would make little difference whether we arrived there two or three days
earlier or later."

"That is true enough, Roper; but if he is watching us here, he could
follow us by one road as well as another.  We have our pistols and
swords, and I should say that we could render a pretty good account of
four or five of them."

"I have no doubt we could, captain; still, I would rather not fight
against long odds if I could avoid it.  You see, sir, since I got that
fifteen hundred pounds banked to my credit in England I feel more
careful about my life than before. It did not much matter then whether I
went down or not; now it seems to me that my life has a distinct value,
and I don’t want to throw it away."

"Well, I can say the same, Roper.  Of course I always knew I was coming
into an estate some day, but I don’t know that I thought much about it.
Now my life is of great value because it is of value to Donna Mercedes.
I don’t say anything about the money I have acquired, but certainly for
her sake I do hold to life pretty strongly; at the same time I cannot
turn back from my duty for an unknown danger and merely because you
think you have recognized Don Silvio.  I have proved that I am a far
better swordsman than he.  Since my duel with him I have practised a
good deal with my pistols, and can, I think, account with them for two
or three assailants.  You have practised as well, and I fancy that you
ought to be able to settle with two of them in your four shots.  Let us
suppose that Don Silvio has six fellows with him--I should hardly say
that he would bring more.  Well, if we can each dispose of two, that
only leaves us with three, counting Don Silvio himself, to manage."

"Well, captain, that is all right; but if these six men are lying in
ambush and fire together, they may upset our calculations altogether."

"That is certainly so, Roper.  But unless we are going to turn tail and
ride back to Madrid on the strength of your belief that you saw Don
Silvio, I do not see how that is to be helped.  Mind, it is I and not
you whom Don Silvio wants to kill.  I have got my shirt of mail, and I
do not think that a pistol bullet would go through it; so that if they
direct their fire at me, unless I am shot through the head I reckon that
I shall still be in fighting order after their first discharge.  At any
rate, Roper, I do not mean to turn back."

"Well, if you go on, of course I go on, sir," Roper said doggedly;
"there is no question at all about that."

"I think, Roper, the best thing for us to do would be, when we have
taken our meal, to sally out in different directions with our cloaks on
and our caps over our faces.  Possibly one or other of us may alight
upon him if he is here.  If we meet him, we will talk the matter over
again.  I don’t want to do anything headstrong; and if we ascertain that
the count is here, we will discuss whether we can make a detour that
will throw him off the scent, though I say honestly I don’t think such
an attempt would be of any use.  If he has men with him they will
certainly be posted on watch round this hotel, and he will learn all
that there is to be learned of our movements; and whatever we do, we
shall have to fight for it. If he has more than six men I should say
that if we are attacked we had better trust to our horses and not to the
strength of our arms, and ride for it.  There is nothing cowardly in
running away from a greatly superior force, and certainly I shall not
hesitate to do so if I see that they are too strong for us."

Accordingly, after dinner they put on their cloaks and sallied out.

"Don’t move out of the main street of the town, Roper," Arthur said.
"They will not attack us there; but if we were to turn down any side
street they might fall upon us suddenly.  We had better be back here in
an hour’s time, and we will then exchange notes."

At the end of that time they met again at the door of the inn.

"I think you are right, Roper.  I am sure that one man at least has
followed me all the time I have been out."

"I thought so at first, captain; but the fellow I suspected brushed
against me roughly before I had been out very long, and then apologized.
It struck me that he wanted to look at my face; anyhow, I did not see
anything of him afterwards. Don Silvio could not have given them a very
accurate description of us; for, as you stand six feet one and I am not
more than five feet eight, no one who knew anything about us could very
well mistake you."

"I have certainly been followed," said Arthur, "and I feel sure that if
I had moved out of the main street I should have been attacked.  There
were two fellows who kept together, and another who followed close
behind.  I suspected all three, as they generally kept at about the same
distance from me. Well, I have no doubt now that you were right about
Don Silvio.  I will see if they have got such a thing as a map in the
hotel.  I don’t suppose they have; but at any rate I will ask the
landlord to send up some man who knows the roads well to my room, and I
will find out as much as I can of the different routes, and then we can
decide on what we had best do."

                              *CHAPTER XX*

                          *THE END OF A FEUD*

The result of Arthur’s enquiries was that the three roads by which he
could travel to Saragossa were about equally bad, and that upon all of
them there were places along the face of the hills at which attacks
might be made.

"I had half a mind," he said to Roper afterwards, "to hire a couple of
men as guides, telling them that they had better bring weapons with
them.  But it is likely enough that one or two of Don Silvio’s men may
be stationed in the hotel, and you may be sure they would question
anyone who had been up to my room.  Don Silvio might afterwards see them
and hire their services, and we might be shot in the back when the
others opened fire at us from an ambush.  So I think we cannot do better
than go forward by the main road.  If we once get a start of them they
may not be able to catch us, for they are certainly not likely to be
better mounted than we are; and they cannot go on before us, for then
they could not know which road we should take."

Accordingly in the morning, as soon as they had mounted, they took the
straight road and travelled fast.  They kept a keen look-out at all
spots where an ambush was likely to be planted, but everything was
quiet, and they reached their destination that evening without
adventure.

"It will be more dangerous to-morrow, Roper," Arthur said as they sat at
supper together.  "We are fairly started on this road now, and there is
no choice open to us as to which route we can take.  They will know
that, and may start before we do, and choose their position for
attacking us."

"Well, I almost hope they will do so, sir.  I am not afraid of a fight,
but it makes one jumpy keeping always on the look-out, and expecting a
shot from every bush we pass."

"I feel that myself, Roper.  If we must fight I would rather do so now,
and have done with it."

Next morning, feeling that if their enemies had started in front of them
it would be useless to try to evade them, they proceeded at a much
slower pace than on the previous day. After riding three hours they came
to a spot where the road was cut along the face of an almost
perpendicular hill, with a torrent running at its foot.  As they began
to ascend this, Arthur unbuckled the covers of the holsters, so that the
pistols were ready for instant use.  He directed Roper to do the same.

"Now," he said, "will you ride on my left, keeping exactly alongside?
It is I whom they will fire at, but as this mail shirt of mine will keep
out ordinary pistol balls I am not afraid that I shall be hurt.
Directly they have fired, they will be sure to jump out from the place
where they may be lying; then empty your pistols among them and go at
them. There is no place for them to hide here, but there maybe farther
on.  At any rate, do as I tell you.  Keep your horse’s head in a line
with mine."

Holding his rein in his left hand, and keeping his right close on the
handle of a pistol, Arthur rode on.  Roper had attempted to remonstrate
against the order he had given, but Arthur silenced him.

"You must just do as you are ordered, Roper.  One or two might shoot at
you if you were riding behind me, and then I should be left alone to
fight the whole of them.  I shall certainly want your help."

They rode along until they came to a spot where the cliff fell away,
leaving a semicircular depression which was filled with low bush.

"They are here, if anywhere," said Arthur.  "Get your pistol ready,
Roper!"

