By the time he came back Roper had lighted three more candles, had partly dressed himself, and had got out a bottle of wine and a glass.

"Get out another glass, Roper, and light the fire, then we will sit down and talk it all over. By the way, if you have anything to eat you may as well put it on the table. It is five hours since I have had supper, and I have been doing some hard work since."

Roper hurried away to get the things together while Arthur changed his clothes entirely. Two or three shirts had been handed in each week to him while he was confined in his prison, but he was glad enough of a complete change.

"Now, Roper," he said, as he sat down, "we will eat and talk. In the first place, tell me about my friends."

"The count has been looking for you everywhere, sir. He has had the whole police in search of you. They have got Don Silvio under arrest, but they cannot find out that he was concerned in your disappearance, though nobody has any doubt about it. Miss Mercedes has been ill. She was, I was told, in bed for a month; she is up now, but, as the servants tell me, looking like a ghost. However, I have no doubt she will soon get round, now that you are back.

"The difficulty has been to know where to start looking for you. No one had seen you since you left this house one morning, some two months ago, shortly after breakfast. From that time you had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed you up. I always said, 'The captain will come back if he is alive--bolts and bars won't hold him'. And I really believed so for three or four weeks; but when time went on and there were no signs of you, I began to think that you must have gone under. If you had, I knew it must have been directly you were taken, for before two days had passed Don Silvio had been caught. He was down at his place in the country, and was able to prove that he was there at the date of your capture. Well, they kept him under arrest, thinking that if you did come back you would be able to prove that he had a hand in it somehow."

"I believe he had, Roper, though I may say I have no shadow of proof. Now I will tell you all about it;" and he went into a full history of his capture, of his imprisonment, of his interview with the prior, and of the manner in which he had made his escape.

"You have done well indeed, sir, to get out of that place as you did! If I had been there, I should never have come out again alive. Lord, how you must have worked! So the priests were at the bottom of it after all?"

"Not quite at the bottom; for I have no doubt whatever that Don Silvio put them up to it. No doubt he said to them: 'Here is a young lady of noble family with a fine income. She wants to throw herself away on a Protestant and a foreigner; if you can manage to keep him away from her, she is pretty sure to go into a convent. She said, when she threw me over a year and a half ago, that it was her intention not to marry, but to lead a religious life; therefore if you get her lover removed now, no doubt she will do so.' You see, there were two motives for getting me shut up--one to avoid the grievous scandal of a Catholic lady of good family marrying a heretic, and the second, that of getting possession of her dowry. Well, thank goodness, I have baulked them! Has Colonel Wylde been here?"

"No, sir; he has been up in the north ever since you disappeared."

"Has there been much fighting there?"

"None at all. Maroto turned traitor and sold Don Carlos. He surrendered on condition of a big grant of money. His army dispersed, and Don Carlos has crossed the frontier."

"And Espartero?"

"He has been made Duke of Vittoria, and is still in the north settling things. In the east there has been fighting, but only small affairs, so you have not lost anything that way."

It was seven o'clock in the morning before Arthur had brought his story to a close, and he now said: "You had better go at once across to Count Leon's--I dare say he will be up by this time. Take him aside quietly, and tell him that I am here, and that I leave it to him to break the news to his sister as he thinks best. When he has done so, I will, of course, go round and see her."

Roper returned in half an hour with the count.

"My dear Arthur! My dear Arthur!" the latter exclaimed, as he ran into the room and embraced his friend. "Thank God that you are back again! I had given up all hope, and had no question at all in my mind that you had been murdered quietly by the orders of Don Silvio, and been buried in some obscure spot where your body would never be found. I could not at first believe what your man told me half an hour ago. I fancy I took him by the shoulders and shook him, and told him he was either mad or a liar. At last I was convinced that he was sane, and we hurried off together. We came too fast for talk, but I gathered from him that you had been confined in a monastery."

"Yes, Leon; and except that I was kept a solitary prisoner in a cell, I had nothing much to complain of. I was frankly told by the prior that I should remain there, however long a time it might be, until Mercedes had taken the veil."

"The rascal!" Leon said wrathfully. "That is just what we feared, or at least something like it, when we agreed that your engagement to her had better be kept private for a time. Not, of course, that I ever dreamt that they would attempt to carry you off, but I knew that they would move heaven and earth to break off the match. Now, please tell me all about it."

