A Castle in Spain Part 8

"Why?"

"Oh, well--because there's been such a muddle about it all. You see, I proposed, and was accepted, in the usual course of things."

"Ah, now, Mr. Rivers," said Katie, "that's not fair!"

"Fair! what isn't fair?"

"Why, you're skipping all the best part."

"The best part? I don't understand."

"Well, I mean you're leaving out all the love parts. I want to hear all about your love affair--how you first saw her; how you felt; how she treated you; how you were tormented by the pangs of jealousy, agitated by hope and fear, until you knew that she was yours. And you have the heart to skip all this and go on to the stupid, commonplace end of it!"

Harry laughed.

"Well," said he, "the end of my case has not yet come; and the farther on I go the more exciting it grows. But I'll tell you all if you want me to. Shall I begin at the beginning, and tell you how I first became acquainted with her?"

"Yes, yes, do!" said Katie, eagerly.

"Well, it was at sea, in a tremendous gale, when we both were face to face with death."

At this Katie threw up her eyes, clasped her hands, and exclaimed,

"Oh, how perfectly _ex_quisite! how utterly delicious! how quite too awfully jolly! But when? where? Oh, _do_ go on!"

"It was aboard the steamer from Ma.r.s.eilles to Leghorn. During the night after leaving a furious storm arose. The steamer was an old rattletrap, and soon began to leak fearfully. I was in my berth, trying to sleep, when at last I was roused by a yell from all the crew and pa.s.sengers. I rushed out and on deck, and saw the sea all breaking in foam over the vessel. The pa.s.sengers and crew were all mixed up in a wild, confused ma.s.s, trying to scramble into the boats.

This was made visible by the lightning flashes at intervals, after which everything would become as black as night. I saw that nothing could be done, so I took my station near the mizzen shrouds, and held on there, waiting for the end. While here I saw a female figure crouching down under the bulwarks and clinging there. Partly out of pity, and partly for the sake of having something to do, I helped her up to her feet, held her up in that position, and told her to cling to the shrouds, and stay by me as long as she possibly could.

"At length, in the midst of a flash of lightning, I happened to notice that the jolly-boat was hanging from the davits astern. No one was near: every one was running about forward. I determined to make an effort for life. The woman was almost senseless, so I half carried, half dragged her to the boat and got her in. Then I pa.s.sed a line around the seat of the boat and secured her to it; after which I began to lower the boat down. This was a deuced hard job, but I managed it at last. Then I jumped in, and cut the line that held us, and away we went in the boat, which was sent spinning along like a feather over the boiling sea. I don't know how we kept afloat, but we did. The woman never spoke one word. So we pa.s.sed a fearful night, and at length morning came. Then the woman began to cry bitterly. I soothed her as well as I could.

"We were in a terrible situation. The storm had nearly gone down, but we were threatened with something worse, for we had neither water nor provisions. I gave my companion some brandy, which revived her. We were far away out of sight of land, and no sails were visible anywhere. I had a couple of oars, and with these I pulled toward the north. My companion soon regained her composure and her strength, and we were able to discuss our prospects. She told me her name and destination. She was on her way to Rome to join her father, in company with an aged relative and her maid. Her father had been ill, and had been living in Italy for his health. She was anxious about him, but still more troubled about her relative, who had been left on board the steamer.

"Miss Talbot was very beautiful, and the most unselfish person I ever saw. She was perpetually trying to lighten my labor. She insisted on taking an oar and trying to row. She bore up most uncomplainingly against our hardships. In fact, she acted like a regular brick. Of course, before I had talked with her half an hour I was head over heels in love with her."

"But it's awfully nice to have your life saved, and be alone together in a boat like that," said Katie. She spoke in an injured tone, as though a shipwreck was something highly desirable, which a harsh fate had cruelly kept away from her.

"Well," continued Harry, "we starved, and starved, and choked with thirst, for two or three days; but she never uttered one single murmur."

"I should think not," said Katie. "What had she to complain of? What more could she want? Why, it was utterly lovely! I'm sure I shouldn't care to eat one single bit if I were in such a situation. I could not be hungry at such times--I never am. Hungry, indeed!"

The idea was too absurd, so Katie dismissed it with scorn.

"I could see," continued Harry, "that she was suffering. Her face grew paler and paler. She was evidently growing weaker. She looked at me piteously--"

"Oh, you will be so prosaic!" interrupted Katie. "Can't you see that it wasn't hunger at all? It's the old, old story:

"'Then her cheek was pale, and thinner Than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions With a mute observance hung.'

"And I said," continued Katie--

"'And I said, my dearest Pard'ner, Speak, and speak the truth to me; Trust me, Pard'ner; all the current Of my being turns to thee.'

"The fact is," she added, abruptly, "I believe you're making up nearly the whole of this!"

"Making it up!" cried Harry. "Me! Why?"

"Why, because such delightful situations never do occur in real life.

It's only in fiction."

"No, really, now--it was really so," said Harry. "Why should I make this up? Really, on my honor--"

"Well, you're coloring the facts, at least," said Katie. "If it's all true, I think it's hard on poor people like me, that never can find any pleasant excitement to break the monotony of life. But never mind--please go on."

"Well," continued Harry, "we drifted on for several days. We saw vessels, but they were too far away to see us. At last we came in sight of land, and there we were picked up by a boat that took us to Leghorn. I then went on with Miss Talbot to Rome. I learned that we were the only ones that had been saved out of the ill-fated steamer.

Miss Talbot's father, who, as I said, was an invalid, had heard the news, and, thinking his daughter lost, sank under the blow. On our arrival at Rome he was dead. It was a mournful end to our journey.

"He was buried in Rome. Miss Talbot returned to England with an English family, with whom her father had been acquainted. I did not intrude on her just then, but paid her a visit afterward. At that time we came to an understanding, and then I went back to Barcelona.

And now I come to the real point of my story--the thing that I was going to tell you."

"Oh, I'm so very much obliged," said Katie, "for what you've told me thus far!"

"Now, Miss Talbot, you must know, has very few relatives. She's the last of an ancient family, and one or two uncles and aunts are all that are left besides herself. Her life has been by no means gay, or even cheerful, and perhaps that was one reason why she was willing to accept me."

"How delightful it is," said Katie, "to see such perfect modesty! Mr.

Rivers, you are almost too diffident to live!"

"Oh, but really I mean that a girl like Miss Talbot, with her wealth, and ancient family, and social standing, and all that, might have the pick of all the best fellows in the country."

"That stands to reason; and so you imply that when such a lady chose you, you--"

"Ah, now, Miss Westlotorn, I didn't," said Harry. "I'm not so infernally conceited as all that, you know."

"But hadn't she promised in the boat?"

"In the boat! Well, yes--"

"Of course: then why did she have to choose you again?"

"Oh, well--in the boat it was an informal sort of thing. But never mind. She promised to marry me, and I went back to Barcelona. We then corresponded for about a year."

"How awfully dreary!" sighed Katie. "I do so detest letter-writing!

If I had to write letters, I would break the engagement."

"Well, it's a bother, of course," said Harry; "but, after all, a letter is the only subst.i.tute one can have for the absent one."