As they rode along past the place, a number of men sprang up and fired a
volley.  Arthur felt a sudden and acute pain in the ribs, and was nearly
knocked from his horse. Recovering himself with a great effort, he fired
twice, and two of the men dropped.  A moment later his horse staggered
and fell.  As it did so he dragged the other pistol out and shot a man
who was rushing at him with a clubbed musket.  He heard Roper’s pistols
go off, but was too much engaged with a fourth man who rushed at him, to
see what was the result.  He had just run his antagonist through, when
Don Silvio leapt upon him.  Arthur parried the thrust aimed at him, and
at once engaged in a furious combat.  Don Silvio leapt round him with
the agility of a cat, springing in and out, and delivering fierce lunges
as he did so.  Otherwise there was silence.  He was vaguely conscious
that Roper was down, but that he had disposed of the last of his
antagonists, and that the issue remained solely between himself and the
count.  He was at a disadvantage with the latter, for while he himself
was armed only with the regulation cutting sword, his antagonist had a
long, straight, duelling rapier.

For a time he contented himself with standing on his guard, but was
several times narrowly touched.  At last, seizing his opportunity, he
struck at his opponent’s rapier with all his force.  The blade shivered
in the count’s hand, but before he could raise his guard again the
latter sprung upon him like a wild cat and grasped him by the throat,
trying to hurl him over the precipice.  Arthur dropped his sword, which
was useless to him now, and, grasping his antagonist’s wrists, tried to
drag them from his throat; but rage had given Don Silvio strength, while
Arthur himself was almost choking under the pressure.  At last, with a
mighty effort he succeeded, and in turn gained a grip on the throat of
his antagonist.  He dragged him to the edge of the precipice, and,
holding one hand on his throat and with the other grasping him by the
middle, raised him from the ground to hurl him over.  Another instant
and Don Silvio’s career would have come to an end, but almost in the act
of throwing Arthur paused.

The sight of the count’s convulsed face and eyes moved him from his
purpose, and he set him down again on the road, releasing him as he did
so.

"Don Silvio," he said sternly, "I had you at my mercy, but thoughts came
into my mind that caused me to change my purpose.  I feel, as I have all
along felt, that I have not been altogether blameless in this matter.
It was natural that you should have been exasperated by the belief that
I had gained the affections of Donna Mercedes, and that you should
thereupon have forced a duel upon me.  I feel that I was wrong in the
way in which I fought you.  I might have contented myself with merely
wounding you, whereas I played with you first and made you the
laughing-stock of the friends you had brought to witness your triumph.
Considering that you are a Spaniard and have your ideas of revenge, I
can pardon the attempt of those two men, whom, I doubt not, you bribed
to stab me.  I do not know what share you had in getting me into prison,
nor do I care to enquire.  I have now again worsted you, and have you at
my mercy; but, looking back, and seeing that I have been myself to some
extent wrong, I give you your life.  Go home, señor, and retrieve the
past.  I believe that you were an honourable gentleman before you were
led astray by your anger at being superseded in the affections of Donna
Mercedes.  That quarrel has been fought out and come to an end.  Go home
and try to forget what has passed.  You will never hear of it from me."

Don Silvio staggered back and stared in bewildered incredulity at
Arthur, who, turning away, at once went to Roper’s side.  The latter was
insensible, evidently from the effects of a tremendous blow from the
butt-end of a musket delivered by a man who lay dead beside him.  Roper
had indeed fired and inflicted a mortal wound upon his adversary, who
was in the act of striking.  The blow had fallen, but it was the last
effort of the striker.  The two had fallen side by side. Arthur went to
his dead horse, pulled out a flask from the wallet, poured some brandy
and water between Roper’s lips and rubbed some on his forehead, and soon
he had the satisfaction of seeing his follower open his eyes.

"It is all right, Roper," he said, "we have thrashed them all.  You have
had a nasty knock on the head.  Fortunately your crown is pretty thick,
and you will be all right again in a few minutes;" then, as he saw that
Roper was rallying, he turned to the count, who was sitting on a fallen
rock with his head in his hands.  Seven dead bodies lay in the road.
The count got up as he approached.

"Englishman," he said in a low voice, "you have indeed proved my
conqueror in every way, in fighting and in generosity.  I can scarcely
even now believe that I am alive, and that you have spared me when I was
wholly at your mercy. I do not deserve life at your hands."

"Say no more about it," Arthur said.  "I injured you first unconsciously
and then consciously; you have tried to strike back hard, and this is
the result.  Let all animosity be at an end between us.  Go back to your
estate, live there quietly for a while, and then let the memory of our
duel and all connected with it pass away--such matters are soon
forgotten--and return to Madrid.  I shall no longer be there.  In a few
months I shall be back in England.  Now," he said in a different tone,
"where are these men’s horses?  They must have ridden here; and as they
have killed my favourite, I must provide myself with another."

"They are all round the next turn," Don Silvio said.  "I can at least
make reparation to you in the matter of the horse, for mine is as good
as yours was.  I will take one of the others, which indeed are all my
own."

"What is to be done with these bodies?"

"There is a man with the horses.  I will get him to throw them over into
the gorge.  It may be months before anyone finds them.  We shall lead
four of the best of the horses back, and the others can be left for the
first comer."

"But the man will be a trouble to you in the future, will he not?"

"No; he is my steward, and devoted to the family.  It was he who
arranged for the services of these men, at a town twelve miles from my
place.  He fetched them over and provided them with horses.  They will
not be missed from their homes, and indeed the town will have some
reason to rejoice over their disappearance."

By this time Roper was sufficiently recovered to be able to stand, but
he was still a good deal dazed and bewildered. Arthur assisted him to
mount, took the saddle and bridle off his own horse, and, carrying them
with him and leading Roper’s horse, he followed the count round the
corner.  Here was a group of nine horses ready saddled, with a tall old
man standing beside them.

"Raphael," the count said, "take the saddle off my horse and put this
gentleman’s on to it.  I have had a heavy lesson, and one that will last
me all my life.  This gentleman, whose life I strove to take, has spared
mine when he had it at his mercy.  I must get you to help me to throw
into the gorge below the seven bodies of the men who went with me.  They
have all been killed.  Put my saddle on to one of theirs. What do you
think we had better do with the others?"

"I would leave them here, señor.  I picked out the worst lot on the
estate.  They are not worth the trouble of taking home; and if I were to
lead three or four horses for the five days it will take us to get
there, it would be remarked upon. People are sure to come along the road
in the course of the day, and you may be certain that the horses will
all be appropriated before night, and that nothing will be said about
them."

"Very well; perhaps that will be the best way."

The count’s horse had by this time been saddled.  Arthur mounted.

"Well, count, I will say good-bye.  Our feud has been a fierce one while
it lasted, but it is well over now, and I think it may have done both of
us good."

"I am sure it will do me good," the count said humbly. "Adieu! may the
good fortune you deserve always attend you!"

Arthur waved his hand, touched his horse with his spur, and went on with
Roper.

"How are you feeling, Roper?"

"I am getting all right, sir, though my head still seems to hum.  I
hardly know how it came about.  I fired right at a man close to me.  He
was in the act of striking at me, and I thought he would have dropped;
but before I had time to throw up my hand or parry in any way, the blow
came down, and I remember nothing else till I found you pouring brandy
down my throat."

"You fired a second too late.  I found the man lying dead beside you,
but I suppose the blow was already falling when you hit him, and it came
down on to your head without any further effort on his part."

"And we killed the whole of them, sir?"

"Yes; I brought down three with my pistols and one with my sword.  You
must have accounted for the other three."

"Yes; I fired four times, sir.  I know I shot the two first men, but
before I could get my pistol fairly out of the other holster the third
man was on me.  I missed him the first time, but hit him with the second
barrel just as he was in the act of striking me down.  He was the only
man, I think, who had a gun, all the others used pistols."