Arthur again went through the story, and gave his reasons for believing that Don Silvio was at the bottom of it.

"I regard that as certain," Leon said; "but that does not alter the facts. I shall have to take every care of Mercedes; they may try to suppress her as they have tried to suppress you. I have seen Queen Christina several times, and she is intensely interested in your case. We must go and see her this afternoon, and lay all the facts before her, and I shall ask her to take Mercedes under her protection, which I am sure she will do. Even the Church would not venture to drag her from the palace. As to your affair, it will require a good deal of talking over. Of course, if you report what has happened to your government they will kick up a tremendous row about it, but I don't know that that would be of any advantage either to her or to us."

"No, I can quite understand that, Leon; and it is the last thing I should wish to do. As you say, it will require a lot of thinking about and talking over; but at the first blush it certainly seems to me that, now that I have got away without further damage or injury than being shut up for a couple of months, the best policy is to say nothing about it; but, of course, we shall have to consider whether there will be any repetition of it, and still more, whether your sister is likely to suffer any persecution or to incur any risk of being kidnapped. Of course you have not told her yet that I have turned up again?"

"No. She does not get up till ten o clock, and I thought it as well not to disturb her; besides, I really knew nothing about it myself beyond the fact that you had reappeared, and even of that I felt scarcely assured until I saw you myself, for I had not entertained a shadow of hope that you were alive. I will go and break the news to her now. You may come across in half an hour."

"Very well, but I shall not expect to see her; perhaps I had better not see her at all to-day. It may be well to break it to her very gradually. If you were to tell her that this morning you had obtained a clue, and thought it possible that I had been carried away and shut up in a monastery; then this afternoon you could further say that you believed you knew which monastery it was in which I was imprisoned, and that you intended at once to take steps to obtain my release; then either this evening or to-morrow morning you could tell her the truth, and take me in to her."

"I believe that would be the best plan, Arthur. She has been very ill, and is at present a mere ghost of herself; but she is of a cheerful disposition, and although she has come to despair of ever seeing you again, I am sure that she would eagerly grasp at any shadow of hope, and once she has you again she will soon pick up."

"In that case I had better not come round to your house, Leon."

"No, I think not. If any of the servants were to see you they might, in spite of any orders that I might issue, make a hash of it in some way or other. I doubt whether they would be able to help doing so--by their looks if not by their tongues, for you are a general favourite in the house; and although no one has ever been told, I should think that many must have some idea how matters stand between you and Mercedes. As Colonel Wylde is away, there can be no reason for your leaving the house, and it is better that you should not do so, because you would be sure to meet somebody who would know you; and as your disappearance has been the talk of the town, they would carry the news home to their families, and some of the ladies might take it across to Mercedes. I will be back again in an hour. I will come round in my carriage, and then we will drive together to the palace. To prevent any possibility of someone spreading the news from there, I will give strict orders that whoever calls to-day--no matter who it is--is not to be allowed to see my sister. Of course I shall not tell either of the girls, their looks would let the secret out before they had been with her for two minutes."

Leon was back in the course of an hour. "I have administered the first dose of hope," he said, "and the effect has been wonderful. Before that she was sitting absolutely listless, taking no interest whatever in anything that went on around her; now she is all flushed and excited. I began by saying that information had reached me that led me to believe that you had been carried to a monastery. I did this very gently and in a roundabout way, but she leapt to her feet with her eyes blazing, and insisted on knowing what were the grounds of my belief. I was obliged to tell her that I knew for almost a certainty that on the evening of the day on which you disappeared, monks were noticed carrying a litter through the streets. I said that of course this might mean nothing, but that it was certainly singular, and that I had already set a number of men to work to find out where the monks had been last seen, and the direction in which they were proceeding, and that I hoped by this afternoon to get certain news. I promised her that I would let her know directly I did so. I argued that four monks would hardly be carrying a dead man, nor could I see any reason why they should be carrying a living one. I said that a cloth had been thrown over the litter and that no one could see who or what was beneath it. I left her walking up and down the room in a state of great agitation, and I rather think it would be better to change our plans and let her know the whole truth shortly."

"Perhaps so, Leon. We will sit here for another half-hour, and then you can go in and break the news to her little by little, till at last you can tell her that I am in the house waiting to see her. But I should advise you, as we go along, to call at your doctor's and take him with you, in case the shock is too much for her."

