A Castle in Spain Part 39

"Pooh!" said Brooke, whose voice by this time had regained its old careless ring; and he whined on:

"Cats don't come at half-past eight Tap-tap-tappiug at the garding gate!"

Talbot gave a sigh that sounded like a groan. The sounds below subsided, and all was still once more.

So the night pa.s.sed.

Morning came.

A man brought up bread and wine; but now there was no thought of eating, even for the sake of saving strength. Neither one spoke, nor did either venture to look at the other.

At length they were summoned outside. Lopez was there, with half a dozen men around him. Farther away were the rest of the men, watching the scene. On the right were a dozen men with rifles. Brooke was as cool as usual. Talbot was calm, but deathly pale.

"Senor Brooke," said Lopez, "I am a man of but few words, and few need now be said. I have given you a long respite--longer than I said. What is your decision? Will you go with us and show us where the Carlists took the English ladies?"

"Senor Captain," said Brooke, calmly, "I am quite unable to give you any information about the ladies. I don't see what I can do."

"Lead us to the place," said Lopez.

Brooke shook his head.

"I can't say any more," said he.

"Very well," said Lopez, quietly. "Then you must die."

"You can certainly kill me, Senor Captain, but what good will that do?"

"Oh, no particular good," said Lopez, "but the law is that spies shall be shot at once, and I merely gave you a chance. You're a bold fellow, and I should like to spare you--that's all."

"Thanks, Senor Captain. And may I make one request?"

"Name it, senor."

"This young priest is free, is he not?"

"Certainly."

"You will suffer him to go without molestation."

"Certainly."

"He is young, and a stranger in the country. He doesn't know a word of the language, and is in despair about--about me. Would it be possible for him to procure a guide for part of the way, at least to Vittoria, or some nearer railway station?"

"I will furnish him with one," said Lopez, "all the way."

"Thank you, senor," said Brooke.

"Senor," said Lopez, "it pains me deeply to see you rush on to destruction."

"Senor Captain," said Brooke, "you are a man of honor and generosity.

I wish I could do what you ask."

Lopez shrugged his shoulders. Then he sighed. Then he took a final look at Brooke.

After this he motioned to two of his men. These two came forward and led Brooke to a place opposite the file of armed men. One of the men offered to bind his eyes, but Brooke motioned him away.

"I don't want it," said he.

As he said this, Talbot came up and stood by his side. Lopez walked down toward the file of men and stood at a point on one side, half-way between the condemned and the soldiers.

"Talbot," said Brooke, in a low voice, "go away."

"Brooke," said Talbot, "will you not live?"

"What! in dishonor?"

"Oh, my G.o.d!" groaned Talbot. "What shall I do? He will die--and I've killed him!"

"Talbot," said Brooke, in a husky and unsteady voice, "go away.

You'll make me die two deaths. You are safe. Lopez has promised to send a guide with you to Vittoria."

"A guide?" said Talbot, in a strange voice.

"Think of me--sometimes," stammered Brooke.

Talbot turned and looked at him. Brooke saw the look and all that was conveyed in it, and then obstinately shut his eyes.

Lopez now turned to see if the two friends had said their last say.

He saw a singular sight. The "priest" was standing directly in front of Brooke and facing the file of soldiers. At that moment also Brooke opened his eyes again and saw Talbot in front of him.

He stepped forward and seized her arm.

"Oh, Talbot! oh, Talbot!" he groaned. "This is worse than death. Why will you torment me?"

Talbot shook him off. Brooke threw a despairing look at the captain, and shrank back. Talbot folded her arms and stood in front of him.

Had she only been able to speak Spanish she would have told them all--how this man had run into danger on her account, how he was now dying through her, how she was resolved to die either for him or with him. She would have told them all that, but that would not have revealed the half of all the eloquent story which stood unfolded in her att.i.tude and in her face.

She stood erect, her arms folded on her breast, facing thus the file of soldiers.

Her look, however, was as though she saw them not. Her eyes were turned toward them, yet their gaze was fixed on vacancy. She thus showed her face--looking thus with steadfast eyes--a calm face, serene, tranquil, white as marble, and as motionless. All that Brooke had seen there which had made him think of the Angel Gabriel, and all that Lopez had seen there which made him think of the Apostle John, was now clearly manifest in that n.o.ble and expressive countenance. It was the face of a pure, a lofty, an exalted nature, full of profoundest feeling and matchless self-control--the face of one who was resolved to die, the face of a martyr, the face of one who was standing in full view of Death, who was waiting for his approach, and was undismayed.

As for Brooke, he at last experienced all that he had dreaded. He was utterly overcome. White, ghastly, trembling from head to foot, he stared at Talbot with something like horror in his face, yet he could not move. He stood shuddering, and speechless.

At such an astonishing and unexpected spectacle the very soldiers gazed in awe.

Hardened as they were, there was something in Talbot's determined self-sacrifice, and in Brooke's manifest anguish of soul, which overcame them all, and hushed them all alike into wonder and silence.