"Now I think of it, Roper, I have a strong suspicion, by the pain I am
feeling, that one or two of my ribs are broken. I felt a very sharp pang
for a moment.  That mail shirt kept the bullets from penetrating, but it
did not keep them from hitting me very hard.  I think I will dismount
now and strip to the waist, and get you--if you feel up to it--to
bandage me tightly.  I know you always carry a couple of bandages in
your valise."

"Oh, I am well enough for that, sir!" Roper said, dismounting. Then,
leaving his horse, he went across to Arthur and assisted him to dismount
and to take off his coat and shirt.

"Here are the two bullets, sir, jammed tightly in the coat of mail; one
is about an inch above the other.  I am afraid two of the ribs are
broken.  I will make a shift to bandage you up as tightly as I can, and
we will stop at the next town, which can only be six or seven miles
away, and get a surgeon to attend to you properly.  We will walk our
horses all the way, it would never do to trot."

When Arthur had dressed again they continued on their journey at a very
quiet pace, and arrived two hours later at a town.  They put up at the
principal inn and sent for a surgeon, who, on examining Arthur, at once
found that the two ribs were broken.

"How long shall I be kept here?"

"It will depend how quickly the bones knit.  I should say that you ought
to stay for at least three weeks; but possibly you may go on before
that, provided you take matters quietly. I shall, of course, bandage you
up so tightly that they cannot shift unless you give yourself a wrench."

Arthur was detained ten days, but at the end of that time he insisted on
proceeding.  He was tightly enveloped in broad bandages, and, as he
said, felt as if he were in a stiff pair of stays.  He promised the
surgeon that he would not let his horse go beyond a walk.  However, they
accomplished the journey to Saragossa at a pretty fair rate, travelling
from eight to nine hours a day, making an average of twenty-five miles.
By the time they got there Arthur no longer felt any acute pain, and was
confident that the bones were healing. However, he resolved to follow
the surgeon’s advice and not attempt to remove the bandages for another
month.

He found Saragossa a scene of great preparations.  Espartero had
determined not to move, as Oraa had done, with an insufficient
siege-train, and during the months of comparative inactivity he had
collected a battering train of forty pieces, of which eight were
24-pounders, twelve 16-pounders, ten mortars, and ten howitzers.  Each
gun was provided with a thousand rounds of ammunition.

Besides the siege-train he had also with him three field batteries armed
with heavy guns.  Transport had been collected with immense difficulty,
for to carry the ammunition alone five hundred carts and two thousand
mules were required, besides the waggons of the commissariat train and
those for regimental transport.  The force that was to accompany these
amounted to twenty thousand men, while some eight thousand others were
posted on the road and as garrisons in various villages.  On the 18th of
May the battering train moved forward, and was followed the next day by
the main body.  The first division advanced to the height of San Marcos,
within sight of Morella.  The main body with the head-quarters and
artillery halted a few miles short of this on the heights above Pobleta.

During the night the weather changed suddenly.  A very heavy snow-storm
set in, and several men and mules were frozen to death.  There was no
change on the next day, but on the 23rd the army again advanced, and
arrived early in the afternoon within range of the fort of San Pedro.
It halted about two thousand yards from the town on its north side. The
fort stood on a commanding height and was surrounded by a deep ditch.
On its south and west sides it was inaccessible; on its north front it
was well covered by a glacis.  Its only exposed face was visible from
another height, called San Marcos, at a distance of a thousand yards on
the same level on the opposite side of the valley.  Owing to the
distance at which San Pedro stood from the city, Cabrera had since the
last siege erected another strong redoubt called La Querola to protect
the communications.  He had made a great mistake, however, in not
erecting another fortification on the heights facing La Querola.  The
two would have protected each other, and their fire crossing the road
between them would have enabled them to hold out, even against the
powerful artillery brought against them, for at least a fortnight.

Cabrera, however, who was no engineer, instead of covering the
approaches with fortifications, had wasted much time in forming
entrenchments in the town which would be of little or no use after an
entry was once made.  He himself was still suffering from the effects of
the wounds Arthur had inflicted upon him, and was unable to undertake
the defence of the place; and when the besieging army drew near he left
the town with some eight thousand men in order to harass communications,
and interfere as far as possible with the progress of the siege.

Espartero found that it was necessary to take La Querola before the city
itself could be attacked, because it commanded the road by which the
siege artillery was brought up.  There was too, in the valley along
which the road ran, an aqueduct which supplied the city with water, and
behind this a large body of troops could form up without being seen from
the city.

It was also desirable that this should be effected because the weakest
part of the wall was between the castle and the gate of San Miguel; and
were a breach effected there, the whole of the interior entrenchments
would be commanded from it.  The army encamped in front and on the
flanks of San Pedro, the stores and heavy guns being placed on the
height of San Marcos.  On the 24th of May the engineers commenced an
approach against the north front of San Pedro, and the artillery on the
opposite height opened fire upon it. The work of the sappers was
arduous; an incessant musketry fire was kept up upon them, and the
ground was so rocky that it was very difficult to obtain shelter.
Finding, therefore, that the approach could not be made in a regular
way, the sappers went forward at a run to within two hundred yards of
the fort, and then covered themselves by hurriedly throwing up a stone
wall.

Behind this they kept up so rapid and heavy a fire that they silenced
that of the defenders, and during the night carried forward the work to
within a hundred yards of the wall, and completed a little battery of
three 16-pounders, which were to fire at the very small part of the work
which was not covered by the glacis.  They opened fire at daybreak, but
did very little damage.  It was otherwise, however, on the eastern side,
where the wall was so effectually pounded by the heavy guns on the
opposite heights that the whole of the parapet on that face was
destroyed, and there was therefore no shelter for the defenders.  Some
of the light troops, seeing this, crept up close to the ditch.  The
defenders, thinking that an assault was intended, rushed to oppose them,
but suffered terribly from the fire from San Marcos.

Again and again they exposed themselves in the most gallant manner, but
the fire from the guns was so excellent that they fell in great numbers.
At eight o’clock the garrison sounded a parley, and the governor offered
to surrender on condition that the survivors should be permitted to
retreat to Morella.  Espartero refused, and as the garrison could not
any longer continue the hopeless defence, the governor surrendered at
discretion.  In the meantime Espartero had moved some light infantry
against La Querola, the newly-raised fort built to keep up the
communications between San Pedro and the city.  The garrison here showed
none of the same spirit that had animated the defenders of San Pedro.
Notwithstanding the assistance rendered by a strong sortie from Morella,
they resisted the attack for only half an hour and then abandoned the
fort, being cut up as they retired by Espartero’s cavalry.

Thus the way was opened for an advance of the besiegers to the
neighbourhood of the city itself, and the whole army moved forward.  A
natural ridge, at a distance of from seven to eight hundred yards from
the city, covered their movements, and here the batteries were at once
commenced.  By the 29th all was ready--thirty-five guns were in
position--and a tremendous fire was opened against the town.  The
mortars did not effect the expected damage, for the town was almost
entirely composed of stone, and but few houses were set on fire. The
destruction wrought by the other guns was, however, very great: the wall
between the castle and the gate of San Miguel crumbled rapidly, while
the fire from the castle was almost wholly silenced, and a very
destructive explosion took place in one of the principal magazines.  The
northern defences of the castle were almost destroyed, and communication
could no longer be held by daylight between it and the town.