"Perhaps that would be advisable," Leon said; "the anxiety and excitement might be worse for her than the sudden joy would be."

Accordingly they drove back to Leon's, and the count went into his sister's room, while Arthur went into the drawing-room, where the two younger girls were sitting. These leapt up with a scream as he entered, and looked at him as if doubting the evidence of their senses. He held up his hand. "It is I myself," he said, "but do not make a noise. Your brother has gone in to break the news to Mercedes." Convinced that their eyes had not deceived them, the girls ran forward and embraced him affectionately, pouring out questions as to where he had been, and how it was that he had returned.

"It is a long story," he said, "and I cannot tell it all now. I have been shut up to prevent me from marrying Mercedes, and I have managed to make my way out again; and as you can see by looking at my hands," and he held them out, "I have done a lot of hard work in breaking out."

Both girls uttered exclamations at the blistered state of his hands.

"They are nothing to what they were after the first four or five days' work," he said; "they really were bad then. They have got pretty horny now."

"But who could have wanted to interfere between you and Mercedes? No one has any right to interfere with her except Leon."

"There are people who think they have a right to interfere," he said, "and do interfere in most matters in this country."

"You look very white, Arthur," the elder girl said.

"Yes, I dare say; I have been two months in a cell with very little light."

"In a cell?" they repeated.

"Yes. There was no great hardship in it. I had books to read and very decent food, so the only thing I had to complain of was my loss of liberty."

He chatted for a few minutes longer, and then the door opened and Leon appeared and beckoned to Arthur to follow him. "She knows that you are in Madrid and free, and that you will be here in a few minutes. You had better leave her to herself for a little while to get calm. Of course she is greatly shaken, but she stood it better than I had expected, when I went in. I found that she believed I had not told her all, and was prepared to find that I had really got some important clue as to your whereabouts. Of course that made it easier for me to tell her the truth gradually."

They talked for a short time and then Leon went out of the room, and a minute later Mercedes ran in, and with a cry of joy rushed into Arthur's arms. Leon came in ten minutes later, and found her sitting on a sofa with her head on Arthur's shoulder.

"It is almost worth while having been so unhappy, Leon," she said, "to feel such joy as I do now."

"Well, I won't say that, Mercedes; at the same time I admit that it is very joyful to have him back again."

"I know nothing yet," she said, "of what has happened, or what has kept him away from us. I have been too perfectly happy at having him back, to think of asking what he has been doing."

"He has been shut up to keep him away from you."

"To keep him away from me?" Mercedes repeated.

"Yes, dear. It seems that it occurred to some of the worthy fathers of the church that it would be a very sinful thing for you to marry a heretic; and also that if this heretic were to disappear, possibly you might take it into your head to enter a convent and bestow your wealth upon the church. Accordingly they seized him and put him into a cell in a monastery, and informed him that he would have to remain there until you had entered a convent. As Arthur entertained quite different views he set to work to escape from his cell, and after six weeks' hard digging underground, he this morning made his way out, and here he is."

"Is it possible," the girl said, standing up with wide open eyes, "that it was the church that took Arthur from me?"

"Yes, dear; some unworthy members of the church."

"Arthur," she said, "when we are married and you take me to England, you shall teach me what your church believes. I will never remain in a church that has treated us so."

"We will talk about that, dear, later on," Arthur said soothingly. "There are bad people and good in every church, and there is no reason for changing because some of them may do wrong things. If, some day, you really come to think that our religion is the best, I shall be very pleased, but it must not be because some men, in an excess of zeal for their church, have somewhat ill-treated me."

Leon nodded approvingly. "You speak rightly, Arthur. Many evil things have been done in Spain by the priests. I believe myself that the misfortunes that have befallen us are a punishment for the evil deeds done in the name of religion here. But, as you say, it is not because evil deeds are mistakenly done in its name that the religion itself is bad. I myself am no bigot--there are very few educated men in this country who are so--and I fully recognized, when I first saw what Mercedes' feelings were towards you, that if she became your wife it was possible that in time she would adopt your religion. In all their main features there is no great difference between the two creeds, and certainly I should feel no great grief should Mercedes adopt your faith; but I agree with you that it should be as the result of conviction, and not merely because she has reason to complain of the action towards you of certain fanatics. Now, we will go in to the girls, who will be dying to know what has taken place."

*CHAPTER XIX*

*MILITARY MOVEMENTS*

"Now, girls," Leon said, when Arthur had given a full relation of his adventure, "you must understand that this story must not go beyond ourselves. Whether any steps will be taken in the matter must depend largely upon what the queen regent and her advisers decide. It is a grave matter for the state to embroil itself with the church, and Arthur has already told me that he will be guided entirely by their wishes in the matter. I thank him for his consideration. Angry as I am at what has taken place, I feel that we ourselves could not but suffer were such a grave scandal to get abroad, for whatever might be the results to the people who have been concerned in this, we should undoubtedly be held in some respects accountable for them; and it is certainly a serious matter to quarrel with the church.

"The results might be very far-reaching. If this outrage upon a British officer were known in England, it would produce a most unfavourable impression. The cause of the queen has received warm support there, British soldiers and sailors have been fighting for us; but there is still a strong Carlist party in England, and these would certainly take advantage of this affair to stir up public feeling against us. Therefore I feel that we are all under a great obligation to Arthur for volunteering to put himself in the hands of the regent, and to consent to allow this business to be hushed up. At any rate, you must preserve absolute silence until we know what is to be done. I am going to drive to the palace now to lay the matter before the regent, and shall be able to tell you more this afternoon. Now, Mercedes, if you will take my advice you will lie down for a bit; you have been ill, you know, and are not yet strong."

"I shall soon be strong again," she said; "still, I shall take your advice, for I do feel shaken, and I want to be bright this afternoon when you come back."

Leon drove with Arthur to the palace, and the former sent in word to the queen regent that he begged to see her in private audience. A quarter of an hour later they were shown into the room where she was sitting. She rose with an exclamation of surprise on seeing Arthur.

"Why, where have you been, Captain Hallett?" she exclaimed. "I began to give up all hope of ever seeing you again."

"It is a somewhat long story, your majesty, but if you will condescend to listen to it I will tell it to you in full. I have come not to demand justice at your hands, but to leave the matter entirely to you, to take any steps or no steps at all, as you may decide."

He then told the story, his narrative being frequently interrupted by exclamations of anger from Christina.

"It is infamous!" she exclaimed, when he brought the story to an end; "most infamous! I thank you most heartily for having come direct to me instead of sending your complaint home. It is a very serious matter. The church is already by no means well disposed towards me, and the priests throughout the country have largely thrown their influence on to the side of my enemies. I have a council this afternoon, and shall bring the matter before them; you have indeed added greatly to the obligation I am already under to you by offering to leave the matter in my hands. Of course you have a right to large compensation for this illegal imprisonment."

"I can assure you that I desire no compensation at all, your majesty; I have already benefited very largely by your bounty. The only thing I would ask is, that if nothing is done, you will receive Donna Mercedes at your palace and take her under your protection until we are married. Having failed with me, the next attempt will be made upon her, and she would find it a much harder task than I have to free herself from their hands."

"That I will very gladly do, senor; and I don't think that even the church would venture to interfere with a lady under my protection. If it did, it would find me far less forgiving than you are."

The next morning Arthur received a message requesting him to go to the palace.

"Your case was fully discussed yesterday, Captain Hallett," the queen regent said, "and my council are all grateful for your magnanimity in placing yourself in their hands. They are fully sensible of the great wrong that has been inflicted upon you, and of the very serious consequences that might have ensued if you had chosen to place your case in the hands of the British government. I had sent to the prior of the monastery of St. Isidore, and he was called before the council and ordered to explain his conduct. He did not in any way attempt to deny the facts as stated by you, but declared that he was acting under the orders of the bishop, whereupon an order was sent the latter to leave the country at once and take up his residence at Rome until he shall have received permission to return. The council proposed to pay you ten thousand pounds as an indemnity for the treatment you have received. I told them that I would inform you of their decision, but that you had already expressed to me your determination not to accept one. They were a little incredulous," she said with a slight smile, "which is not to be wondered at, considering that there was not one of them who would, in similar circumstances, have felt the slightest hesitation in accepting such an offer. However, I told them I would see you to-day and lay the offer before you."