At half-past two in the afternoon an officer let himself down by a rope
from the western wall and informed Espartero that a meeting of the
principal officers of the town had been held, and that it had been
determined that the troops in the city should that night endeavour to
escape through the besieging army and join Cabrera, who was with the
field force and very ill.  The garrison of the castle was to remain and
cover the escape of their comrades.  Espartero at once took precautions
to frustrate the attempt to escape.  Directing an incessant fire to be
kept up by all the guns, he despatched officers to the different
divisions to order that the investment, which had not hitherto been
complete, should at once be carefully closed, and that at nightfall the
troops should draw nearer to the town and occupy in force all the roads,
particularly that towards the gate of the Puerta del Estudio, which
alone had not been blocked before the siege began.  As, however, he was
by no means certain that the information brought by the deserter was
true, he directed the erection of two new batteries at the north-west
angle of the wall, while another battery was erected at the south-west
side of the city, a couple of field-batteries being also sent round
there.

At ten o’clock in the evening fire was opened all round Morella.  This
seemed to show that the information that had been received was correct,
and that this outburst of firing was intended to show that the garrison
was vigilant and active. At dawn the troops, ignorant that their scheme
had been betrayed, marched down, headed by the governor.  To their
surprise they were encountered by an overwhelming force, and in the
hasty struggle that ensued three hundred and fifty of the Carlists were
made prisoners.  The rest of the column endeavoured to regain the town,
but a shell fell on the drawbridge and destroyed it.  A terrible scene
now ensued.  A great many of the wives and children of the troops had
marched out with them, believing that the road was perfectly clear.
These were pressed back by the retreating troops.  Numbers of men,
women, and children were forced into the moat, which soon became filled
with a mass of struggling, suffocating people.

To add to the horror of the scene, those of the garrison who still
remained within the walls, hearing the shouts of the Christinos--"Viva
la Reyna!"--fired miscellaneously, in a panic, upon friends and foes.
At six o’clock in the morning the officer second in command, and now
acting as governor, sent out to offer to capitulate on the condition
that the garrison should be allowed to withdraw to a foreign country.
This was peremptorily refused by Espartero, and at eight o’clock the
place surrendered unconditionally.  The remainder of the garrison
marched out and piled arms under the castle, their number exceeding
three thousand.  In both the city and the castle the magazines were
found stored with provisions sufficient to enable them to hold out for
several months.  The defence was, on the whole, quite unworthy of the
traditions of the Carlists--in fact the little garrison of San Pedro
alone behaved well.

There could be no doubt that the defenders had been cowed by the
overwhelming powers of the siege artillery.  They had relied upon being
able to repulse any assault that might be made, but were utterly
unprepared for a bombardment such as they had to endure.  There was no
precedent for the collection of so great a force of artillery.  At the
unsuccessful siege by Oraa only some eight to ten small pieces had been
used; these had been badly placed and badly handled, and time had not
even been allowed for them to complete the breaches. When, therefore,
the walls were swept by the fire of fifty or sixty guns, and the
garrison saw their defences in one day crumble before them, they thought
only of escape.  The lamentable part of the affair was the fearful
destruction of life outside the gate.

This was a worthy conclusion of a struggle that had been conducted on
both sides with an amount of ferocity, brutality, and bloodshed
altogether without precedent in modern warfare; indeed, to find a
parallel it is necessary to go back to the wholesale slaughter committed
by Alva in the Low Countries.

The English officers, after order was restored, called upon Espartero to
congratulate him on his complete success, and two or three of them took
leave of him at once, as it was certain that although some guerrilla
skirmishing might still go on, the war was practically at an end.  They
then rode back to the hut which had formed their head-quarters during
the siege.

The general expression was that of joy that their arduous and thankless
work was at an end.  They had been, in some cases, for years travelling
almost constantly with flying columns, which moved aimlessly through the
country, or remained for months together inactive without making an
effort to get in touch with the enemy.  It was not their business to
give advice unless it was asked for: their mission was to endeavour to
humanize the war.  And although at times one or another of the
commanders would act with some little humanity, these were quite
exceptional cases, and as a rule little quarter was given on either
side, both insisting that these atrocities were but reprisals for acts
of the other party.

In vain had the British commissioners urged, in the name not only of
humanity but of good policy, that the customs of war should be followed,
and that their antagonists should not be excited to madness by the
wanton destruction of life, the wholesale devastation of the country,
and the razing to the ground of villages and homesteads.  Both parties
admitted the justice of their reasons, both bewailed the necessity for
such actions, but both continued to commit them to the end of the war.
There was, then, a feeling of deep satisfaction among the three or four
British officers, at the capture of Morella and its garrison.  As long
as that city remained in the hands of the Carlists, it was a rallying
centre for them--a reminder of the signal defeat of the army that had
besieged it.  Now it had fallen after a resistance that could not but be
considered as feeble.  The Carlists had, it is true, other strongholds
in different parts of the country, but these were comparatively
insignificant, and would doubtless open their gates as soon as
detachments of Espartero’s army appeared before them.

Indeed, the weakness of the defence of Morella showed that the spirit of
the Carlists was already broken.  Had Cabrera remained among them to
cheer and encourage them, the defence would have been much more
desperate, though it could not have been very much more prolonged, for
another day or two would have seen the defences so destroyed that the
place would have been untenable; but the fact that Cabrera was away
wounded and sick took all the spirit out of the defence.  The first
offer of the governor to surrender if the garrison were allowed to march
out and cross a foreign frontier, was no doubt the result of an order
that Cabrera had given him before he left, when he found that he was no
longer able to defend the place, and probably foreshadowed the plan that
Cabrera himself thought it likely he would be compelled to adopt.

Espartero’s triumph had been complete.  He had, indeed, proved the
saviour of Spain.  When he began--one among half a dozen generals--he
found jealousy and jobbery everywhere rampant.  Most of the generals
thought only of avoiding defeat, and not of gaining victory.  So long as
the Carlists left them alone they were well content to allow them to
march almost at will through the country.  The army, which was
ill-clothed and ill-fed, was wholly deficient in artillery, and had but
a very small body of cavalry.  Worst of all, the government was rotten
to the core.  Corruption prevailed in every office, and positions were
only secured through favouritism, merit counting not at all.  Little by
little Espartero changed all this.  His honesty, his talent, and dogged
perseverance triumphed over his adversaries.  The people at large came
to regard him as their one hope, and answered his appeal to them by
overthrowing the government that had thwarted him, and making him
towards the end of the war practically Dictator of Spain.

He had all along distinguished himself by the courtesy with which he had
treated the British commissioners.  He had relied a great deal upon the
advice of Colonel Wylde, who was senior of that body, and had himself
set, as a rule, an example of clemency to the captives except when he
was driven by the massacre of prisoners taken by the Carlists to carry
out striking reprisals.  Many of the other generals, on the other hand,
kept the commissioners at arm’s-length, and would not only give them no
information themselves, but ordered their officers not to do so.  It is
not difficult to understand the feeling that actuated them.  These
officers were unwelcome at their head-quarters not because they were
there to plead the cause of humanity, but because they furnished the
British government with accurate reports of the movements and conduct of
the army, and thus exposed the falsity of their own bombastic reports of
their doings.

"For my part, I am heartily glad it is over," Arthur said. "I certainly
do not mean to remain to witness the expulsion of Cabrera and the
stamping out of the last embers of disaffection.  I have had six years
of it, and I intend to send in my resignation as soon as I arrive at
Madrid.  When I came out it was with the intention of serving merely for
the term of my enlistment, a couple of years; then I had the good
fortune to be transferred to the army when the Legion was broken up,
though I still thought that it was but for another year or so.  However,
I have no reason to regret that I have seen it through.  I have been
fortunate in all respects--very fortunate in serving under so kind and
good a chief as Colonel Wylde."

"What are you thinking of doing if you leave the army?"

"I have a small estate waiting for me at home, which has been little by
little piling up capital for me during my absence.  I shall be a good
deal more fit to take charge of it now, and to settle down, than I
should have been if I had never come out here."

"It seems a pity, too," Colonel Lacy said.  "You have done very good
service, and Colonel Wylde has always reported well of you.  You have
been a captain now for four years, and you will be sure to get your
majority as a reward for your work here."

"Yes, sir; if I had entered the army for the purpose of staying in it, I
should have every reason for congratulating myself on my good fortune;
but as I did not, I should not value the majority, for which indeed I
feel myself much too young. Besides, I should be altogether unfit for
it.  I learned the work of a subaltern for a year in a hard, rough
school, where there was no occasion to know more than the simplest
movements.  For the past four years I have not commanded a corporal’s
guard, and I could no more drill a battalion of British troops on a
parade-ground than fly, so I have quite made up my mind to leave, and
have indeed only held on for the past two years in the belief that the
war would speedily come to an end."

"Well, Hallett, of course you know your own business best; and I am
quite sure that if I had a nice little estate waiting for me in England,
I should take the same course as you are going to do."

                             *CHAPTER XXI*

                                 *HOME*

The next day Arthur mounted, and, after saying good-bye to his friends,
started for Madrid.  He was still wearing his bandages, but as a measure
of precaution rather than as a necessity, for the bones had knit well,
and Espartero’s surgeon had told him that he could safely give them up.
Arthur, however, said that he was accustomed to them now, and as they
were no great inconvenience it would be folly to run the smallest risk,
and he would therefore keep them on for another month.  Roper was in
high glee at the thought that he was going to return home.

"When we get to Madrid," Arthur said, "we will both lay aside our
uniforms, and you will cease to be my servant. We can return to the
position we formerly occupied towards each other, that of good friends,
though of course much closer ones than of old.  We have gone through
many dangers together, and it will only be a matter of regret to me that
you should have been in the position of my servant."

"I won’t give it up when we get to Madrid, sir.  At any rate I shall
remain your servant till we embark on board ship for England, after
which you will have no more occasion for me, and I shall be proud to
become your humble friend. I suppose, sir," he said with a quiet smile,
"you are not thinking of going back to England alone?"

"Not if I can help it," Arthur answered.  "Of course nothing is settled,
but I don’t fancy that I shall have to go back alone.  If I do I shall
return shortly, but I hope to manage everything satisfactorily before I
leave."

Arthur had heard regularly every six months from his uncle, who had of
late said he hoped he would soon leave the army and return home, and in
his last letter, written after he had come of age, had said: "I may now
tell you, my dear Arthur, that the will of your father contains a secret
clause giving me the power, if I considered you fit to undertake the
responsibility, of handing your estates over to you when you came of
age.  I must say that it seems to me you are quite fit to assume that
responsibility.  Your letters do not tell me a very great deal about
yourself, but it is clear that, as in these five years you have won your
way from being a private to holding a commission as a captain, you ought
certainly to possess a sufficient amount of steadiness and knowledge of
the world to fit you for the not very onerous duties of a country
squire.  You do not toll us very much about yourself, and we all
consider your letters in that respect very unsatisfactory; but it is
evident that you have seen a great deal of service, and must have cured
yourself of that tendency to wildness that caused us such trouble before
you left.  In fact we all feel proud of you, holding, as you do, the
appointment as one of the British assistant commissioners.

"I own that it has been a surprise to me, but my wife declares that she
was always sure you would do well, and I need hardly say that the girls
are very fond of parading their cousin, a captain in the army and royal
commissioner in Spain, among their acquaintances.  Of course I do not
urge you to return--that is a question entirely for you to decide; but I
say that, in virtue of the power given to me by your father, I shall
have no hesitation in placing you, on your return, in possession of your
father’s estates and the accumulation of rents during your minority."

Communication was slow, and this letter had only been received by Arthur
a few days before his seizure by the monks.  It had been a great
satisfaction to him, as he would now be able to maintain Mercedes in a
position not altogether inferior to that to which she had been
accustomed.  He had, however, not spoken on the subject even to Leon,
preferring to continue to stand on the same basis as before.  He
travelled by easy stages to Madrid, and was most warmly greeted on his
return there by Leon and the girls.

"Rather a curious thing has happened since you have been away," Leon
said, when they were chatting together on the first evening after his
return.  "I have received a letter from Don Silvio.  I don’t understand
it, but it is, as far as it goes, very satisfactory; still, I cannot
quite make it out.  He writes to say that he regrets very deeply his
conduct towards us and you, and implores our pardon.  He says that
henceforth we need fear no annoyance whatever from him, and that he can
only hope that some day he may resume his former position as a friend of
our family.  He says that of course we shall have heard from you the
reasons that have brought about this entire change in his sentiments,
and that we can easily understand that after your treatment of him he is
an entirely changed man.  I received this letter a fortnight ago.  I
really did not know how to answer it, so have waited to get some
explanation from you as to the circumstances that have brought about
this change in his sentiments, in which I own I have no belief whatever.
Indeed I consider that the letter was only written to put us off our
guard.  Certainly in the letters you have written since you left there
has been nothing that would explain the matter, except indeed that you
said you had had a trifling affair with some brigands and had got the
better of them, though at the cost of a slight wound.  Had this anything
to do with it?"

"It had, Leon.  It was not worth writing about, although the affair was
a somewhat sharp one, and I had not intended to say anything about it;
but as it has apparently brought about a very satisfactory state of
things, I suppose I had better tell it."

He then related how Roper had, as he thought, recognized Don Silvio; how
they had discovered that they were really watched; the precautions they
had taken against attack; and gave an account of the fight, telling how
the seven men who had attacked them had been killed in the encounter.
"Don Silvio fought hard," he said carelessly, "but I had him at my
mercy.  Reflecting, however, that I had injured him by winning the
affections of Mercedes, and that I had certainly behaved wrongly in
fooling with him in that duel, I let him go."

"You let him go!" Leon said in astonishment.  "Do you mean to say that
when you had him at your mercy you actually let him go?"

"That is what it came to, I suppose," Arthur admitted. "I had him by the
throat at the edge of the precipice, then it occurred to me that the man
had good grounds for complaint against me.  But for me he might have
married Mercedes, and as, over and above this, I had made him the
laughing-stock of Madrid, it was natural that he should have endeavoured
to get rid of me.  I therefore concluded that I ought not to take his
life; so I released him and explained this to him, and we parted, I
think, very good friends."

Leon gazed at him in astonishment.  "By San Paolo, Arthur, but you are
an extraordinary man!  The idea of sparing that fellow when you had him
at your mercy!  You astound me."

"It was good of you, Arthur, wonderfully good!" Mercedes exclaimed, "but
just the thing that you would do.  I am proud of you!  Of course I have
always been proud of you, but more now than ever.  And do you think he
is sincere in this letter he wrote to Leon?"

"I do think so.  From the way in which he spoke to me I believe that he
was thoroughly sincere, and that he felt that he had been in the wrong,
and that the feud between us was now at an end.  I think, Leon, you can
now answer his letter, saying that you have seen me and heard my
explanation, and that you are heartily glad that the feud is over, and
are ready again to receive him as a friend."