"Which I need hardly say, your majesty, I decline. I own that I am well pleased to hear that the author of this affair has received some punishment. After that, madam, I do not think it will be necessary for Donna Mercedes to avail herself of your kind protection. The issue of this order for the bishop to go into exile will be so strong a mark of your majesty's displeasure that there can, I think, be no fear whatever of any further steps being taken by my enemies. Donna Mercedes has been very ill, and I think she will be more likely to recover her health speedily in the society of her brother and sisters than in the atmosphere of the palace, where, however great your majesty's kindness, there must be a certain amount of stiffness and ceremony."

"I should have been glad to have her with me," Christina said, "but there is no doubt a certain amount of truth in what you say. However, I will have her here frequently, so that it may be understood that she is a special friend of mine, in which case I am sure no one will try to interfere with her."

Colonel Wylde returned that evening, and after hearing the whole story from Arthur, expressed his warm approval of the course he had taken.

"It would have been most damaging to the royal cause," he said, "if this affair had been made public in England; and though I think you would have been more than justified in accepting the amount offered as an indemnity, I can but admire your disinterestedness in refusing it."

"And now, colonel, I am ready to start for any point where you may require my services; I have been idle too long already."

"Well, the war is practically over in the north. That scoundrel Maroto has arranged terms for himself, and for a few of his friends, with Espartero, but has made no conditions whatever for the soldiers who have fought so hard for Don Carlos. However, these have been permitted to return to their homes, and at present Espartero is occupied in settling affairs there and in preparing his army to take the field in the spring against Cabrera. A number of small isolated campaigns are going on in Aragon. We have already three or four commissioners there, but it is perhaps as well that you should proceed there at once, as it is now three months since I have had any reports from you to send in with mine. I have, of course, been obliged to report your disappearance, and shall now mention that you had been pounced upon by some enemies of the queen and held in confinement, but that you had effected your escape."

That evening Arthur heard from Leon that Count Silvio had been released from the close observation he had been subjected to for the past two months. "It is believed," he said, "that he was the instigator of the action against you, but there is no proof whatever that this is so, and there is therefore no excuse for keeping him further under arrest. He has, however, been ordered to retire to his estates, as there is at least the strongest ground for suspecting that he was concerned in the attack upon you by those street ruffians, and his whole conduct has been in the highest degree suspicious."

"I shall be glad to know that he is away, Leon. Of course I am not sure that he was really concerned in my imprisonment; the priest who is Mercedes' confessor is likely enough to be at the bottom of it."

"I think so too, and have told Mercedes that she had better choose some other confessor."

"I think the two men were set upon me by him; but I am inclined to own that I was in the wrong in the matter of that duel. It was somewhat reasonable that he should have been jealous, and it would have been fair if I had contented myself with running him through the shoulder instead of making him a perfect laughing-stock. I was irritated by his manner, and by the way in which he had brought two or three dozen of his friends to see him run me through. Still, I own that I was wrong, and if the man would come and offer to shake hands I would not refuse to do so."

"Then you are a good deal more forgiving than I should be," Leon said heartily; "and I should like nothing better than to fight him myself. However, I admit that there is something in what you say; certainly he had some ground of complaint against Mercedes. I felt that it was hard upon him when I wrote begging him to break off the engagement. Of course, I have been glad that I did so since I have come to know him better, and feel that Mercedes had a very fortunate escape."

"Don't let her go out unless she is accompanied by one of her sisters as well as her duenna."

"No, I will take care of that; she shall be well looked after, I promise you, and I don't suppose she herself will care for going out except to the palace. It will be well for her to go there pretty often. She is fond of Christina, and she will feel herself that her intimacy there will be a great protection to her."

In Catalonia the Carlists were still very strong. The royal army numbered at least fifty-five thousand men. About seventeen thousand--half of whom were regular troops--garrisoned the permanent forts, and of the remainder twenty-five thousand belonging to the local militia were scattered among no fewer than two hundred and seventeen fortified villages and small towns. These were of no military importance, but if they had not been defended, Cabrera's forces, which were marching about the country, would have swept them bare of their inhabitants, carrying off all the stores they contained, and burning them to the ground. It was therefore necessary to garrison them, not only because this diminished the supply of stores available for the use of the enemy, but because it enabled contributions to be levied for the queen's cause. Undoubtedly the holding of these places answered those purposes, but, upon the other hand, the employment in this manner of practically the whole army in Catalonia completely unfitted it for all operations in the field, and enabled Cabrera to carry on his operations without meeting with any efficient opposition.