"As to that I should be only too glad," Leon said.  "Until this thing
happened I always esteemed him, as you may suppose by my consenting to
give Mercedes to him.  He has not injured me, and if you have brought
yourself to forgive his attempts upon your life it is little enough for
me to shake hands with him again.  I will write and tell him so
to-morrow morning, and express my willingness that bygones shall be
bygones, and that our friendship can be again renewed.  And now to
return to a still more interesting subject.  What are your plans?"

"As I have already told you, I shall to-morrow send in my resignation.
The next step must necessarily depend upon you a great deal.  It seems
to me that it would be exceedingly difficult for Mercedes and myself to
be married here.  The ceremony could be performed at the British
Embassy, but for my part I would much rather that it took place in
England; and I should think, Leon, that that would also be most pleasant
for you all.  Our marriage here would undoubtedly cause a considerable
amount of feeling.  You would be blamed very strongly for giving your
sister to a foreigner and a heretic, and things might be made very
unpleasant for you and the girls.  My own idea is, that the best thing
possible would be for us all to travel quietly down to Cadiz, and thence
take ship to England.  There we could be married comfortably. While
preparing for that, I could see that my place was made ready to receive
us; then I hope you would stay with us for some time before returning
home.  In that way you would avoid all trouble here, for whereas a
wedding in the face of the public of Madrid would cause no end of
scandal, a quiet marriage in England would scarcely be noticed."

Leon was silent for a minute, and then said: "I think a good deal is to
be said in favour of your plan.  There can be no doubt that the marriage
would create much less comment and talk than if it were to take place
here.  Secondly, I should like to see the new home in which Mercedes is
to be established--not to say that I should certainly like to see
something more of England; but I don’t know about the girls."

"Oh, Leon!" both exclaimed, "you would never leave us behind!  Why, of
course we should want just as much as you do to be at Mercedes’ wedding.
You never can really think of leaving us here.  What reason could there
be why we shouldn’t go with you?"

"Well, you see, in the first place you don’t speak English."

"Nor do you, Leon, at least not well."

"Well, you know that in point of fact I do speak it pretty fairly.
However, it’s too important a matter to be settled offhand, girls.
Suppose, for example, that one of you took it into your head to marry an
English gentleman?"

"Well, Leon," Inez said mischievously, "as it appears to us that you are
likely before long to enter the married state yourself, I should have
thought that you would be very glad to get us off your hands, even to
Englishmen.  I am sure if all Englishmen were like Arthur I should have
no objection at all.  I have always been lamenting that I did not go
with you, instead of Mercedes, to our country place, and then perhaps I
might have had the chance that Mercedes has had."

They all laughed.

"Well, really, I will think it over, Inez.  It might be managed, and the
three months’ trip would do us all good after the stormy time we have
been having here."

"I am sure it would," Arthur said; "so I think, girls, we can consider
that settled."

"Well, of course we could not think of going for a month yet," Mercedes
said.  "You must remember that we shall all have preparations to make."

"But you can get things made in England," Arthur urged.

"No, sir," Mercedes said.  "We are not going away without a sufficient
supply of clothes.  At any rate, we shall want travelling suits, and a
lot of other things, though I admit that I should prefer getting some of
my dresses in England.  I don’t want to have everyone staring at me,
when I go about, as a foreigner."

"Well, of course you must have time, Mercedes, and I don’t think a month
is very unreasonable; besides, all sorts of papers will have to be got
ready and drawn up."

"Certainly," Leon said.  "As Mercedes’ guardian and the head of the
family, it is my duty to see that everything is done regularly.  As far
as you are concerned, Arthur, I should be quite content to have no
settlements of any kind; but it would be unseemly for a daughter of our
house to marry in the haphazard way of a small farmer’s daughter."

"I agree with you thoroughly, Leon, but I think it would be better for
you to have the settlements drawn up in England.  You may calculate that
it will be a month after my return before things will be ready, which
will give plenty of time for you to have the deeds drawn up there.  You
see, the laws of your country are not the same as ours."

"I should say they had better be drawn up in both countries," Leon said.
"Mercedes’ income is a charge upon a Spanish estate, and the people
acting as her trustees here would be bound by Spanish law only.  I think
that when these troubles are all over, and land rises in value again, it
would be best that the estates should be sold.  Mercedes could then
invest her money in England.  The other girls’ shares would be held in
trust for them till they marry."

"That would certainly be a very good plan, Leon.  You will understand,
of course, that I wish Mercedes’ fortune to be entirely under her own
control."

Arthur spent a very pleasant month in Madrid.  He was, at the regent’s
request, very frequently at the palace, and when he informed her that
Mercedes was going to England to be married to him, she presented her
with a splendid suite of diamonds.

"You see, Captain Hallett," she said, "you would not let me do for you a
quarter of what I wished to do; but at least you cannot interfere
between me and Donna Mercedes de Balen.  I wish greatly that you had
permanently settled here.  I would have made you a Grand Duke of Spain,
and there would be pleasure in knowing that my daughter would have one
absolutely disinterested and faithful friend. My own health is not good.
I have had a terribly anxious time for the past eight years.  I have
been surrounded by men whom I despise.  I have seen how few of them care
for the cause to which they profess to be devoted, and think only of
themselves and their own interests.  Fortunately, should anything happen
to me, I shall leave her in Espartero’s hands with a certain knowledge
that he will protect and guard her during her minority."

"I trust sincerely, madam, that there will be no occasion for him to
assume such a charge; but I thoroughly agree with you that should he
have to do so, he will perform it well and honourably."

Before leaving, Leon and the girls made no formal farewell visits to
their friends.  They knew that if their intentions were announced there
would be a storm of opposition, and that all their friends and the
members of the families with which they were connected would move heaven
and earth to try and dissuade them.  Mercedes’ engagement had never been
formally announced, and although her attachment for Arthur might be
suspected by the intimates of the family, nothing could be said until
their betrothal was made public.

At last the preparations were all complete, and the deeds drawn up and
signed.  Leon had made the usual stipulation that while any boys born of
the marriage should be brought up in their father’s religion, the girls
should be brought up in that of their mother.

They journeyed by easy stages--the men on horseback, the girls in the
family coach--down to Cadiz, whore berths had already been secured on
board a ship sailing for England.  The voyage was a slow but fair one.
After the first day or two none of the party suffered from sea-sickness.
Roper had refused to allow a passage to be taken for him aft with the
others.

"It is kind of you to wish it, sir, but I should not be comfortable.  If
you were travelling alone it would be different, but the count and his
sisters have only been accustomed to look upon me as your servant.  They
are always very kind and friendly to me.  They know that we have gone
through a very great deal together, but I think they would feel--and I
am sure I should be--very uncomfortable if I were to sit at table with
them on terms of equality."

"Well, it must be as you wish, Roper, but I am quite sure they do not
feel it so.  They know that I regard you, and always have done so, as a
friend; that we have gone through many adventures together, besides the
one in which you aided me to save Mercedes from Cabrera.  However, it
shall be as you like."

The girls and Leon, after the first two days, thoroughly enjoyed the
voyage, which was a novelty to them.  On arriving in London the count
took private rooms at an hotel, and for two or three days Arthur went
about with them, enjoying the sights as much as they did, as he had
never before been to London.  Then he travelled down to Liverpool by the
North-Western Railway--then only recently opened.

He had written briefly to his uncle on his arrival, mentioning the day
on which he should come down.  When he reached Liverpool, therefore, he
drove from the station to his house.

Although he had written home regularly once every three or four months,
he had simply mentioned the positions he held and the scenes he had
witnessed, and had said but very little as to his private adventures.

When he drove up to the door his uncle and aunt both came out to meet
him.  They paused in astonishment.  "Is it possible that you are
Arthur?" Mr. Hallett asked.

"Not only possible, but a fact, uncle."

"Well, we are delighted to see you home again, my boy; but we certainly
did not expect to see a giant."

"Nor do you, uncle, I am only six feet one, not at all an out-of-the-way
height."

"Well, I must kiss you, my dear," his aunt said; "but I almost feel as
if I were taking a liberty."

"Nonsense, aunt!  I don’t think I have changed much since I went away;
but of course in six years I have grown a bit bigger.  And how are you,
girls?  How are you both?"

They went into the house.

"Well, Arthur," his uncle said, looking at him closely, "it may have
been only six years since you left us, but by your appearance I should
have thought that it was ten."

"I suppose I do look older than I am, uncle.  Everyone takes me for
three or four years older, but I can tell you it has been a most
fortunate thing for me.  I should never have been made a captain if they
had had an idea that I was only eighteen years old."

"Well, Arthur, I suppose you have quite given up your tendency to get
into scrapes," his aunt said.

"I don’t think I have, aunt," Arthur laughed.  "I have been in a good
many of what you might call scrapes since I went away, but, as you see,
I have come all right through them. The only casualty that I have had
is, that I got a couple of ribs broken in a fight with some brigands
three months ago. And now I am going to astonish you.  I am going to get
married."

There was a general exclamation of astonishment.  "You are not serious,
Arthur?"

"Never was more serious in my life."

"And is it to a Spanish lady?"

"Yes, uncle.  She is the sister of a count who is a great friend of
mine, and I am sure you will say, when you see her, that she is a most
charming young lady.  She is a year younger than I am, and is reasonably
endowed with the world’s goods."

His aunt was the first to rally from her astonishment.  "It sounds very
nice, Arthur," she said, "and I have no doubt that we shall congratulate
you very much when we get to know her; but of course it has come as a
little shock to us."

"I expected it would, aunt.  I know that English people are prejudiced
against foreigners.  Of course, I have been living in Spain for six
years, and have got over any ideas of that sort."

"But is she a Catholic, Arthur?" his aunt asked in rather an awed tone.

"All Spanish ladies are Catholics, aunt; but as this particular one is
by no means a bigoted one, we are not likely to quarrel over it.  She
already speaks English well, and I can assure you that you will find her
charming."

"And you say she has a fortune?"

"Yes, she has about twenty-five thousand pounds in her own right."

"Well, that is comfortable; anyhow, you will not do badly in the money
way.  Your own estate was worth about one thousand pounds a year, but as
it has been accumulating since you were ten years old, and as I have
always invested the rents carefully, it will bring you in about as much
more."

"That is not bad at all, uncle; and I may add that I have twenty
thousand pounds of my own lying to my order at the Bank of Liverpool."

"Twenty thousand, Arthur!  Why, how in the world did you get that?"

"I did a little service to the queen.  It really was not worth troubling
about, but she and the government between them insisted on making me a
present of that sum.  I may mention also that I am a member of the first
class of the Order of San Fernando and a Knight of Isabella the
Catholic. Now, girls, I should like to see you curtsy to me.  So you
see, uncle, that my running away and joining the British Legion has not
turned out so badly."

"No, indeed, Arthur.  Of course, you will tell us all about it
presently; as yet we can only wonder.  I suppose you intend to go back
to Spain shortly to fetch your wife home?"

"No, I have no idea of returning to Spain for an indefinite time.  Donna
Mercedes de Balen--that is her full name, uncle--accompanied me home to
England under the protection of her brother, the Count Leon de Balen,
whose name I have more than once mentioned in my letters, and with them
came their two sisters, Donna Inez and Donna Dolores, two very charming
young ladies.  They will return home with their brother in three or four
months’ time.  After our marriage takes place they will travel about
England."

"You certainly seem to have the whole thing arranged, Arthur, and it
appears to me that you are as headstrong as you were when a boy."

"I don’t think so, uncle.  I have been doing a man’s work for six years,
and, though I say it myself, have done it fairly well.  Now I have
finished wandering, and am going to settle down for good."

They talked until a very late hour in the evening.  Arthur refused to
satisfy their curiosity as to the service he had rendered to the queen,
and said nothing about his private adventures.  He told them principally
about his work in the Legion, and afterwards as an assistant
commissioner.

"Now, what is your first business going to be, Arthur?" his uncle asked
when they met the next morning.

"The very first thing is to go over to my place.  I have no doubt you
have had it kept in good order; but it is certain that great changes
will be needed before I bring Mercedes home there.  I should wish you
and aunt and the girls to go over there with me, and give me the benefit
of your opinions as to the alterations to be made.  It will save time if
we drive first to some of the best builders and upholsterers in town,
and get them to send out men an hour and a half or so after we start, to
meet us there.  I think," he said, turning to his aunt, "that the
wedding will take place in London, and hope that you will all come up
and be present."

"You quite take my breath away, Arthur, with your impetuosity."

"Well, aunt, when a thing has to be done, it seems to me that the sooner
it is done the better.  When it is over we shall go away for a fortnight
or so, and when we come home the count and his sisters will meet us.
The idea is, that they shall spend about three weeks with us, and that
we shall then travel with them for a month."

"Well, James," Mrs. Hallett said, "it seems to me that the programme is
a very good one.  The girls have never been up to London, and I have not
been up there since we were married.  It is nothing of a journey now
that the railway is open.  I am sure you want a holiday too; you have
not had one for years.  Arthur will no doubt get nice lodgings for us,
and I am sure we shall enjoy the trip immensely. When is the marriage to
come off, Arthur?"

"I should say in about a week or ten days; there is no conceivable
reason why we should wait any longer."

"In that case it is only three weeks till your home-coming. You don’t
suppose that the alterations you propose to make could be carried out in
that time?"

"A lot can be done with money, uncle, and I don’t care what I spend.  At
any rate, a portion of the house large enough to hold our party can be
in good order by that time, and the rest must be finished while we are
away."

"I don’t know how I can give up my work," Mr. Hallett began; but Arthur
broke in:

"My dear uncle, you need not say that.  Your head clerk can surely
manage the business for ten days.  If he cannot, I should advise you to
sack him and get another.  Now, if you will give me the address of the
builder and upholsterer, I will drive round and see them, and arrange
for them to send men, and will bring the carriage to the door in an
hour’s time."

"Well, I cannot go to-day anyhow, Arthur."

"Well, I am sorry for that, uncle, because I should have liked your
opinion.  However, in the matter of furnishing and so on, I know that I
can rely upon aunt."

"But I cannot understand," Mr. Hallett said, "why you didn’t get married
out there."

"My dear uncle, if you lived in Spain you would very soon find out the
amount of pressure that is used to prevent a young lady of noble family
from marrying a Protestant and a stranger.  It is simply enormous; and
therefore we agreed that it would be infinitely better for us to come
over to England. When a thing is once done, it is useless to say
anything against it.  The priests may tear their hair over what they
will consider an act of backsliding on the part of Mercedes, but she
won’t hear anything of it."

On reaching his house Arthur found that, although it was in a fair state
of repair, a great deal must be done to meet his requirements.  It was a
good country house, but not a large one, and he decided that the
dining-room must be enlarged, the drawing-room doubled in size, a
boudoir built adjoining it, and several new bedrooms added.  It was
clearly impossible to do all this in three weeks, and it was decided
that the dining-room should be left for the present as it stood, and the
builder promised to put so many hands to work that the drawing-room and
boudoir, and rooms over them, should be finished in time.  The stables
were altogether condemned and would have to be rebuilt, and orders were
given to have the gardens put in perfect order and planted with flowers
before Arthur returned with his wife.

"It is a large order," the builder said, "but as you say that I can put
on any number of men, I think I can guarantee to get it finished."

The order for the upholsterer was very large, as the whole house was to
be refurnished, and there was much consultation between Mrs. Hallett and
the girls as to the patterns, etc. However, they returned in the evening
very well satisfied with the work they had done, and next morning Arthur
went to town again.

He found that a special licence could be obtained at once, and therefore
wrote to his uncle and aunt to come up on the following day by an
afternoon train.  He met them at the station and drove with them to
lodgings he had taken for them in Clarges Street.

"These must be rather expensive rooms," Mr. Hallett said gravely.

"My dear uncle, that makes no difference to you; I am going to pay the
piper.  While you are here, you will be my guests.  I am very flush of
money, for I have in my bank six hundred pounds of the money you sent
me, for twenty pounds a year in addition to my pay quite sufficed for my
wants."

Arthur had secured a room for himself in the same house, and next
morning after breakfast took his friends to visit Leon and his sisters.
They were mutually pleased with each other, and the girls pronounced
Mercedes to be charming, and the other girls almost as nice, though they
were unable to get on so well with them, as Arthur had to act as
interpreter.  After talking for an hour the ladies decided to go
shopping together, while Leon, Arthur, and his uncle strolled through
the town.

"Well, have you done your shopping to your satisfaction, aunt?" Arthur
said when they met again.

"Yes, we have bought loads of things.  I am quite frightened to think
what your uncle will say when he gets the bill."

"He won’t get the bill at all," Arthur said quietly.  "You are my
guests, and I am going to stand paymaster."

"Oh, but that is impossible, Arthur!  We have bought almost everything
new.  I have reckoned it roughly up, and it will come to over a hundred
and twenty pounds."

"If it would come to two hundred and forty it would be all the better,"
Arthur said.  "You don’t understand, aunt. This allowance money is
burning in my pocket.  I have had no means of spending it till now, and
I am going to indulge myself.  Please say no more about it, but just
hand me the bills and I will see them paid.  Now, you will really hurt
me if you say any more."

Leon and his party came round to dinner, which Arthur had ordered to be
sent in from a restaurant in Bond Street.

"How did you and Arthur get to know each other, Mercedes?" one of the
girls asked.

"Well, we only knew each other from his knowing our brother, up to the
time when he saved my life."

"Saved your life!  He never told us anything about that."

"That is just like him!" Mercedes said impetuously.  "It is too bad of
him, everyone ought to know it;" and she gave them a vivid account of
the manner in which he had rescued her.  "After that," she said, "what
could I do but marry him? I was engaged to someone else.  I did not love
him, you know; but it was a proper sort of engagement.  The count was a
man of good family and a friend of my brother’s.  He had asked Leon’s
consent, and Leon had given it, so there was nothing for me to say.  But
after Arthur had saved my life, of course it was different altogether,
and I broke off the engagement.  It was more than a year after that
before I became engaged to Arthur.  He declares that he never suspected
I cared for him, though really I am afraid I showed it very much.  Then
Arthur had to fight a duel with the count and wounded him, and the count
made two attempts on his life, and then you know the Church interfered
and shut Arthur up in a dungeon, and he dug his way out in a wonderful
way.  Have you not heard all this before?"

"No, he never said a word about it in his letters," Mrs. Hallett said.

"Mercedes, you are chattering too much," Arthur said. "You thought a
great deal about these things, but there was nothing worth telling."

"I am the best judge of that, sir," Mercedes said, tossing her head.
"You go on talking to Leon and my sisters."

"And haven’t you heard, Mrs. Hallett," she said, "of the wonderful way
in which he rescued the Regent of Spain and the little Queen when they
were carried off?"

"Not a word, dear."

"Well, then, I shall scold him very much," Mercedes said. "When he has
done so many splendid things, why should he not speak of them?"

"I think he might have told us, my dear," Mrs. Hallett said gently, "but
I suppose he thought it would look like bragging, and there is nothing
Englishmen hate more than that.  Men who do great things are the very
last to speak of them."

"Ah well, I will tell you some day all about them!" Mercedes said, "and
then you will not be surprised that I say he is one of the most
wonderful men in the world, and why I, and Leon and my sisters, love him
so."

The two girls looked at Arthur with wondering eyes.  He had always been
rather a hero with them in his young days, and they could quite imagine
that he would be a brave soldier, but they had never dreamt of his
performing such deeds as these.

At the wedding, Roper, who had at once on his arrival gone down to see
his family, and who had now come up for the purpose, acted as Arthur’s
best man.  He had vainly endeavoured to excuse himself.  Arthur insisted
that, having for six years been his best friend, he should certainly
occupy that place on this important occasion.

In spite of the effort of the builders the house was not ready for
habitation at the time fixed on, and it was two months before the whole
party returned together from their tour.  Roper was by this time
installed on a farm on the estate.  When Leon returned to Spain he left
Inez with her sister, and six months later she married a neighbour of
Arthur’s, to the great satisfaction of Mercedes; and neither of them has
once regretted that she has exchanged the troubles and struggles of her
native land for the peace and quiet of England.  As to Arthur, he has
always said that the day he enlisted in the British Legion was the most
fortunate one in his life.

                                THE END.

           *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

                   *HISTORICAL TALES BY G. A. HENTY*

THE CAT OF BUBASTES: A Story of Ancient Egypt.
FOR THE TEMPLE: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem.
THE DRAGON AND THE RAVEN: or, The Days of King Alfred.
A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS: The Siege of Rhodes.
THE LION OF ST. MARK: A Story of Venice in the 14th Century.
A MARCH ON LONDON: A Story of Wat Tyler.
AT AGINCOURT: A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris.
ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars.
BY ENGLAND’S AID: or, The Freeing of the Netherlands.
THE LION OF THE NORTH: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus.
WHEN LONDON BURNED: A Story of the Great Fire.
A JACOBITE EXILE: In the Service of Charles XII.
BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden.
AT THE POINT OP THE BAYONET: A Tale of the Mahratta War.
WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT: The Seven Years’ War.
TRUE TO THE OLD FLAG: The American War of Independence.
IN THE REIGN OF TERROR: The French Revolution.
A ROVING COMMISSION: A Story of the Hayti Insurrection.
AT ABOUKIR AND ACRE: Napoleon’s Invasion of Egypt.
UNDER WELLINGTON’S COMMAND: The Peninsular War.
THROUGH THE FRAY: A Story of the Luddite Riots.
ONE OF THE 28TH: A Story of Waterloo.
ON THE IRRAWADDY: A Story of the First Burmese War.
MAORI AND SETTLER: A Story of the New Zealand War.
BY SHEER PLUCK: A Tale of the Ashanti War.
OUT WITH GARIBALDI: A Story of the Liberation of Italy.
THE DASH FOR KHARTOUM: A Tale of the Nile Expedition.
WITH ROBERTS TO PRETORIA: A Tale of the South African War.

          LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.